Genevieve Alison: We should have choice when it comes to heartbreaking goodbyes
WHEN Mum drew her last laboured breath, I was squeezing her hand so tightly I almost lost feeling in my own, writes Genevieve Alison.
Opinion
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WHEN Mum drew her last laboured breath, I was squeezing her hand so tightly I almost lost feeling in my own.
I can remember distinctly where each family member was sitting, what song was playing and even where the family dog had placed itself at the end of the bed.
Not many people get to say they were holding their loved one’s hand when they died.
But for me the memory is both a blessing and a constant nightmare.
VOLUNTARY EUTHANASIA LAWS TO GO BEFORE VICTORIAN PARLIAMENT
There was nothing sudden about Mum’s death.
We had time to prepare for it, to make plans and to say all the things we wished each other to hear and hold on to in the dark times of grief that were to follow.
But after the planning and goodbyes were said and done came the awful part — the waiting.
We helplessly waited almost three weeks for our dear Mum to slowly die.
Three weeks too long.
When my mother lost her brave battle with breast cancer earlier this year, she had endured the painful disease for almost six years.
“Two years of hope and four years of dread,” Dad would say.
While we did have many good months — holidays, birthdays, wedding anniversaries and family Christmases — each milestone was a solemn reminder that it might be her last.
At 170cm tall and just 37kg, she looked as anyone who was dying would look.
She fought so hard for so many years to stay just that little bit longer with us.
But eventually she made her final decision — she was too tired to keep fighting.
She told us through tears from her hospital bed and we said the only thing that she needed to hear: “It’s OK, you can let go.”
I’ve lost count of how many times we would repeat that phrase over the coming weeks.
Because even after she had made her decision and we brought her home, the uphill battle had only just begun.
For three heartbreaking weeks, we watched her slowly fade.
Her skin greyed and she lost her expression. She couldn’t speak and began suffering from terminal restlessness.
She was constantly anxious and scared going to sleep at night for fear of being alone.
There were several close calls where we assembled on the bed to soothe her cries and tell her it was okay for her to stop fighting.
But each time, her body would defy her and she would draw another breath.
We slept in shifts and rarely got dressed, too nervous to leave the house in case we were gone too long.
I often wonder, while the memories are still fresh, if Mum had the choice whether she would’ve made sure she went sooner.
Given the option, would she have chosen to end her life after we had said our last goodbyes and she was still sound of mind?
I can’t say for sure what her answer would have been.
I don’t know whether she would’ve chosen to go down the path of assisted suicide or not. But I know she would have wanted the choice and I would’ve wanted that for her.
The freedom to choose to end her suffering sooner; to hasten the inevitable. If that’s what she wanted.
But most importantly, the choice should have been hers to make, not politicians sitting in parliament, who didn’t know her or what she’d been through.
While euthanasia may be a politically sensitive subject, it deserves the attention, consideration and, most importantly, the compassion of our policy makers.
The State Government’s response to the End of Life Choices Inquiry and the move to introduce voluntary euthanasia laws is a sign that its MPs are finally listening — not only to the public but also to their peers.
Several MPs have come forward to share their own personal experiences and views on the issue, including Premier Daniel Andrews, who admitted his views on euthanasia changed after losing his father to cancer earlier this year.
It should not take the loss of a loved one to change the minds of the rest of those voting to pass these new laws. We all die — there’s nothing more certain in this world than that.
So just as we discuss and debate the laws that determine how we live, should we not give the same attention to the laws that affect how some of us die?
GENEVIEVE ALISON IS A HERALD SUN JOURNALIST
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