Ann Macfarlane OBE

Ann Macfarlane OBE

Sunday, 16 February 2014

Euthanasia or Assisted Dying

Euthanasia or Assisted Dying

As a child I was issued with more than one death sentence.  The most memorable and traumatic came at the age of six.  Not having seen my parents for many months, as visitors were not allowed in those days, the Ward Sister stood at the end of my bed and pronounced. 'You are going to die.  Your Mummy and Daddy are coming to see you but you mustn't tell them because you will upset them.  They're coming at 2 o'clock.'  I was all too aware of the ward clock and the time I had to try and digest what she had said before they arrived.  On arrival, Sister produced two chairs for my visitors.   Before she sat down, Mother leaned over me, kissed me and put a colouring book and box of pencils on the sheet.  I clearly remember thinking, 'I should tell her to take them home because I won't be able to use them.' but I kept that thought to myself because I didn't want to upset her and Sister would be angry with me.  She was a formidable force to be reckoned with as I had learned on other occasions. 
Belgium has just passed a law that enables children aged twelve and over, together with parents and professional individuals to take the decision to terminate life.  'Euthanasia'' or the more familiar phrase 'assisted dying,' means that children deemed terminally ill and/or disabled and perceived as having little chance of an acceptable quality of life can be killed.  Anybody seeing me in the condition I was in between the ages of four and eighteen years might also have come to that conclusion. 

Despite a growing number of countries debating the pros and cons of the issue, there is public inertia when it comes to refuting the passing of these laws and, in some countries extending criteria to cover children. Instead of being front page news euthanasia is buried deep inside the national newspapers.  Maybe people feel threatened by the fact they are continually confronted with news of diminishing resources so people who are able, currently support themselves by operating in survival mode. There may be an underlying fear that the more people who need health and social care services the greater will be the added strain on what may be perceived as a dwindling economy and thus further diminish the quality of their lives.  Could this be the cause of the inertia or disinterest?

I am well into my seventies.  I have had a quality later life having worked, travelled, enjoyed family and Church life and life in general.  I thank God that those people around me in my early years saw fit to try and give me a reasonable quality of life, despite serious illness and impairment.  Not all felt I had a life worth living and that l learned second-hand in medical settings, but some did, and I am grateful that they took that approach even in  those earlier and often darker times.  Members of the public have said to me on occasions, 'I don't know how you can live like that, I couldn't stand it,' or words to that effect.  Maybe I had less of the struggle that some youngsters have today through advanced medical and surgical treatments, but mistakes are made. Decisions that take a life cannot be retracted. While it is a highly emotive issue, and I in no way wish to minimise or underestimate the complex and confusing circumstances in which families are situated and the often agonising decisions to be made by them and those in health and social care settings, killing is not the answer.  Irrespective of all the wrestling and soul-searching, a life terminated cannot be reversed. 

Life-threatening decisions are often taken because people experience extreme pain. It is not the only issue, but there are many settings in which the knowledge, skills, and equipment to deal with pain are lacking or missing.  I do have considerable experience of intractable pain levels and I have been fortunate to eventually meet with the people who do have the knowledge, skills and experience.
  
While people have the right to make choices and decisions, many decisions are made and taken without the relevant knowledge and information, with people available who have the lived and professional experience.  There is a history of taking the lives of ill and disabled children and adults whom others have deemed fit only for experiment and ultimately untimely death. The life deemed not worth living might turn out to be a life very much worth living.  I, and others, have lived to prove it.


Ann Macfarlane
February 2014

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About Ann MacfarlaneOBE

Ann became a trustee at the Social Care Institute for Excellence in 2007. Ann, a wheelchair user, is a leading Disability Rights and Equalities Consultant, focusing on health and social care as it affects disabled adults, irrespective of age. She specialises in Independent Living, Direct Payments and Personal Budgets, and has been involved in the UK disabled peoples' movement for many years. Ann is an 'expert by experience' for the Care Quality Commission, and works with the Department of Health, the NHS and other national Organisations. She is recognised in her community and is a member of the Local Authority's Safeguarding Board, chair of their Users Adults at Risk Group and the local Patient-Wide Forum. She is Patron of Kingston Centre for Independent Living. Ann has lectured worldwide on health and social care. Ann received her MBE in 1992, and an OBE in the Queen’s Birthday Honours in 2009. She was also awarded a Paul Harris Fellowship. Ann has particular responsibilities in her local United Reformed Church and enjoys photography, travel, art and gardens.