Post by johnofgwent on Jan 17, 2024 9:17:29 GMT
Good one, and i missed that in the midst of other posts.
The whole idea behind this is that you take a decision when you are still legally fit to make it, to cover what is to happen when you are not. I’ve only had minimal experiences of this condition, in the immediate aftermath of my mini stroke. I had limited control of some systems and full control of others. To suffer as my mother did a failure of communication and physical ability is a scenario too horrific for me to contemplate.
But your postulation is far worse. I’m not sure what medical condition you have in mind, but the problem i see is persuading the legal profession you are of sound mind in that mental state to be allowed to enjoy that level of control.
I have no idea what would be the outcome. I fear you would be sentenced to life. I use that phrase advisedly from a plsy of that name covering the topic of assisted suicide following physical disease. That i saw that performed on a west end stage forty years ago at least suggests how long this wider issue has gone unresolved…
Suicide isnt illegal. It’s not even difficult…unless you try it .
Maybe we could be prescribed’ kill pills ‘ from our local pharmacy to save us from fear and pain at the point where we jump off the stool or the long slow wait of that last few milli seconds as the train closes in . All part of the process of our bodies telling us that we didnt really want to do it anyway.
Whos life is it anyway ? Ask the one trying to tempt uncle Arthur with dementia that assisted suicide is for the best.
I see this in much the same way as I see abortion ( who’s body us it anyway?) sometimes it’s the wise course to take a life but shouldn’t be seen as an easy way out or an easy way to check out . Every assisted suicide should be seen as a failure of some kind or another .
Well if we’re going there ….
It was an interesting day
At ten o clock a message came through that the phone lines and website were going offline at 12 and that a number of coaches were arriving to take us to a hotel conference facility three miles away.
Past experience suggested i take my personal effects, which i did, and to look for the uniformed security guards hiding out of sight as they were at the stock exchange, but there was no sign
One of the management walking up the stairs directly behind me said to a colleague ‘i suppose Neil’s finally sorted out the performance bonusses’ and i do not think they were joking, as later reports would indicate few other than people like me who had direct access to the raw data through the database i designed, developed and maintained knew the true picture.
After the announcement i went to the head office canteen / restaurant and ordered a plate of pretty much everything. One of the now very much ex managing head’s very much ex personal assistants walked in behind me, her mascara having surrendered its waterproofing guarantee to a deluge of lysozyme and flashed me an angry look followed by an accusation of ‘having it in me to eat at a time like this’
To which in a tone Mr Spock would be proud of i said ‘Lara, is this your first redundancy P45 ? Because this is my fifth. Speaking as a molecular biologist anger and adrenalin is right now cutting you an ulcer where this morning you had a diet plan. Take my advice. Screw the diet today. Don’t throw it away all werk, but right niw, grab a plate. Because you will need it this afternoon, you need to focus on polishing up your CV’
About three hours later i left the office and started to walk the eleven miles home instead of waiting for a bus
The road crossed above the A48M with its fast moving articulated lorries. The barriers erected to prevent accidental pedestrian fallers were singularly ineffective as a deterrent for the slightly more determined. But someone had clearly tipped off the plod, as two hobby bobbies stood in bright dayglo yellow at each end of the bridge.
Fearing he had a customer, one of them wandered in my direction as i stood watching the lorries thunder past ….
You could see the fear in his eyes. If anything pure anger surged through me that yet again Blair’s costcutting had sent a boy to do a man’s job. Then it occurred to me that some bastard shrink might have advised they do just that to make people like me too angry …
I looked this kid barely old enough to shave, in a stupidly ill fitting stab jacket that looked worse in him than my uninflated scuba BCD did on me, and said just one thing …..
‘I reckon with the lorry doing 60 the intestines will be strung out for about 400 yards after disembowelling on impact’
He thought about that for a second then said ‘yeah, that might be about right’
I said ‘nah, i can’t give you that job’ and walked on.
So yeah, i failed. But only out of a desire not to make some poir bastard’s day as bad as mine was