I watched my mother's mother take 15 years to die of Alzheimer's disease.
In that time, Nan went from being simply absent minded to a walking corpse, devoid of everything that had defined her as a woman. In some ways, this end phase was a relief... she wasn't there any more. In others, it was like watching a continuous loop of film showing a horrific car crash, especially when you observed the effect on her primary carer, her husband, my step-grandfather. A man who largely saw it as his exclusive duty to do everything for his wife, taking full physical, emotional and fiscal burdens in the process.
For me, the greatest pain was the mid-phase of her last illness. In the blink of an eye, she would go from being an unknowing mute to fully aware of the incomprehensibility and horror of her situation and back again. In that moment, I would see Edvard Munch's The Scream; her agony and terror being writ that large in her eyes.
The 2010 Richard Dimbleby Lecture given by Terry Pratchett as read by Tony Robinson was broadcast by the BBC this evening. His lecture explored how modern society needs to redefine how it deals with death. The dignity and passion I witnessed had me in tears of admiration.
Anyone who has been in my Grandfather's position will have had nightmares concerning their own possible demise and wanted the ability to instruct family, friends and medical professionals to do their utmost to prevent such an end.
Sir Terence defined my views on the right to chose a better death in a way I've struggled to perfect for years. This lecture may just be his definitive work.
My mother may have trumped him for brevity: "If I am ever in the same situation, for God's sake, shove a pillow over my face".
In that time, Nan went from being simply absent minded to a walking corpse, devoid of everything that had defined her as a woman. In some ways, this end phase was a relief... she wasn't there any more. In others, it was like watching a continuous loop of film showing a horrific car crash, especially when you observed the effect on her primary carer, her husband, my step-grandfather. A man who largely saw it as his exclusive duty to do everything for his wife, taking full physical, emotional and fiscal burdens in the process.
For me, the greatest pain was the mid-phase of her last illness. In the blink of an eye, she would go from being an unknowing mute to fully aware of the incomprehensibility and horror of her situation and back again. In that moment, I would see Edvard Munch's The Scream; her agony and terror being writ that large in her eyes.
The 2010 Richard Dimbleby Lecture given by Terry Pratchett as read by Tony Robinson was broadcast by the BBC this evening. His lecture explored how modern society needs to redefine how it deals with death. The dignity and passion I witnessed had me in tears of admiration.
Anyone who has been in my Grandfather's position will have had nightmares concerning their own possible demise and wanted the ability to instruct family, friends and medical professionals to do their utmost to prevent such an end.
Sir Terence defined my views on the right to chose a better death in a way I've struggled to perfect for years. This lecture may just be his definitive work.
My mother may have trumped him for brevity: "If I am ever in the same situation, for God's sake, shove a pillow over my face".
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