This programme contains scenes which
some viewers may find upsetting.
Oh, good. All the best here! It's
like being at the Ritz, isn't it?
Right, can I just change
what I say a little bit?
OK?
My name is Terry Pratchett, and I
write fantasy novels for a living.
I am 62
and I was diagnosed
with Alzheimer's
three years ago.
Sometimes, particularly
when I'm depressed,
I dread
what the future may hold.
And it occurred to me
that, in these modern times,
one shouldn't have
to fear that sort of thing.
I am talking about assisted dying,
which is currently not legal
in this country.
What you are about to watch...
..may not be easy,
but I believe it's important.
The people I will meet
in this film are all, like me,
considering how they will die.
Is it possible for someone like me,
or like you,
to arrange for themselves
the death that they want?
'Life with Alzheimer's,
at the moment,
'is full of small
but embarrassing inconveniences.
'I will forget your name almost
as soon as you've told it to me,'
because there is something wrong
with my short-term memory,
and I'm not going to make a joke
about that.
'A few years ago,
I stopped being able to type.
'Now I rely on my assistant, Rob,
'who takes dictation from me.'
..reached the undergrowth
at the edge of the dockyard...
Until THEY reached
the undergrowth. OK.
I'm very nearly finishing
the first draft of a book.
I think it's the 38th Discworld
novel. Is it?! Yeah. Bloody hell.
Was it any good? I think...
It's called Snuff. Which is snuff,
you know, the old...
In fact, I think
I've got some over there.
'But I know that the time will
come when words will fail me.
'When I can no longer
write my books,
'I'm not sure that I will want
to go on living.'
..I will stop the fight
when I deem that one man
has definitely had enough.
I want to enjoy life
for as long as I can squeeze
the juice out of it,
and then...I'd like to die.
But I don't quite know how,
and I'm not quite sure when.
There are plenty of people
in this country
who are against assisted dying,
for religious, moral
or even just practical reasons.
They fear
that we may open the floodgates
to widespread and uncontrollable
killing of the vulnerable.
'How do you guarantee
sincere consent?'
And what happens
to those who are left behind?
It's a delicate subject,
but my Alzheimer's means
that I'd like,
at least, to explore the options.
'I want to find out what it would
be like to be helped to die.'
SAT NAV: 'At 1-8 mile,
you have reached your destination.'
I began by going to meet a man
who has motor neurone disease,
a terminal illness.
'Turn right.'
He had been in contact
with Dignitas,
an organisation in Switzerland
which, for a fee,
will help you to die.
Hello! Hello. Good morning!
Terry Pratchett. Christine Smedley.
Come in. Thank you.
This is my husband, Peter Smedley.
Ah, Mr Pratchett. How do you do?
I'm delighted to meet you.
Excuse me not...standing up.
No, will you excuse me if I sit
down? I'd be delighted.
Would you like a cup of tea?
A cup of tea would be very nice.
I have motor neurone disease
and I thought I would barely make
my birthday in January this year,
but... Right.
The course of the disease
is most unattractive.
And the fact
that there was no...
there was no treatment
for it. Right.
My condition has deteriorated
to a point
where I feel
I need to go fairly shortly. Mm-hm.
So you almost immediately
contacted Dignitas? Yes.
This is not an affliction that one
wants to see through to the end.
No, indeed.
It's a beastly,
undignified business, and...
..I look on Dignitas
as a...as a way out, really,
to assist me,
to be free of this affliction.
I feel, if I...
can fly free of it,
that pleases me.
I can't make any major
decision without my wife.
What do you think
about your husband's determination?
We do discuss things,
but if I don't agree,
that doesn't mean to say
that he won't do things.
In theory, at least, you're putting
yourself and your wife
in some risk.
That's the last thing I want.
I've decided
that I will not make a decision
until I'm in Switzerland,
which is entirely outside
the jurisdiction of this island.
The solicitor said,
"If Mrs Smedley accompanies you,
"it will be against the law,
and Mrs Smedley can go to
jail for 14 years."
