Choosing Dignity: One Woman’s Journey Through Assisted Dying

Growing up during the 1980s and 1990s, I was captivated by the heated debates surrounding Jack Kevorkian, the Michigan physician who advocated for allowing terminally ill patients to decide when to end their suffering. Was he violating his medical oath to "do no harm," or was he providing compassionate relief, granting patients control over their final moments? At the time, Kevorkian’s support for physician-assisted death was seen as revolutionary, especially since he served prison time for helping numerous individuals.

Today, the concept of assisted dying has gained wider acceptance, with ten U.S. states and several Western countries enacting laws permitting it. However, these laws generally apply only to those with terminal illnesses.

Canada has expanded this approach. There, individuals experiencing intolerable suffering—not necessarily facing imminent death—may legally seek medical assistance in dying. A recent in-depth profile followed one woman, Paula Ritchie, through her decision to end her life this way. Her story offers a profound look at chronic pain, mental health struggles, and the ethical questions surrounding assisted death.

Paula was remarkably open about her life. When first contacted, she spoke at length about her application for medical assistance in dying after enduring a concussion that triggered relentless dizziness, insomnia, and pain. Her case was complex—marked by a combination of physical ailments, mental health challenges including bipolar disorder and depression, a history of childhood trauma, economic hardship, and profound loneliness. Her circumstances exemplify the concerns raised by critics about the reach of assisted dying laws.

Witnessing Paula’s final moments was deeply affecting. Present in the room, I sought to remain unobtrusive, sitting quietly at the foot of her bed. The experience was intense on multiple levels: as a journalist, I was documenting a significant event; as a fellow human, I was confronted with the raw reality of suffering and the weight of her choice. Our interaction was minimal, though she briefly grasped my hand before receiving her medication.