“Mr. Jones, there are some cases where the choice is obvious. The patient has an incurable illness. He’s in excruciating pain. He’s absolutely ready to die.”
“And what about me, Doctor?”
“Well, you could be considered borderline. But I’ve studied your file carefully, and I believe, on balance, you should sign the permission form and allow us to help you die.”
“Why? I’ve only been diagnosed with clinical depression.”
“But your disorder is profound.”
“Look, Doc, I was out of a job. I was broke. And my wife left me. But I’ve just had an interview with a company, and I think they’re ready to hire me. If I can make a steady living, my wife would probably be willing to come back. So I could be coming out of this funk.”
“It’s more than a funk, Mr. Jones. You have a history of episodes during which you were on the brink of committing suicide.”
“So why not just let me commit suicide, if that’s what I’m going to do?”
“Well, first of all, it’s against the law.”
“They’re going to sentence me to jail after I’m dead?”
“Then, there’s the problem of messiness. A suicide can be, well, extreme, depending on how the person chooses to kill himself.”
“You mean other people will have to, say, wipe up blood off the floor?”
“Here at our clinic, everything is organized. We’re ready for end of life. And we put you to sleep first. So you won’t feel the end.”
“Maybe I’d want to feel it.”
“That’s part of your illness. You see, depression isn’t something you get rid of by improving your life. It’s chronic. It’s based on a chemical imbalance in the brain.”
“What’s the imbalance?”
“Excuse me?”
“What’s the specific chemical imbalance?”
“That’s a very complex area. We’re still researching the indices.”
“In other words, you’re not sure.”
“Oh, we’re very sure. We’re just pursuing the details.”
“So generally speaking, you know something. But precisely, you’re in the dark.”
“Mr. Jones, I appreciate your doubts, but you see, the way you’re approaching this is part of your illness. You’re in effect putting yourself in a deeper hole.”
“Because I may not want you to kill me?”
“I’ve spoken with your psychiatrist. He tells me that whenever you see a chance for better circumstances in your life, you start to become more optimistic, but then when the latest solution eventually doesn’t work out to your satisfaction, you sink back into despair.”
“You know, Doc, what I say to my psychiatrist is supposed to be privileged and confidential. I don’t know why he’s talking to you about me.”
“I assure you, Mr. Jones, the new law on euthanasia contains a whole series of strict guidelines for medical professionals, and we’re within those guidelines.”
“I may contact a lawyer and sue you and my psychiatrist.”
“I wouldn’t advise that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’d lose. And that would stack up as another disappointment for you. It could trigger a genetic predisposition underlying your depression.”
“I thought you just said the basis of depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain.”
“I did. But behind that imbalance, there is are genetic flaws which create the imbalance in the first place.”
“You’ve proved that?”
“We’re constantly researching genes to come to an exact understanding.”
“Meaning you’re not sure. You don’t know. You’re speculating.”
“What we’re doing, Mr. Jones, is far from speculation.”
“How much will it cost me to let you kill me?”
“Nothing. Your insurance will pay. If they won’t, the State will pay.”
“The State will pay you to kill me?”
“Yes. And to be clear, we’re not killing you. We’re assisting you in carrying out your decision to die.”
“By killing me. Why are you trying to convince me to die?”