The Last Right Marianne Thamm (beach read book .TXT) 📖

I am pleased that you got back safely. Sandy, I love you so very much and wish I could see you, but I have to conserve my energy for the “last haul”.

C

From: Craig Schonegevel

To: Sandy Coffey

Sent: Tuesday, 1 September 2009 8:45 AM*

Subject: thought of the day

Society has it all wrong. To have to take my own life in this horrid way is disgusting after all the suffering.

They say, “Oh well, he is not terminal”… Well in my opinion I am worse than terminal… I have been terminal for nearly 29 years and will remain to be badly affected by this disease and its complications.

I hope that in 100 years people may take a grain of consideration towards this topic that needs attention. I wish this end on no man who has suffered his entire life, but this end, even though terrible in nature, is a zillion times softer than all the brutality of NF to my body!

Lastly, I wish to quote a highly qualified hospice nurse, Theresa Stephany, who wrote: “It is insulting to assume that patients who request assisted suicide are clinically depressed. Most are just realistic. They know what lies ahead and they’d rather not continue with it.”

15Ethel: Go with My Blessing

When Craig decided to take his own life after Dignitas had not given him the go-ahead, the Schonegevels drove out to Humansdorp to tell Ethel.

BEFORE THAT DAY THAT HE CAME HERE, he called me early one morning.

I wrote it down as he spoke and he said, “Nana, I am lying in bed and thinking of you and all the tough times we have been through together. This disease is taking the life out of me. There is no end to it. The situation is clearly beyond prayer. I am meant to suffer. I love you and I miss you, goodbye.”

That was the first phone call.

Then later he told his mother and father he was going to take his life. And then they decided they must bring him out to tell me. They didn’t want to tell me.

I remember Neville coming here one day, and I asked him how Craig was. He said to me, “Mom, Craig’s door is closed and he writes and writes and writes. And God only knows what he is writing.”

They came and then Patsy and Neville went off for coffee. He was sitting here in the lounge.

He started like this. I wrote it down while he was speaking.

“Nana, the child you loved, and helped and nursed as much as you could, is growing weaker. There is no grace as far as my health goes. The doctors have just said there is another obstruction forming in the colon. My arm pains right down into the fingers. Life’s challenges are becoming unbearable.”

Because he hadn’t had success with them in Switzerland he wanted me to know that he was going to take his life. He said if Switzerland didn’t come up with it, he knew what he was going to do.

And I sobbed my heart out. He would stretch out and take my hand every time.

And he told me, “Nana, I know God will not refuse me entry at the gates of heaven. All I want is peace and that is all I want. People must respect and accept this decision, which is ultimately mine. And above all I do not want doctors and nurses battling to save my life, which is why I will never use a gun. I would never slash my veins, I would never do anything like that Nana. I will take tablets.”

And then he said because his mother couldn’t be with him when he had that op in London and his dad took her place, he so badly wanted to die in a dignified manner in Switzerland, lying in her arms with his father’s arms around the two of them.

Can you imagine as a granny, now hearing this?

But I am thankful they brought me into all of this and that I could have shared it with them.

And I said to him, “Craig, my darling, are you really sure?” I said, “You know your father is strong but you know your mother has suffered a lot and I worry that your mother will give in completely.”

And he said to me, “Nana, I know as far as the Church goes, people will condemn me. I don’t think you will. My mom has been through so much already, she will find a way.”

So, I said, “Craig, you know how much I love and respect you, and you are a grown-up man now. You are not that little boy any more and I shall respect whatever you do, I shall never criticise it.”

And I have remained true to my word.

So, I said to him, “Craig, you go with my blessing for what it is worth.”

He didn’t tell me when he would take his own life. We didn’t know what night it would be, but he told me it was going to be “soon”. This was in August.

Now we know that what he did was he saved all those tablets. He took all of them. And then he didn’t die.

I was in such a state. I don’t want to remember it all.

We all went to the house. It was terrible. My daughter Lynette came for a day and she left. She couldn’t handle it. I don’t blame her. Craig was very fond of her. After that first attempt he was so weak and he looked so bloated. And I would lie with him on the bed.

When Craig was small he used to call Lynette Ahlynette and it stuck and he told me to tell Ahlynette to come in now. She wrote him a beautiful poem.

It took a long time for him to get out of that bed. After a week he gradually picked up and was up and about in the house.

I remember lying next to him on the bed and he said to me, “Nana,