To die or to 'assisted' die?

4 minute read time.

That is the question or will be this week for our elected representatives.

I now fall squarely into the category of people that the proposed legislation is intended to apply to. Two weeks ago my palliative chemotherapy was stopped. The drugs did not work and my cancer has continued to spread. I now have ten lesions in my liver. These are the most active of my cancers. There has been some increase in both my lungs and the lesions in my lymph nodes and bowel are stable. It would appear that my original cancer, the small bowel lesion, was contained by this springs course of radiotherapy, but not before it had sent out colonising forces to the four corners of my body.

And now, I also have cancer in my bones! Identified in my right humerus, pelvic girdle and sacrum. I have a total of 9 discrete cancer locations, with perhaps a tenth on its way. This week, I have developed quite severe pain in my left elbow. I don’t know if this is muscular, nerve or the cancer finally giving me some symptoms. An x-ray showed nothing conclusive and further scans have been requested. The pain is enough to keep me awake and a good dose of codeine and malted Scottish mineral water is needed to get me off to sleep!

Prior to each chemo cycle, I have a blood test. These are checked to see if I am ‘well’ enough to be poisoned. They are also checked for various ‘indicators’ and one of these is called ‘CEA tumour marker’. A CEA reading of over 2.9 may indicate cancer, my reading came in at over 800. So, an early CT scan was organised followed by a face to face with the consultant oncologist. We met the consultant in what we have now named ‘The room of doom’. They gave us the disappointing news and their decision to stop the palliative chemotherapy. I have a number of side-effects from the treatment and these have got markedly worse as the cycles have progressed.

The consultant did describe another form of palliative treatment and, also, said that they were doubtful that this would work. My rare, hard-arse signet ring cancer cells would probably ignore this in much the same way as they have ignored the two previous chemotherapies.

The oncology team have referred me to St Margarets Hospice and one of their nurses has already visited for an initial conversation. The oncologist’s prognosis was that I had ‘months’ and that it will be liver failure that kills me. Apparently, I will probably get more fatigued, loose my appetite and fade out. Which sounds somewhat better than the horror show that they have previously described should it be rampant bowel cancer symptoms that kill me. Bizarrely, this sounded, almost, like good news! The hospice nurse thought that I would probably get some OK months; as the chemo side effects reduce and before the cancer takes me down.

But now, the arm pain? Is this cancer or have I picked up a muscle or nerve injury?

So, terminal diagnosis, no further treatment options and months to live. How do I feel about a change in the law that would give me the legal right to end my own life? Obviously, this legislation, if passed, is unlikely to affect me as the parliamentary process will exceed my life span.

This is, I think, a really hard question.

Now, I don’t want a long, drawn out and painful death. I have discussed with the hospice a legally binding document that will preclude me being resuscitated should I go into cardiac failure. They will produce this and I can keep it with me and ensure that family and close friends are aware – they can make the paramedics a cup of tea and have a chat rather than shock me back into existence. If I am fading away and there is a fair amount of pain, then I would like some decent drugs to take the edge off. But do I want to actually consciously flip the switch and end my life? I am really not sure on this at all.

And I do appreciate the ‘slippery slope’ argument and the fear that some people may feel a conscious or even self-inflicted pressure to die, so that they are no longer a ‘burden’.

I do appreciate that I have previously described our politicians as numpties. A category of human that I have inhabited on too many occasions! I do feel lucky to live in a country where we can elect our leaders without coercion, and I don’t envy them having to make this decision. How would I vote if I were an MP?

I simply don’t know.

Right now, what I would like is for my arm to stop hurting, to have a few months of OK health and then to be supported through my death with sufficient pain relief to make it bearable and enough practical support so that I can die at home. Preferably while watching the birds in the garden and with those that I love nearby.

To our politicians, I would like to say, vote for what you think is right. I won’t judge you either way and I don’t envy you this decision.

 

(28th November 2024)

Anonymous
  • Well written, well thought out and I assume very therapeutic, and my god I wish you didn't have to write it at all!

    We all come into this world with no expectations and we leave behind us a legacy of our existence. All we can hope for is that we have left behind a world that is better for us having been there and I am sure you will have done so.

    Everyday is a school day for me as I am lucky to be here. All I can say is make the most of what you have left, enjoy your family and friends and if you are up to doing things just do them!!

    Yes I have a view on "assisted death" - I have seen family and friends suffer and am a great believer in DNR and if I get to that "point of no return" i would make my wishes known.

    However - you are here with us and we have the onset of winter - the arm pain could be "old age" - I urge you to make the most of every day - enjoy life to the full and if there's anything your Macmillan "family" can do for you let us know.  Keep blogging it's great to chat.

    Kind Regards - Brian.

  • Assisted dying is an option I would like available to me, but I have no idea whether I would exercise it if it was available. If only you could get approved, be issued the drugs, and then lock them away in a safe at home until really needed. Having seen a close relative and friend die horrible, messy deaths from end stage cancer, which was not in either case sufficiently eased by pain relief, I think you probably will know when (and I hope it is if) it is desirable to shorten the process of dying. I suspect by then it’s too late anyway to obtain the necessary doctor and judge approvals. So I hope the politicians vote yes, despite all the issues involved. Meanwhile, I hope you can resolve the pain in your elbow and make the most of the time you have. 

  • Thank you for posting this very thoughtful and insightful blog.  I was with you every step of the way, waiting for your "call" until the end of the blog. Love your reference to the "numpies".

    There was a vote in Holyrood on this a few years back but it didn't pass. I think the result will be the same in Westminster.  These are deep and challenging issues and therefore I expect many undecideds will vote against.  It is such a big issue to vote for. I have been reading the articles on how they have implemented it elsewhere.  Myself, I am very much in the slippery slope camp, but fully understand Esther's Rantzen's position.  I also suspect the thresholds will exclude people who have a worthy case - those without the appropriate prognosis.  

    I hope your arm stops hurting too.

  • Thank you Brian, it is always lovely to hear from you and I value your support. Yes, I do find writing therapeutic, somehow, it makes me feel like I have some kind of control over what is happening, which I plainly don't! Deep inside, I don't think that I have really accepted what is happening to me. 

  • Thank you. I am going to have another MRI scan soon to check my arm out. And before that, we are heading down to Dartmoor for a few days (with a big bag of painkillers!)