Assisted Dying for the Terminally Ill Bill [HL]

My Lords, this Bill has caused me to look at my own life and how other people perceive my life. I do not often discuss my condition because it is obvious and I do not want to be defined by it. Today I feel that I must talk about it—osteogenesis imperfecta. In plain English, this means that my bones were imperfect from the beginning. The consequence is that I have very brittle bones. I believe that the count of my fractures is now well over 600, with residual bone pain as an added bonus. About four years ago, before I came to your Lordships’ House, I had a neck injury that was incredibly painful. For several months I struggled trying various means of pain control. Because I am small and do not weigh very much, this can make pain control even more problematic. It was a difficult time for me. I am fortunate to have a fantastically supportive GP who worked incredibly hard to find the right medication for me. Too little and I could not function because of the pain, too much and I could not function because I was sedated. I live alone so I need to function to live. After trying several types of medication with no success, my GP phoned the local hospice and asked a palliative care doctor for advice. Within 24 hours my pain was under control and I was physically and mentally able to function. Indeed, I still need to take that medication. Thinking about those months of pain, I dread to think what decisions I might have made if a Bill like this had been passed previously. I have lost count of the number of times that I have been told by the medical profession, ““This could be the beginning of the end””. On all of those occasions it is feasible that I would have been classed as terminal under the structure of the Bill. To describe my condition many people would assume unbearable suffering. I would hate to be in a situation where I could be offered physician assisted suicide as a treatment option. I meet a lot of disabled people. Some are born with conditions, some develop conditions, others are injured in accidents. When a group of disabled people come together the subjects around disability and pain control always include an element of fear about how undervalued the lives of disabled people are and how vulnerable they feel if they need to go into hospital. We fear ““Do not resuscitate”” instructions being written into files without any discussion or consultation. Often we are not offered the most positive options. We are afraid of the consequences of this Bill. People who are injured or develop a condition often speak of how they assumed they would not, or could not, enjoy life anymore. This is when they are at their most vulnerable and death can seem the only solution for all concerned. It can take a long time for them to adapt to their new situation but, in my experience, the human spirit usually wins. People begin to value life and eventually enjoy the rest of their life.