The Right to Choice: in life and in death

I am not well equipped to deal with death and I am not alone. I am well aware that I (along with many others) have a false sense of indestructibility, a sense which not only denies the certainty of my own mortality but also that of the people who surround me. When death comes it is shocking and unbelievable. It is completely incomprehensible that at any moment my life or the life of somebody I love could be taken away. Even the act of writing about it seems morbid and unnecessary. "What happened to the 'glad game'?" you're saying, "let's get back to the random acts of kindness and smiles and happiness", and as I'm writing this I'm fighting the urge to do exactly that. The reason I will continue to fight that urge (for today at least) is a documentary I saw yesterday at the Sydney Film Festival which has left me contemplating death, not in a morbid or depressing way, but as it applies to life and the choices we have when that life is coming to an end.

Winner of the documentary category at this years Sundance Film Festival, 'How to Die in Oregon' is a powerful and moving exploration of the legalisation of doctor-assisted death for terminally ill patients in the State of Oregon, USA. The law which was enacted in 1997, was passed on the grounds that it was not doctor administered euthanasia (which is a physician delivered lethal injection) but rather a self-administered medication taken by physically able (although terminally diagnosed) and mentally fit patients. The film documented the final journey of several patients who had chosen to utilise the Death with Dignity Act, providing them the ability to obtain a prescription of lethal medications from a physician for voluntary self-administration if and when they chose.

Physician or family assisted death is understandably a very controversial ethical and medical debate, the fight for survival is strong in all of us and the voluntary ending of life is incomprehensible to many but  I think one of the most poignant points that each of the patients made when posed with opposition from people who disagree with the Act was that "I am not choosing death. I am simply exercising my right to die with dignity". Given the choice, each and every one of them would have chosen life but as untreatable patients of cancer and other degenerative illnesses, death had already chosen them. And we aren't talking about the type of death where you quietly and painlessly slip away in your sleep, these people were facing long, painful and humiliating declines in which they would suffer greatly for months, slowly losing control of their bodily functions and all quality of life. It is worth noting that not all patients in the documentary ended their lives using the medication, for some it was more for peace of mind than for actual use. And for those who did self-administer the medication, they did so after much counselling and consultation with physicians and social workers, and only at the point when the pain and suffering had become too much to continue on.

Not surprisingly their stories moved me to tears on more than one occasion. Watching those people and their families coming to terms with their fast approaching mortality was extremely confronting. It left me contemplating my own life and health with extreme gratitude as well as how I would handle such a situation if it were me or my friends or family. I pray that I will never find myself or someone I love in their shoes but the fact is that there are many people facing terminal illness every day and in Australia we are not provided the legal right to die with dignity. Whilst I understand that many people for religious or other reasons are opposed to such an option I strongly believe that each and every individual should have the right to make that choice for themselves. Article Five of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that: ''No one shall be subjected to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment" and I believe the right for a death with dignity falls into that category. Apparently I am not alone in my thoughts on the subject, with 85% of Australians believing in the right of the terminally ill to obtain medical assistance to end their lives, but still it is not legislated.

If you respect the right to choose please visit these websites to find out more and support the legislation of the human right to die with dignity in Australia:

Your Last Right
Death With Dignity NSW

Can you afford to "Live Below the Line"?

"Poverty is the worst form of violence" - Mahatma Gandi
 
For those as fortunate as myself, Sundays are a glorious time of the week. Today was especially so; I stayed in bed late, ate all my favourite foods (ok, not ALL, I have a lot), strolled in the sunshine, talked and laughed with the people I love, sipped margaritas at sunset by the beach and to top it all off I was gifted a gorgeous bunch of flowers from one of my most favourite people (thank you!!). However between the sleeping, strolling, tequila and talking I must confess I was having a severe battle of the conscience. And here's why...

I heard about this campaign yesterday and went online this morning to see what it was all about. As soon as I watched this video I immediately wanted to jump up and shout "Hell yes! I'm in Hugh! Sign me up! Send me the t-shirt! I'm your girl". For a good five minutes I thought, without question I can make the small sacrifice and eat for $2 a day ($1.50 was the American equivalent) for five days to help raise awareness for world poverty. My social conscience was already mentally putting up the banners and streamers for anti-poverty party week and then the bubble burst, I came out of my "do-gooder" induced hyperactivity for a moment and stopped to think.

The Live Below the Line challenge begins tomorrow, so first of all I'm a little behind the eight ball for registration and fundraising. But secondly and slightly more significantly, I have two huge uni assessments due this Friday, I have a 40 hour work week and just to keep it interesting I've been battling some form of cold/flu/virus for the past couple of weeks, which I just can't seem to shake. So I sat myself down and I said, "Rachel, given all of the above factors, do you really think this week is a good time to potentially deprive yourself of nutrition and energy for a boat which has practically set sail?". I found the answer to be depressingly ironic, "I can't afford to live BELOW the poverty line", at least not this week anyway. This was the sensible choice and at that moment I thought about how ridiculously privileged I was to be able to make it. There are 1.4 billion people on the planet who do not have that privilege. Those people live on the equivalent of $2 a day and for them that is not just for food, that is for EVERYTHING.

