Heather Major with her daughter Rachel, who is now 17. Photo / supplied
Heather Major with her daughter Rachel, who is now 17. Photo / supplied
Opinion
COMMENT
Sometimes I wonder whether Pakeha have sold out of the idea of family, and Māori are starting to as well.
I like the broad definition of whānau. Whānau is my extended family. I can use it to mean my family, neighbours, friends and any group I identify with.
The final version of the End of Life Choice bill, which has its Third Reading and vote on Wednesday, is about choosing to die prematurely without involving whānau unless you want them involved.
To reiterate: It means you can leave out whānau when it comes to deciding about your premature death.
Who is going to talk to their whānau about euthanasia or assisted suicide if they know they will be opposed? My husband died of a brain tumour at 42, having outlived a terminal prognosis several times and having been under hospice three times over eight years. If this bill had been around then, and he had been suicidal, and I wasn't supportive of his wish to die, he just wouldn't have told me.
When people don't want to be talked out of any kind of suicide by family, they just won't talk to them about it.
Let's be clear on the definitions. The Bill proposes four methods for the administration of a lethal dose: ingestion or intravenous delivery triggered by the person (assisted suicide); and ingestion through a tube or injection (euthanasia).
It is assisted suicide when a person receives help to access a deadly dose to swallow or self-administer. It is assisted suicide when the person who dies takes the final action that ends their life. It is euthanasia when someone else takes the final action that ends the person's life, for example by administering a lethal injection. The bill is about both euthanasia and assisted suicide. The stakes are very high.
Many of us presume that the bill will only be accessed by people with pain that is difficult to control, in the very final stages of their life. But the very real risk is that people will access it for the underlying reasons of a lack of societal or professional support, or existential suffering, or undiagnosed depression – all things that are connected to their terminal illness, but also treatable.
Heather Major. Photo / supplied
And if suffering people are able to access euthanasia and assisted suicide without talking to their whānau, then any chance of addressing the underlying reasons, and improving their support and care, will have gone. This is a distressing thought; not to mention the trauma it would cause the whanau who was not told.
New Zealand might be described as an individualist culture where the degree of interdependence our society maintains among its members is low. But I can't believe we don't care about the premature deaths of people who might, in their suffering, be unable and also unrequired to talk to the very people who may be able to help them. I care.
• Heather Major lives in Hamilton with her daughter Rachel and works with people with disabilities and the elderly.
