What I said to the Enquiry

My Five Minutes Spoken Submission
to the Health Committee   4 pm 14 Oct 2016

Introduction

I am Dave Mullan, of Red Beach, retired Methodist Presbyter, 81.
I have advanced prostate cancer.

Just over a century ago, my great-grandfather, TW Attwood, was in a deputation to the new Parliament House. He would have argued a strong case—not like mine, which probably doesn’t break any new ground. But the family say he also had great passion. I hope something of that passion in a parliamentary office long ago will be apparent in this submission.—

Tetany Spasms

After an emergency surgery, I woke in the middle of the night with the most appalling pain seizing me. Every muscle between my knees and shoulders seemed to be trying to tug on the massive abdominal incision and tear it apart. It was like every muscle was cramping at once. I couldn’t move for the moments of the attack, couldn’t even breathe, or speak or cry out. I immediately realised this was not normal post-operative pain. Something in me was creating it. Only with a conscious effort of will was I able to unravel the muscles, like easing a possum skin off the nailed board on which it’s been stretched. It took time and the pain continued throughout.

Although I reported this problem to the surgical Rounds team at 8am — and in fact had an episode right in front of them while they stood round the bed — not one of them offered any comment. Subsequent conversations with the pain specialist failed to deal with ongoing attacks for nearly 48 hours.

One night a nurse really listened to me and I was prescribed a drug that stopped the attacks. But there was still no diagnosis. Months later, a very knowledgeable nurse friend suggested that I might have experienced tetany spasms. I surfed the net—as you do—and found a surgeon who had experienced the same very rare symptoms after his own operation and was appalled at the level of pain.

Prospect

If that kind of pain, even in short spasms, is what I might expect when this rather ordinary disease overtakes me some time, I don’t want it. If something like that is what broadcaster Andrew Denton described of his father’s agonising death, I don’t want it. From my own experience with the excruciating agony of those terrifying spasms, I don’t have any confidence that pain of that level will necessarily be palliated or even recognised. Nor do I believe for a moment that pain is a necessary part of the very ordinary business of dying in the modern age.

Reflection

Looking over my submission, I don’t wish to change much. But I hope you will review carefully the sections on—

·       the Slippery Slope and Change and their risks and effects;

·       the suggestion that much traditional religious thinking is not helpful in this debate in the context of a secular society;

·       my claim that medicine, Government, and some Christians are trying to have a bet each way;

·       my view that full agreement on the issue should not be expected

·       but providing for choice is a demonstrably fair and reasonable expectation for some terminal patients.

In every waiting room in the Health system I’ve seen posters encouraging me to become involved in my health decisions—until my last days when my wishes will suddenly expire like a twelve months’ old Prezzy Card. Please now take that further step and allow me a little simple responsibility in my dying. Please extend my personal choice to that life-defining moment.

“Looking Great”

All through my journey with prostate cancer people—becoming aware of my rising PSA said, “But, Dave, you’re looking great.”  They didn’t realise that it was hormone medication that was filling out my face so of course I looked good. Recalling the gaunt, emaciated faces of many terminal cancer patients, what I ask of you now is that after my death, anyone seeing me might say, “Gee, Dave, you’re looking great” — because you gave me the choice of dying with dignity.

And, oh yes, my great-grandfather’s petition to Parliament? The following year, exactly a century ago, Parliament granted their request which led to sweeping changes in the fruitgrowing industry. Tongue in cheek, I suggest that is a great precedent for your Committee today. You, also, could create significant change for our country by encouraging Parliament to permit me and other terminal patients to have some say in our end of life.

Dave Mullan

28/101 Red Beach Rd, Red Beach,  0932      +64 9 426 7562

Goodbye, Lecretia!

I have just head that Lecretia Seales died of natural causes a few hours ago. I feel personally and intensely bereaved by the loss of a lady I never met. 

Her bold approach to the High Court for a declaratory judgment that her general physician should be able to give her the means to end her life when she chose will now have no relevance for her. 

She didn't die for a "Cause". She just died. Indeed, she never said that she would necessarily take steps to end her own life. But she argued, persuasively, that if she were in intolerable suffering, she should have that right.

Now she is gone and her argument is ended. But perhaps the judgment that is yet to be delivered may drive a wedge into implacable parliamentary resistance to even discussing the matter.  

Right to Die?

A stunning piece appeared in the Kapiti Independent News today. Former Presbyterian Moderator John Murray wrote it and while his own view is unambiguous, he picks up the terrible irony of a hearing in a court used to judging alleged criminals rather than sensing the terrible truth as it affects a clearly innocent woman.

As last Monday approached I felt that all that would be said in the three or four days would not reveal anything that we did not already know. John, who sat in the public gallery, seems to have found that. But even that recital of what we have heard before has obviously moved him.   

He pleads that we engage seriously in the kind of informed debate that our parliamentarians are refusing to have on our behalf. I'm for that...