As an emergency physician, I make agonising life or death decisions every day. When caring for a terminally-ill patient whose organs are failing, and who can’t recognise her own children, I work with colleagues and family members to decide whether to withdraw treatment. We do this when both evidence and experience suggest there is no hope left.
These decisions are incredibly sensitive. Yet compared to the intense controversy over Kim Leadbeater’s Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill, which Parliament will vote on tomorrow, the public doesn’t seem that concerned by end-of-life medical care. Critics of the Bill worry about doctors will be “playing God” by interfering in the workings of death. But trying to ensure our dying patients a dignified death is already part of the job. Not only do physicians determine the limits of care: we also choose when and whether to withdraw treatment. The question isn’t whether these decisions about death will be made, but how best to make them with dignity.
The Assisted Dying Bill would in fact reduce the role of doctors in the process of death. Currently, every significant end-of-life decision I make involves consultations with other physicians; discussions with family members; and respect for the patient’s wishes via an advance directive or “living will” that states a desire to refuse treatment — should he or she be unable to communicate. If it becomes law, the Bill would bolster these existing safeguards with additional layers of protection. And it would take decision-making out of the hands of medical professionals. Doctors would simply execute legally-sound protocols, as we currently do with Do Not Resuscitate (DNR) orders.
Let’s imagine how this would play out in practice. An adult patient with full mental capacity, who faces a terminal diagnosis or severe deterioration, and is in their final six months of life, could request an advance directive for assisted dying with the help of a doctor, who would ensure that the patient meets the eligibility criteria. This means, according to the Bill, that the person has a “clear, settled and informed wish to end their own life” and that they have come to the decision “voluntarily, without coercion or pressure”. If two doctors independently state that the eligibility criteria have been met, the patient may apply to the High Court for approval.
If the High Court approves the request, there would then be a 14-day reflection period (if the death is imminent, this would fall to 48 hours). After that, the applicant may make a second request for assistance to end their life. If their doctor still deems the patient eligible, a life-ending “approved substance” could be prescribed for self-administration. This is hardly a snap decision made in a moment of distress. At any point along the line, clinicians could decide that the criteria haven’t yet been met and defer action for review in three to six months’ time.
This multi-layered approach provides significantly more checks and balances than are in place for many current end-of-life decisions. When, for instance, I come across a terminally-ill patient with a perforated bowel at 3am in the emergency department, I am forced to make an immediate decision about the appropriate care limitations. While I always seek advice from my colleagues in such cases, I do not have much time. Every emergency physician can recall cases where treatment choices didn’t achieve the intended outcome — not due to negligence, or poor judgment, but simply because doctors are making complex decisions about the most intricate machine on Earth: the human body.