Distress

Euthanasia - or at least active euthanasia - is still a complicated affair in many European countries. So is assisted suicide. Either it carries heavy penalties for those responsible (not including the dead person), or there are a string of conditions that have to be rigorously met in order to avoid legal problems. In some countries (Switzerland), citizens and residents can join an association (Exit, Dignitas) ready to provide services to the terminally ill. There are fine lines here. But forget alarmist stories about buss loads of terminally ill being trucked in from Germany and beyond, of people who won't live to see the next dawn as soon as they have crossed the border.

Passive euthanasia is a different matter. Doctors at Lara's bedside referred to it as 'the distress protocol'. They up the level of morphine and other drugs until the patient loses consciousness, drifts into sleep and never wakes up. It is available to the terminally ill in a crisis situation (my wording). Clearly, Lara is in too good a shape to come even close to the protocol. Point is, however, her condition can change dramatically very quickly. This may be due to an acute infection (remember no immune defense system in place, just antibiotics) or she may start to bleed internally (remember, low platelets). In a way she now represents an alkaline battery. She will keep on going at a certain performance level, which then sharply drops off.

Patients may, of course, provoke their own crisis situation. They can refuse to be taken to the hospital for blood transfusions. Antibiotics may be declined. More dramatically, a patient can abstain from food or drink. Spiritually, patients may simply give up and refuse to fight off impossible odds.  

Lara may look terminal, but she hasn't decided to die. She is just getting ready for when the moment is upon her. Taking her time. Ideally, she would like to die at a moment of her own choosing, with a few selected people standing around her bed, a glass of champagne in their hands, toasting her, soft lighting, a little music, one last wave - and onwards. She knows it is probably not going to play out that way.

My tears are accumulating behind my eyes, I can feel them. They are just waiting to be released. This, dear friends, is not easy - not for the patient, but not for the next of kin either. Losing a spouse is one thing; losing a soul mate quite another.