So Peter wrote back and said,
"If it is deemed in the interests
of society,
"I'm sure Mrs Smedley
will be pleased to do her time."
TERRY LAUGHS
Well, the whole thing
is so ridiculous.
I spent 11 weeks sitting
with my mother in intensive care
in a Sussex hospital, and she kept
looking at me and doing this.
And that had
a very profound effect on me.
I wouldn't put my dog or my cat
through...
an unpleasant, undignified ending,
and I don't want
that locked-in feeling for him,
so I'm quite supportive, really.
I think it's a better...better way
than eking it out to the end.
The thing that actually
worries me about Dignitas...
it is a kind of one-stop shop.
You go in, as it were,
and you come out in an urn. Yes.
That does not sound right.
There is something distasteful
about this.
It sounds like machinery. It does.
And that's one step away
from using the word Nazi... Yes...
..which I'm not using about
Dignitas.
And the fact that they're German...
Probably one shouldn't say that.
Well, they're Swiss, actually.
They're Swiss German.
But when you talk to them,
it's slightly Teutonic!
LAUGHTER
Right.
Are you ready to come for a tour?
Ooh, yes. Wander round.
What was the family business?
Canning. Smedley's.
We canned everything.
Fruit, vegetables, peas.
We were the first...
You were Smedley's? Yes.
Like Smedley's Peas?
We are Smedley's Peas, yes.
Yes. I must have eaten
an awful lot of Smedley's Peas.
Yes, that's my husband's car.
He had a model made.
When I first met Peter,
he was driving this.
And he'd had aeroplanes in Rhodesia,
which is where I come from.
And my father had had airplanes
in Rhodesia,
so we suddenly had an
awful lot to talk about.
And he said,
"Would you like to drive it?"
So I said, "I would -
that would be fun."
That was not a car for driving -
that was a car for owning.
It was a car for pulling birds,
I think!
It clearly worked! And I think
he was quite successful at it!
'You walk around the house,
and things gleam and shine,
'marvellous things
collected over the years,
'and a wine cellar
that I would kill for,
'and you think, you know,
"They've got it all." '
You're up. Let me get you on the go
and then I'll take...
'You can meet Peter and think,
"Well, you're struggling a bit,
but you've obviously got money,
' "so why would you think
of assisted dying?" '
Oh, sorry.
I'll take you to the wall.
Lovely. Rather large.
They're generous in their portions.
They are.
I did fall over a week or two,
a few weeks ago,
and I found I couldn't
even get off the floor.
I'm looking for that point
in time
where I really can't risk
leaving it any longer.
And that's
my deciding factor, really.
You seem to be taking this
very calmly, and YOU seem
to be taking it very calmly.
If we start being emotional, we both
fall apart. We work quite hard
at keeping a good front.
I don't think
we're terribly strong.
I think
we're quite vulnerable underneath.
And if we go there,
and Peter says, "Actually,
I really don't want to do this,"
that's fine, we'll come home again.
Yes. Yes.
SIGHING
Oh, hold on. I would be
more than happy to shake you
in your chair, I must confess.
I'd rather stand if I can.
OK. Here's your stick.
Thank you.
Now, if I can turn round as well,
that would be splendid.
Terry, it's been a real joy
meeting you.
It's been an education
to meet you, sir.
And the same applies to you, madam.
Lovely to meet you. And I will give
you a little kiss.
In the French manner
or the English? Oh...!
Let's keep going -
there's a lot of Europe! Yes.
'It struck me that the reason
that Peter was going now,
'perhaps a little earlier
than he should,
'was in order to protect his wife.'
The law regarding assisted dying
is not entirely clear-cut.
If you do help somebody
to commit suicide...
..you may be prosecuted.
If your motive was love
or compassion, then this
will be taken into account.
However, it remains illegal.
OK, Rob?
'In mainland Europe,
they do things differently.'
'In Belgium, assisted death
has been legal since 2002.'
I'm going today
to see the widow of Hugo Claus,
a very popular author in Belgium.
