One day, my mother asked me what I thought about her requesting medical assistance in dying. My first reaction was: “Look, Mom, it’s your choice, you decide. I’m your son, I have my own feelings, but it’s not my place to interfere in your journey or in such an important decision. I couldn’t see myself influencing her, let alone trying to change her decision because of the way I might have seen things.
The next day, when I arrived, she had already taken the necessary steps to fill in the form. When the doctor came to ask her questions for the medical evaluation, she pointed out that she was having trouble breathing and was uncomfortable. She told him that when she was young, a villager had died of asphyxiation. The last thing she wanted was to go through this situation, or remain in her condition. She wanted the situation to be dealt with as quickly as possible. To qualify for medical assistance in dying, a person must have at least three end-of-life conditions. And my mother did.
On the day she died, my mother was 98 and a half years old. At that age, months count!