This is the UK blog of a 34 year old man from Sussex who was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis last year, charting his attempts to get on with life, keep working, stay married and avoid being eaten by his Border Collie puppy.

Wednesday, 11 June 2008

The right to die

I don't want to die but a time may well (60% likelihood) come where I develop a progressive form of MS and head inexoribly downhill. When I can't see, can't move and can't touch, frankly, I don't want to be around. I'm not squeamish about dying, I'm, squeamish about needless suffering.

What this woman is doing is to ensure that when/if I die at a time and method of my own choosing is to ensure that my wife won't be prosecuted for saying goodbye and/or closing the door behind me, let alone for accompanying me to a more civilised nation which permits me to end my own suffering.

To hell with the Christians and other religious fanatics who'd condemn me to suffer, trapped in my own dilapidated shell of a body and/or mind, to satisfy their beliefs. Fuck them and fuck their non-existent God.

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