'He chose an assisted death.
'He had Alzheimer's.'
INAUDIBLE
Hello. Hello. Hello. Veerle?
Nice to meet you, please come in.
Thank you very much indeed.
At a certain moment, my husband
realised that there was
something going wrong.
In the beginning,
he just tried to hide it... Yes.
..and I saw it,
but I pretended that I didn't.
You start making all the little
excuses, don't you? Yes, of course,
of course.
You say, "Everybody loses the car
keys..." Yes, yes.
..but you realise that not
everybody loses the car. Mm-hm.
What was it that gave him the clue
that something was wrong?
He started to mix up words.
And since words were his
core business, that frightened him.
And then I remember he said to me,
"If I have Alzheimer's, I will not
go on living till the bitter end -
"I will put an end to myself."
But he wanted
to write another book.
He said, "When I finish the book,
I will take the decision
"and I will die, but I first have
to finish the book."
If you're working on a book,
you'll keep going. Yes.
But he couldn't finish the book.
He had not the skill any more.
Were you with him when he died?
Yes. We went to the hospital.
And I remember I brought a very
good bottle of champagne with me
and I even brought some cigarettes,
and it's not allowed to smoke,
but I thought maybe
he wants have a last cigarette.
And when his cigarette was finished,
and we stopped talking,
he said,
"I think now I want to lie down."
I laid myself next to him
and I held him.
And I sung a song for him,
and he started singing with me
and...
..he died singing.
Yes.
I often think of that moment,
of course,
and it makes me sad, but,
in a way, I was glad for my husband.
Of course,
it was terrible, because I miss him.
It was so intense and so warm.
And how can people be against it?
I don't understand. Quite.
May I thank you very much
and give you a kiss?
I wish you...
luck. Thank you.
I think I'm going
to need a considerable amount. Yes.
I shall remember you.
I shall remember you. Thank you.
What an astonishing lady.
I can't tell you
how good it was to talk to her.
My wife will not object
to my ultimate decision.
I rather...
Yeah. I think that's probably
really all I can say
without repeating myself.
My wife is not a fan of assisted
dying and would rather not
talk about it on camera.
Like me, she is practical.
Like me, there are some things
about assisted dying
that she is nervous of.
'I think my wife would prefer
to look after me through
my illness until the very end.
'For many people,
an alternative to assisted death
is going into a hospice to die.
'I went to meet a man who, like
Peter, has motor neurone disease,
'but, unlike Peter, has chosen
to spend his days in a hospice.'
Hello, Mick!
Hello, fella. How you doing?
You are a taxi driver, aren't you?
Yeah. You were.
I still am, in me head.
I'm unbeatable. Can you still
drive around London in your head?
In me head, yeah. You tell
me where you want to go.
I'd like to go
to the Athenaeum Club, please.
Woolwich Road... Yeah.
..Greek Bridge,
Jamaica Road, Tower Bridge...
Coming from... Yeah.
..left down the Embankment... Right.
..on the left, Athenaeum Club.
That's right.
LAUGHTER
Do you have a lot
of happy memories?
Ah, I have a million happy memories.
I don't.
They're disappearing
at a reasonable rate.
I find myself thinking, "Well,
I'm not doing too bad right now."
You're doing great, same as me. I
think that's the biggest compliment,
is when people come up and say,
"Seven and a half year
you've had motor neurone?
Cor, you're looking good for that."
I'm a believer in assisted suicide.
I believe you should be allowed
if you think, and your
family think, it's right,
then you should be allowed to do it.
But I would say to people...
And I actually got in touch
with Switzerland,
before I came to the hospice. Right.
But then I looked at it
on a more positive side...
and I thought, "Well, let's
have another roll of the dice."
And I'm lucky, cos I had the hospice
to fall on. Right.
That's been my saviour. Right.
The hospice came to MY rescue.
So you've got to say to yourself,
"Yeah, come on then,
let's have some of that.
"Yeah, come on, let's see
what you can do to help me."
Well, when IS the end?
Will I know when the end is?