So in between all the glory that was my Sunday as mentioned above, I kept experiencing those occasional moments of inner turmoil that only come from a battle of the conscience: "Will I? Won't I? Of course you can! You can't afford to! Make a sacrifice!", and back and forth it went. Finally this evening I sat down and decided I needed to make peace with myself and this is what I came up with...

Firstly I would like to convey my support to all those beautiful, amazing, generous people who have taken the pledge, raised money and will for the next five days sacrifice one of my favourite comforts: food. Secondly I would like to express my overwhelming gratitude for the all the comforts and luxuries I was privileged to today (and every day), that I often take for granted. I am so extremely fortunate to live in a country and in a manner which affords me the choice to say, "No, I will not live below the poverty line". Thirdly in a gesture of support I have sponsored five people, one for each day of the challenge in which I will not be taking part. And lastly, as a symbolic gesture and to quiet my conscience I've decided to give up some of my favourite comforts this week: coffee, sugar and wine. It's not much but sometimes making a little sacrifice helps us to stop, contemplate and appreciate the things for which we are so fortunate that we often take for granted.

For anybody interested in finding out more about global poverty, joining the challenge or supporting those taking part please visit http://www.livebelowtheline.com.au/.

A tribute to my greatest teacher

 

"We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude" - Cynthia Ozick

I have had many teachers along the way; some loveable and infinitely memorable, whilst others I would prefer to forget. They weren't always in the classroom and many who have made the biggest impact on my life have never held a teaching degree. Their ages range from eighteen months to 104 years and they have come in many forms: strangers, friends, family, work colleagues, even animals. I didn't always like the lessons they had to teach but in hindsight I now see they were invaluable and I would like to take this opportunity to express my boundless gratitude to all of them.

There is one however, that shines far brighter the rest and whom I would especially like to pay tribute to today. Whilst she might not be aware of it, she is the inspiration for me embarking on this journey of the social conscience, and the reason for this is twofold: firstly because she gave birth to me and without her I would not even be here today; but secondly, because she has been my most influential role model, teacher and guide in matters of love, compassion, generosity and kindness.  She above all others is the one who has instilled and inspired in me a strong desire to be good and do good and for that I will be eternally grateful.

Now I know I am slightly biased in my praise and admiration of her but I'm sure there are many others who would join me in celebrating her beautiful humanity and infectious spirit. She taught me many lessons, some spoken: "treat others the way you would want to be treated" and "play the 'glad game'"; others unspoken, such as how to look for and find the good in the world and to show kindness and compassion, leading by example. Her empathy is limitless, she shares in the joys and sorrows of anybody and everybody who touches her life, with many tears and I would hope even more laughter. She has a passion for little people and I am so proud that she now makes a living out of working in the classroom as a teacher's aide, instilling all the most important lessons in the future generations. Her enthusiasm, passion, kindness and compassion are infectious and I am so happy and grateful that she continues to spread her gifts among the many little people who are lucky enough to pass through her classroom. If everybody grew up with a little bit of Mrs Banks in their lives, the world would be an immeasurably better place.

I would like to share one example of her humanity and generous spirit that particularly stands out in my mind. Firstly I need to frame this story by saying my mother has an obsession with long hair. She has always had beautiful, golden, long hair (and probably always will) and during my childhood any suggestion of my sister or I getting our hair cut was met with unbridled shock and horror: "You have such beautiful, long hair, why would you want to cut it off??!!".

It was a couple of years ago when my mother was working in the school library, I remember her coming home and telling me about a beautiful little girl in the lower primary school who had started losing her hair. They eventually discovered that she had a rare condition and whilst it wasn't life threatening, it meant that she would lose all her hair, permanently. Mum was very distressed, not because of her love of hair but because this beautiful little person (whom she only knew from library visits) might suffer taunts and trauma during some of her most formative years as a result of this hair loss.

Less than a week later I remember Mum coming home and telling me she was going to cut off her hair, to which I immediately responded: "But you have such beautiful, long hair, why would you want to cut it off??!!". I can tell you now the reasons were her empathy, compassion, generosity and kindness: the little girl needed a wig, the cost was great and the wait was long so my Mum had decided she would donate her own hair. As it turns out they could only use uncoloured hair so in the end she got to keep her long, golden locks but I think the gesture of offering speaks just as loudly as the act itself.

I love you Mum. Thank you for teaching me the most important and valuable lessons in life. I am so proud to be your daughter. Happy Mother's Day x