Applauding unconditional love

The recent case of 23-year-old Dan James, who travelled to a Swiss clinic assisted by his parents in order to end his own life after a rugby accident left him tetraplegic, has been heartbreaking to watch.

My heart goes out to his family, who did the only thing they could, this ultimate act of love.

I may understand this better than most because it’s a conversation I’ve already had with my own family. I have a chronic, degenerative disease that will certainly become unbearable at some point in the future and despite the “sanctity of life”, should I become unable to bear the pain and dependence, I don’t intend to hang around for it.

And if, by that point, I am physically unable to end my own life, I’ll have to hope that someone loves me enough to help me find peace.

Of course, if by some miracle I manage to retain my sense of humour despite the spoon-feeding and nappy-changing that I know is to come, then I’ll take up mouth-painting and get on with it.

But the choice, surely, should be mine.

Dan’s situation, however, was very different to mine. I’ve had 13 years to learn to live with my disability and though the first few years were pretty bleak, I gradually got the hang of it. Dan was a super-fit and healthy 23-year-old, bursting with potential and vitality who had his whole life turned around in one crushing, catastrophic moment. He was plunged headfirst into his worst nightmare with no hope he’d ever wake up.

I can’t help wondering if in time he could have adjusted to his changed life and found some happiness, his injuries still being quite new. But I also know just how long and hard a road emotional recovery is, and I can’t condemn a lad of 23 for being unable to bear a life of certain misery based on the uncertain hope of future happiness.

Just take a moment to imagine that the only control you have in your life is in the movement of your fingers. Imagine being doubly incontinent. Imagine being unable to eat, drink or scratch your nose without help. Imagine at such a young age, knowing you’ll never have a loving relationship with a partner again. And just imagine what it’s like to know all these things because your mind is as active and sharp as ever.

But the final indignity must be to be unable to choose whether to live or die.

The only way Dan could have taken his own life, independently, and he’d already tried three times, would have been to slowly starve himself to death.

His parents did the only decent thing they could by ensuring he didn’t suffer this final torment and I applaud them for their loyal courage and unconditional love.

I just hope our justice system does the right thing for once and agrees with me.