What would you say, then, Terry,
would be your close to the end?
Not being able to dictate any more,
not being able to be a writer
any more. Oh, for sure.
Not being able to communicate.
If someone decides they want to go,
then they should be allowed
to go peacefully and...
So do you think people don't die
peacefully in hospices?
I would not wish to burden my wife.
Your wife might want
to look after you.
She says she does, but I know...
Why don't you believe her?
No, no, no...
She says she does. I know she does.
But I think I know more about
Alzheimer's and some of the
things that happen than my wife.
'It occurs to me that the similarity
between Mick and Peter'
is that they've
made their own choice,
and I think that is important.
Everybody should have the choice.
But, tragically,
there are some people who feel
they have no choice at all.
'In Britain, if you wish
to die without being
in anyone else's care,
'then your only option'
is the good old-fashioned
do-it-yourself suicide.
As a journalist, I came across
suicide over and over again,
which I can heartily not
recommend to anybody,
having seen
the aftermath of quite a few.
'I went to meet a man who has
had to face the dark thoughts
'that can come with living with
a painful and incurable disease,
'in his case, multiple sclerosis.'
Hello? Hey, there.
You would be Andrew, I expect.
Terry. How are you?
Fine, thank you. Yourself?
Sorry, it's not the thing
you kind of expect -
Terry Pratchett just to wander
into your living room. It's...
How old are you, Andrew?
When did you get...
MS, isn't it? Yes. MS.
I started to have tiny symptoms
going back to the '90s,
but I was actually diagnosed
in 2003.
Most mornings, I get out of the bed
by falling out of bed.
Then I'll have to crawl
from room to room when I'm bad.
All I have to look forward to now
is things getting worse.
It's like walking down
an alley
that's getting...narrower
with no doors. It's sort of...
Less place to move around. Yeah.
I can't, and I don't want to,
live the life I've got now.
What other things
have you considered?
I have tried and I seem fairly
indestructible on that point.
You have tried to kill yourself,
yes? Yes.
How many times?
Er, two.
How? Right...
Once was I took three
months' worth of morphine tablets,
and that should have flattened
an elephant, initially.
But, apparently, no.
All I did is knock myself out
for five days.
I kind of opened my eyes, and the
very first thing that flashed across
my mind was,
"Oh, for...!"
It was just utter frustration.
It comes to the point
where I'm going to have
to rely on somebody else,
pay somebody else
to do it for me, and do it properly.
I would like to have
a death which is...
comfortable,
relatively...painless.
And I'm really of the opinion
that...
why shouldn't I?
Do you think you might go one day?
Er, yes.
I have an appointment. It's already
sorted. What, actually the day?
Yes, the day. Yeah.
When will you be travelling
to Dignitas?
I fly out on Sunday.
I go in there,
there's this...there's this kid.
I was astonished.
You know, I wish there was time
to get to know Andrew.
Very likeable person too.
For a stranger to turn up and say,
"No, no, no, you shouldn't
be doing this," I mean...
You can say, "Have you considered
the other options?" and so forth.
There comes a point
where you have to say,
"This is somebody's decision,
"and it's their decision,
"it doesn't mean anyone else
should make the same decision,
"but that is the decision
they want to make."
'A few days later, I discovered
that the couple I'd met,
'Peter and Christine, had also
booked flights to Switzerland
'in the very same week
as young Andrew.
'I decided to follow them,
'to find out about assisted dying
for myself.'
It was December,
just a few weeks before Christmas.
The car's running outside,
and we're just about to leave
and I'm feeling really...
I just feel really weird about it.
It just feels the weirdest thing -
to go somewhere to die.
It doesn't stack up.
'But they're nice guys and they're
going to Switzerland to die,
and it feels like the worst...
'it IS the worst thing in the
world and it feels so wrong.'
Ever since we began this odyssey...
..I tend to...
Woke up at seven in the morning...
'..and a head full of questions,
'which I hope to get answers for.'
"Dignitas was founded in 1998
by Ludwig A Minelli...
