Elizabeth's eyes are livelier than you'd expect for an 88-year-old who's had enough of living. They sparkle with humour, intelligence and, yes, joie de vivre.
But she believes the joy of living is behind her - "and it's been a wonderful life!" she stresses.
Now, and ahead, Elizabeth sees a painful, uncomfortable, degrading end-of-life stage. She clearly, dearly, wants to die - on her own terms, while she's still firm enough of mind and her fast-failing body to actually make it happen.
But she is stymied by the law and by those well-meaning, caring people.
A couple of months ago Elizabeth nearly succeeded in her carefully laid plan to die painlessly, with dignity, in her own home and at peace with the world. (Elizabeth is not her real name, she wishes not to offend or worry friends who may not share her beliefs).
With several life threatening conditions that are fast eroding her quality of life, she says she signed an Advance Directive which under present law gives someone who is very ill the right to refuse further treatment. For a year now she's had notes stuck on the fridge door and around her house requesting no resuscitation should she be found in a near death state.
So, earlier this year she wrote her last letters to loved ones, got the house sorted and the washing up to date.
She timed her death to take place on a weekend her son was out of town, and between two different caregivers' morning and evening visits so she had a number of hours in which death could enfold her before anyone arrived.
That day Elizabeth told her morning caregiver she wanted to stay in bed and shooed the woman away. She had already taken the step that would end her life.
But as she lay unconscious in her bed, dying, a chance encounter between her two caregivers at the shops saw her plan unravel.
"The shower lady met up with the dinner lady, and they put their heads together," she says.
The evening caregiver popped around early to check all was well, saw the curtains were still closed and Elizabeth was not about, and telephoned Elizabeth's son to bring his keys around. Another seam of Elizabeth's carefully stitched plan was undone - she had counted on her son being out of town but he hadn't gone away after all.
He and the caregiver found Elizabeth in a deep coma. They had no choice but to call St John Ambulance.
The ambos found a weak heartbeat and were obliged to try to resuscitate Elizabeth. It is their job to try to save lives and in this patient's case it was a simple procedure with an immediate response, Whangarei St John manager Tony Devanney says.
If Elizabeth had been left alone she would have died, but she was not irreversibly at death's door.
"If that damn heart is still thumping, they'll bring you back," Elizabeth says.
WHEN SHE left hospital after the failed attempt to die, a psychiatric assessment stated she was not depressed.
It also said she faced "ongoing pain and a dismal outlook".
Elizabeth isn't thrilled about the word dismal.
"You'd go a long way to find someone less dismal. I'm not depressed, not at all! I've got plenty wrong with me except up here," she says pointing at her head.
Elizabeth says she has often discussed the matter of a sick person's right to choose to die with medical staff who care for her during her frequent stays in Whangarei Hospital, where she has a "do not resuscitate" order in place.
She has belonged to the Voluntary Euthanasia Society of New Zealand for 30 years but stresses that "euthanasia" is not really the right term, with its association of "having the dog put down".
Her friend Pat Gray, listening to Elizabeth's story, agrees.
"It's the right to have a medically-assisted death when terminally ill, legally and ethically for all involved, as one's own request and decision." Gray says.
Gray and Elizabeth both belong to an end-of-life-choice focus group which has the goal of informing people about Labour MP Maryan Street's now shelved End of Life Choice Bill.
"Our focus is to educate people about the intent and content of the bill, and ask for our politicians to support it at least until after its first reading," Gray says.
"The picture that has been built up is that the 'choice' becomes that of other people to end someone else's life. It is not that at all, it's self-choice."
Assisted dying is illegal in Britain, where there is also a bill for change before Parliament. Since the Swiss assisted-death clinic Dignitas opened in 1998, 200 Britons have chosen to end their lives there.
Belgium, Holland and some US states also have medically-assisted death legislation. In Holland less than 2 per cent of eligible people use it.
"In Oregon assisted dying accounts for less that one per cent of those with terminal illnesses who have opted for hastening their deaths," Gray says.
"So is this the beginning of the slippery slope? No."
THE DRAFT consultation paper on the New Zealand End of Life Choice Bill states its purpose is to provide individuals with the choice and to receive medical assistance to die under certain circumstances. Two medical practitioners would attest the person was mentally competent, and had a terminal illness likely to cause death within 12 months or an irreversible physical or mental condition that made life unbearable.
The Bill provides for protection against abuse or coercion, its supporters say.
Twice before in New Zealand similar bills have gone nowhere: one in 1995 soundly defeated by 61/29 votes; the second, in 2003, narrowly defeated by 60/58.
Over 10 years on, the conversation around the controversial issue has not died.
Street removed her bill from the private member's ballot late last year so "voluntary euthanasia" couldn't become a political football in election year. It will be back on the political agenda "like a shot" after the election, Street said.
Prime Minister John Key has said he broadly supported the principle of voluntary euthanasia and would consider it if he was terminally ill - however, he said the Government would not introduce it as policy.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth says her life has gone too far. No-one wants to die alone at one's own hand if the alternative were a loving farewell at a chosen time at the end of a good life, she says. But she is almost - almost - resigned to the fact she can't do much about it herself except hope for a law change.
"Everybody's just so jolly nice and watching me like a hawk, there's no way I can quietly do myself in."
