Post by ferris1248 on Apr 28, 2024 9:58:16 GMT -5
I can remember my Mother looking at her Doctor about a week before she died and saying, "They shoot horses don't they? "
"DENVER (AP) — On a brisk day at a restaurant outside Chicago, Deb Robertson sat with her teenage grandson to talk about her death."
"She’ll probably miss his high school graduation. She declined the extended warranty on her car. Sometimes she wonders who will be at her funeral."
"Those things don’t frighten her much. The 65-year-old didn’t cry when she learned two months ago that the cancerous tumors in her liver were spreading, portending a tormented death."
"But later, she received a call. A bill moving through the Illinois Legislature to allow certain terminally ill patients to end their own lives with a doctor’s help had made progress."
"Then she cried."
“Medical-aid in dying is not me choosing to die,” she says she told her 17-year-old grandson. “I am going to die. But it is my way of having a little bit more control over what it looks like in the end.”
"That same conversation is happening beside hospital beds and around dinner tables across the country, as Americans who are nearing life’s end negotiate the terms with themselves, their families and, now, state lawmakers."
"At least 12 states currently have bills that would legalize physician-assisted death. Eight states and Washington, D.C., already allow it, but only for their own residents.
"Vermont and Oregon permit any qualifying American to travel to their state for the practice. Patients must be at least 18 years old, within six months of death and be assessed to ensure they are capable of making an informed decision."
It was late at night when Rod Azama awoke to his wife crawling on the floor, screaming. Pain from her cancer had punched through the heavy morphine dose.
“Let me die,” screamed his wife, Susan.
As Rod rushed to hold her, the cries faded to repeated mumbles. “Heaven,” she said, again and again.
Susan, 68, pieced through her life’s belongings — family heirlooms, photos, an antique spinning wheel — touching the memories a final time. Then she decided where their next lives would be.
She said goodbye to her constant sidekick, a small, fluffy Maltipoo named Sunny. Rod packed the dog’s favorite toy, a stuffed bunny, as a reminder for Susan, who had to leave Sunny behind.
Then the two flew to Oregon.
www.usnews.com/news/health-news/articles/2024-04-12/im-dying-youre-not-those-terminally-ill-ask-more-states-to-legalize-physician-assisted-death
"DENVER (AP) — On a brisk day at a restaurant outside Chicago, Deb Robertson sat with her teenage grandson to talk about her death."
"She’ll probably miss his high school graduation. She declined the extended warranty on her car. Sometimes she wonders who will be at her funeral."
"Those things don’t frighten her much. The 65-year-old didn’t cry when she learned two months ago that the cancerous tumors in her liver were spreading, portending a tormented death."
"But later, she received a call. A bill moving through the Illinois Legislature to allow certain terminally ill patients to end their own lives with a doctor’s help had made progress."
"Then she cried."
“Medical-aid in dying is not me choosing to die,” she says she told her 17-year-old grandson. “I am going to die. But it is my way of having a little bit more control over what it looks like in the end.”
"That same conversation is happening beside hospital beds and around dinner tables across the country, as Americans who are nearing life’s end negotiate the terms with themselves, their families and, now, state lawmakers."
"At least 12 states currently have bills that would legalize physician-assisted death. Eight states and Washington, D.C., already allow it, but only for their own residents.
"Vermont and Oregon permit any qualifying American to travel to their state for the practice. Patients must be at least 18 years old, within six months of death and be assessed to ensure they are capable of making an informed decision."
It was late at night when Rod Azama awoke to his wife crawling on the floor, screaming. Pain from her cancer had punched through the heavy morphine dose.
“Let me die,” screamed his wife, Susan.
As Rod rushed to hold her, the cries faded to repeated mumbles. “Heaven,” she said, again and again.
Susan, 68, pieced through her life’s belongings — family heirlooms, photos, an antique spinning wheel — touching the memories a final time. Then she decided where their next lives would be.
She said goodbye to her constant sidekick, a small, fluffy Maltipoo named Sunny. Rod packed the dog’s favorite toy, a stuffed bunny, as a reminder for Susan, who had to leave Sunny behind.
Then the two flew to Oregon.
www.usnews.com/news/health-news/articles/2024-04-12/im-dying-youre-not-those-terminally-ill-ask-more-states-to-legalize-physician-assisted-death