"a Swiss lawyer."
I didn't know that.
What was the term
you picked up that was used?
"21% of people receiving
assisted dying in Dignitas
"do not have
terminal or progressive illnesses
but rather a 'weariness of life'."
What do you do about someone
who is hellbent on wanting to die,
even if they appear
to be fit and well?
But who owns your life?
'Switzerland is the only country
in the world
'where foreigners
can go to be helped to die.'
Mr Minelli. Hello, Terry.
Nice to meet you.
It's nice to meet you.
At the office of...
'For roughly 10,000,
Mr Minelli's non-profit organisation
'will make all the arrangements
necessary for you to end your life.
'This includes cremation
'or transportation of the body
back home.
'In the past 12 years, they've
helped over 1,100 people to die.
'Even in Switzerland,
Minelli is a controversial figure.'
Before you went into the Hades
business, what did you do then?
I got acquainted with the European
Convention on Human Rights,
and this has changed my life.
And in Article 8, there is
the right to self-determination.
You mean an actual human right
to die?
An actual human right to die.
Even when they haven't a terminal
or progressive illness?
Even if it is just a weariness
of life? Yes. You know,
the right to self-determination
should include also the right
to make a decision
upon one's own end.
Well, here are the files
of our members.
The white files are the files
of members who are still living.
And...
about 70% of them
will never call again
after having got
the provisional green light.
Knowing that you can...
often means that you won't.
Yes.
To know that you can go
gives you strength.
'Mr Minelli took me on a drive
'20 minutes out of Zurich to
the apartment where you go to die.'
And there you have the Alps
with fresh snow.
'For many,
this is their final journey.'
I have also brought along fine tea,
because I thought you are Englishman
and would like to drink also tea.
I have 50 different teas at my home
and therefore I am a teologian,
and this is the only teology
which I accept.
'Swiss nationals may be helped
to die in their own homes...'
There we are.
'..but for us foreigners,
'this little blue house
is where you end your life.'
Cup of tea? That would be very
kind of you, thank you very much.
Well, this is one of the two rooms
where an accompaniment takes place.
Either in the bed
or there in the seat.
We have another room.
'If you come here you'll be met by
two Dignitas escorts -
'not doctors -
who guide you through the process.'
Sometimes it happens that we have
two different families here,
so that we need two rooms
for accompaniments.
And do the two families meet?
Normally not.
Because they are not finished
at the same time.
The person who wants to die
must make the last act
in their life
herself or himself.
No opposition, no depression.
This miserable life at the end
will have an end, finally.
Uh-huh.
And then we have our garden.
So it is a very peaceful place.
As much as it can be
on an industrial estate!
Yes, and following a decision
of the Swiss federal court,
we can only be in an industrial area
and not in a residential area.
I think I can see
their thinking for it.
Not in my back yard. Yes!
There is nothing special or unusual.
Something spinning along
in the factory next door.
People come in here and leave dead.
Minelli's belief that everyone
should have an unequivocal right
to an assisted death worries me
in an English kind of way.
I would not like to live in a world
where anyone could die
more or less at any time,
more or less on a whim.
Maybe there are
better ways of doing it.
'That evening I went to meet
Peter and his wife Christine,
who had just arrived in Zurich.'
Would you care to knock?
Is that a doorbell? Nope.
'Peter was about to be assessed
by a doctor hired by Dignitas.'
Hello. Good evening, hello.
Try to stand up again.
It's difficult alone, is it?
Yes, I really have to
get to the point of balance.
I'm afraid the floor
is rather slippery.
'The doctor had to make certain
that Peter was of sound mind,
'and that he understood
the process of drinking the poison
that would kill him.'
Have you ever felt depressed
during the time of your illness?
No, I'm not a depressed
sort of person.
I've, I've, I've...
..had mixed feelings about it,
of course,
but I wouldn't call it depression.
You have to drink
two different things.
I believe that's correct, yes.
I think one is to assist one
in retaining the second, because
it's an unpleasant-tasting...
