The Arc of the Death Wish

HERE IS A PIECE of gratuitous advice: you should not wish someone a long life on a birthday. Instead, you should wish the person a healthy, contented life. A long life can often be a curse. Take it from me. I am past 88 and will be 89 before this year is over. I am stiff in all the wrong places. I can’t remember when I was last stiff in the right place.

It has been weeks since I had a full night of undisturbed sleep. My body aches, I walk with difficulty. If I fall, I cannot get up on my own. I know a person living alone who fell and her body was found three days later when concerned neighbours broke open the door. It happened in New York, but it can happen anywhere. Our papers are full of stories of bodies of senior citizens being discovered days after their death. That’s no way to leave the planet.

Don’t get me wrong. I have lived a fully contented life. I have been blessed. I have no major regrets. By nature, I am a happy person but advances in medical sciences have made people like me live longer. We have all kinds of ailments to contend with. I am dependant on a cocktail of pills that the good doctor at Apollo has prescribed to me.

We are preoccupied with our health, with death just round the corner. When it comes, one hopes it will all end peacefully in bed without fuss and pain. These days I tire easily. I wonder sometimes if it is worth the effort to get up from the sofa to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

I tend to doze off while reading or watching television. I can’t go through the night without getting up from bed at least once to pee. I switch on the lights at odd hours to read a book in order to induce drowsiness and sleep. It works, especially when the book is quite dreadful. I refuse to take sleeping pills because they can be addictive.

I can, of course, end it all by tying a rope to the ceiling fan or jumping off a bridge. But that would be messy, and society stigmatises families of people who take that rather harsh route to exit the world. And I am not that badly off or that desperate. Far from it.

The good news is that help is on the way. There is a move afoot to allow “assisted death” in this country. Under strict conditions, with watertight guidelines, our doctors may soon be allowed to inject lethal drugs in patients who are terminally ill, in pain and with no hope of survival. A great idea, as long as the rules are not misused, to get rid of unwanted relatives who are a burden to the family.

If the patient qualifies, the doctor will write a prescription and inject a dose of a drug that will let you die painlessly surrounded by your loved ones. The procedure is known as “physician-assisted suicide”. No sensible person should object to putting an end to someone’s suffering in this way. It is an act of mercy, but many do on moral or religious grounds.

When I was in a Catholic school, we were taught that people who commit suicide would go straight to hell. The church considered suicide a mortal sin because the person had lost all hope, one of the three main pillars of the religion, together with faith and charity. The religion is more enlightened these days and shifted to the position that God is merciful; suicide is no longer an unforgivable sin.

Assisted death, euphemism for suicide under medical supervision, is allowed in a number of countries, including Austria, Belgium, Germany, Canada, Netherlands, Switzerland, and in some parts of US. The guidelines are stricter in some countries than in others. But everywhere only the terminally ill—those with no hope of long-term survival—can opt for assisted suicide.

In 2023, more than 15,000 people worldwide opted for doctor-assisted deaths. The largest number was in the Netherlands, 5 per cent of the total. It is one country that permits medically assisted deaths for people with dementia but most doctors there refuse to provide it. They do not wish to take on the moral burden of ending the life of someone who is no longer capable of giving his or her consent.

In other countries that allow assisted death, one has to be of sound mind, capable of requestingIt is all quite dignified; people are known to smile minutes before they fade away. Most times they are surrounded by their loved ones and it is not uncommon for everyone to share a bottle of whisky or wine before departure.

Britain is the most recent country that has started the process of legalising assisted dying. It is a seismic change in law and the vote in the House of Commons supporting the bill was fairly narrow, 330 legislators voted in favour to 275 against. The bill will allow adults who are expected to die within six months to seek help to end their own life.

Assisted dying is an emotionally and ethically challenging subject, which understandably receives varying degrees of acceptance. So far, Switzerland is the only country where the involvement of a doctor is not required in assisted suicide, but you still have to be terminally ill for it to be legal.

Even those who are not Swiss nationals can visit the country in order to access assisted dying. I knew someone living in London who booked a place in a clinic in Basel in advance and died there in the hands of competent doctors. He was relatively young but had serious health issues.

There is a major and crucial difference between euthanasia and assisted suicide. Euthanasia is where another person ends someone else’s life to relieve his suffering. It is a criminal offence worldwide. Assisted suicide, on the other hand, is where permission is given to end one’s life with the help of someone else, in most cases, a doctor.

The question arises—why limit assisted death to only those who are terminally ill? Why not extend the right to die to those of us who are in good health but, for whatever reason, do not wish to live any longer? They are also entitled to die with dignity if they so wish. Perhaps they don’t want to end their final years in a wheelchair or worse. Perhaps they are incapable of looking after themselves, and have no one else to turn to.

Not too long ago, people worked till about the age of 60. Soon afterwards, they died. Nehru died when he was 74, Vallabhbhai Patel at 75, and Jinnah at 71. It was all neat and tidy. The life span of an average Indian at one time was about 40. The children were not stuck long with parents who needed looking after. These days, people tend to live beyond 90. Some live happily despite ailments, other are often miserable.

It is still controversial, but the right to die is a concept that is gaining momentum, that freedom to end one’s life should not be limited only to the terminal ill or those in unbearable pain.

assisted deathhuman rightslegal issueslethal drugsright to dieterminally ill