Yes, that's true.
And your stomach would reject it
immediately,
as if it would know
it is no good for your health.
Yes, I see. Yes, I understand.
Usually within about 10-15 minutes
death comes in
because you stop breathing.
You have no oxygen.
Well, that sounds fine.
It's a wonderful release. Yes.
You should drink it quick
and in one go.
Don't start sipping.
If you start sipping
and put the glass down,
you will go to sleep
and it will not kill you.
You must drink the whole lot...
In one go. ..in one go. Right.
Could we have two glasses?
I will show you.
So you have a look.
Try to keep your mouth closed.
Have a look how you can do it.
Well, that's perfect.
That's perfect.
You will have no problem at all.
I would like you to think about it
again. Yes. Till tomorrow.
Take your time. Right.
You can always say no.
I understand that.
The other man I'd met in England,
young Andrew,
had already had his two assessments
by a doctor
and been given the green light.
'He was due to die the next day.'
And then it was time
to say goodbye to Andrew.
OK. I've composed myself,
and are you ready for this?
We're going to go and meet Andrew.
Yes, I think I'm absolutely
ready for Andrew.
OK. Let's go.
Let's go and say goodbye.
He's going now,
if I can put it like this,
because the going is good.
And he doesn't want to wait longer.
He shouldn't be dying now,
he shouldn't be forced to die now.
I feel for his family that he's
chosen a time just before Christmas.
It's such a blob in the diary.
That was his decision.
I think it's a bad one
for the people left behind.
He might be coming
to the end of HIS life,
but he has to give consideration
to those he's leaving behind.
I'd like to hear
what he has to say about that.
Yes, Rob, you be the one to ask him.
Hello. Hello.
Sir Terry, how are you?
I'm fine. And yourself?
Long day.
One day there will be protocols
for occasions like this.
What do you say?
There'll be a card you can get...
"Congratulations
on your forthcoming, er...death!"
The ironic thing I've found
over this past couple of days
is I've absolutely
fallen in love with Zurich.
You know you've got to go,
but there's the mountains,
so many nice things you see
and you think... Do I...?
Do I have to go? Argh.
You and me and Terry
are sitting here
and you're saying you like Zurich
and it's like, "Come on,
"let's all go off to CERN tomorrow,
let's go to the visitor's centre."
There's still so much life
left in you.
Why did you choose now?
I was having such big problems,
so quick,
there was a genuine fear
about the practicalities of,
if I don't do it soon
I won't be able to do it at all.
It's been difficult enough
for me to get this far,
and I'm lucky that
my folks came along.
And I didn't think they would.
I didn't feel as though I had the...
I couldn't ask anybody. That would
be a real awful thing to do to them,
ask them for the ultimate - "Do you
mind helping me to kill myself?"
This is the deadline
as far as you are concerned?
You're still going to go? Oh, yeah.
You're absolutely definite? Mm-hmm.
The die is cast.
What more can I say?
'Andrew told me that his mother
'was not very keen on his
proposed journey to Switzerland.
'I was surprised, therefore,
when I met her.'
We're here with him to support him.
So as a mother I am going
to swing like this next week.
Should I have torn up the passport?
You know, anything
in desperation to keep him.
But it's selfish. 'Tis a selfish
and not a loving thing to do.
I don't think like Andrew thinks
on this one.
I always think
tomorrow is another day.
It's just so stressful
and so hurtful for us all
to have to be in a country
that isn't home.
And I'm going to have to go home
tomorrow without my son.
And I shall, in due course,
apparently,
get some ashes delivered.
We'll just have to get through it
because we can't bear
to think of him lying in a bed,
in some of the conditions
we know he could possibly end up in.
It took me a long, long while
to realise
that the quality of life
that he has now is not acceptable.
Doesn't matter
what anybody else thinks.
It is their decision,
and I think it's their right.
You've probably done more good
with that speech
than I have in a long time.
It wasn't a speech.
It's what I feel here.
Well, exactly. It was what you feel.
It is what I feel.
Definitely what I feel.
He'll be very, very missed, and I'll
be very, very lonely without him.
We'll miss him, too.
Once again. On the other side.
Absolutely. Take care.
There is a young man
going to die today,
and so we thought we'd have a drink.
Here's the thing!
Met him last night and he gave me
a list of his favourite albums,
one of which he was
going to have played
as he passed away.
Nimrod is a good one.
MUSIC: "Nimrod" by Elgar
Andrew has gone, and I assume
has gone around about now.
MUSIC SWELLS
Crikey.
To Andrew.
Wish you were in England.
Here's to that.
'We went back to witness Peter's
second and final assessment,
'to see whether the doctor
would allow him to die.'
Hello!
Hello, Mr Smedley. Good morning
to you. I'm sorry to be so late.
When I see people
with these illnesses,
for me it is quite difficult to
decide, is it the right time to go.
If I say no,
you have to go home, you can't die.
Understood. Yes, I...
I understand what you're saying.
You are the only person who can
decide which is the right moment.
You're sure you want to do this?
Oh, yes. I've been always
quite convinced all the time.
Have you been listening
to yourself, or have you
been talking to your wife?
Oh, no, it's my own conclusions.
If he was listening to me,
he'd stay at home for Christmas.
It's amazing but it's much easier
for the one who can go
than for the ones who have to
stay behind. I understand that.
I obviously don't want him to go,
I feel that it's going to be
tough on me
but I think it's going to be
a great relief for you.
She would like you to wait. Yes.
Yes, she would.
I mean, Peter's been my other half
for 40 years
and it's going to be
a terrible wrench. Yes.
Peter seemed to have
made his decision,
but the choices for me
are still uncertain.
'My Alzheimer's complicates matters.
'I decided to ask the doctor
'whether one day she would ever
be able to help me.'
Alzheimer's is not painful,
or at least it's described
like that, but it seems to me...
Not painful for your body,
extremely painful for your mind.
The big problem with Alzheimer's
is that you feel reasonably OK
up to a certain point,
and then there's a tipping point.
If you wait too long you are past
the point that you have a clear mind,
that you can make up your mind
and you must have a clear mind.
Right now my mind is like steel.
Yes, but with Alzheimer's
you can have quite clear moments
and very complicated moments.
This is a big, big...
I fully understand,
but supposing somebody says,
"Should I be where I'm not
in a position to make a decision,
"I nevertheless wish to take
whatever the killing draught is."
He won't be able
to take it himself, will he?
No, he would have to be given it.
You have to inject it.
And you think no doctor
would do that?
I wouldn't do it.
I give the poison to human being.
He takes it and he decides
whether he wants to take it or not.
It's something different to inject
it and he cannot say what he wants.
I think
I wouldn't be able to do that.
'The problem with Alzheimer's is
that by the time that you are ready
'to ask for an assisted death,
you may not be able to speak.
'And so the Alzheimer's patient
would have to choose'
to die...earlier
than might really be necessary.
'I realise that in many ways
my situation is just like Peter's.
'I asked Peter and Christine
'if I could accompany them on
the following day, and they agreed.'
I think I am going to see a man die.
At his own request.
Good morning, Terry.
May I have your bag?
'This is a pleasant place.
'They are pleasant people.'
But what's going on here
isn't exactly medicine.
A winter day, a Swiss winter day.
Everything looks lovely.
Can you manage?
Yes. I think so.
I'm just tired.
Lift your legs up here. Right, yes.
Thank you.
INAUDIBLE CHA
Are you going to have tea
or coffee or anything?
I'm having coffee, darling.
Das heisst noch ein Tee.
Will er einen Kaffee?
Ja, ja, und einen Tee.
Sie will einen Kaffee?
Sie will einen Tee.
Peter, you don't mind
if I ask you several times -
are you sure you want to die today?
Yes, I'm sure. Yes, I'm sure.
Mmm-hmm. Yes.
I can't believe the calmness.
THEY CHUCKLE
Peter's chatting away
as if this is a tea party.
I feel I have very little choice,
really, in the grand design.
Unfortunately we have papers to fill
out. Of course. Yes, I understand.
Maybe want one for you too?
I'm sorry for all this paperwork,
but it's necessary.
That's all right,
of course I understand.
That's fine,
it all makes perfect good sense.
OK.
Shall I take the initial...?
Don't ask me.
It's your decision, darling. Yes.
I'll take it. It's just the timing.
I'm quite prepared to do it now.
When you're ready.
Yes. Yes, yes.
So I shall go and prepare the drops?
Yes, please.
I'll be back in a minute.
Thank you, Erika. You're welcome.
Right.
Right.
Right. Thank you.
The drops for the stomach. Yes?
Yes.
Right? Taste OK too?
Yes, the taste is not bad.
No cup of tea or something to drink?
No. I've had my drink now.
That'll do me.
THEY LAUGH
That was fairly innocuous,
I must say, that drink.
The next one is the...
The killer?
Oh, yes!
Take these with the pills.
Tell me which ones you like.
I don't think it will matter
a great deal. Praline?
The blues are always good.
This one here?
No, that one and that one.
Not the praline?
How long have we been here,
by the way?
I think you said
it was quarter past.
Ten minutes...it's 25. Oh.
Minutes past.
It's funny, strange how time
has different values
at different occasions.
Not that I'm in a hurry.
But I'm just...
Just interested to know
how long we've been...
Move my foot there, that's better.
Shall I be away? No.
No, I'd rather you...
Well, if you don't mind.
You shouldn't be away from him.
Well, if you really want to be away
from him. But, er...
No, I just didn't want to be
appearing to assist him.
No, I don't think
that would be the case.
Peter Lawrence Smedley,
are you sure that you want
to drink this medicament
with which
you will sleep
and die?
Yes, I'm quite sure
that's what I want to do.
I give you the medicament.
You're sure? I'm sure.
Thank you.
You can have chocolate now.
Oh. What a ghastly taste.
Worse than the one before this? Yes.
Well, yeah.
Bye-bye, Peter. Bye-bye, Erika.
Thank you for looking after me.
And I'd like to thank
everybody else.
They've been first class too.
Terry... Goodbye.
It's been a privilege.
My wife's very good at putting me
to sleep just by rubbing my hands.
Be strong, my darling. I will.
Just relax. Yup.
PETER GROANS
Water.
No. No water.
No... Water...
STUTTERY COUGHING
SNORING
He's sleeping now, very deep.
No pain at all.
He's snoring and sleeping very,
very deep. He feels unconsciousness,
and then afterwards
the breathing will stop,
and then the heart.
Are you all right, Terry?
I'm fine.
Well...for a given value of fine!
It's what he wanted.
He was ready to go. Yes.
Now you are allowed to cry.
Let it come out. It does you good.
Everything you kept inside until now,
let it out.
I don't think I can do that.
It's hard to believe
that I've seen a death.
I'm fine, yeah.
His wife is now bustling off
to organise something,
but I can totally understand why.
Can I say that I was extremely
impressed by how it was done.
I thought that was wonderful.
Thank you, Terry.
As for his wife,
makes me proud to be English.
LAUGHTER
This has been a happy event.
We've seen a man die peacefully,
more or less
in the arms of his wife.
Quite quietly,
so that we never...
were actually certain
exactly when he passed away.
And when one thinks
of all the other ways
a person can die,
and in what circumstances,
that would count, as they say,
as a result.
In this time, in this place,
there's something good
about the snow.
Yeah. It's the right kind of snow.
I was in the presence of
the bravest man I'd ever met.
I'm not certain I could do that.
I'm not certain
that my hand wouldn't shake.
But then I'm not certain
what I would really do
if I was really there.
I want to stay around
as long as I can,
to see assisted dying
done properly in the UK.
Well, if I die...
I don't mean if I die!
When I die - and all men die -
I would like to die
out in the sunshine.
Hmm.
I suppose sometimes
the sun shines in Switzerland.