My Dad, Bill.
My Dad was 93 years old when he began his process for Voluntary Assisted Dying. He passed away peacefully, in his own home, surrounded by his family at the age of 94.
Dad was an amazing, dedicated family man, who was in control of his own life for 90 plus years. It was when his aging body started to take that control away from him, he decided he could and would take control of his own death and do it ‘his way ’. The Voluntary Assisted Dying Legislation made this possible for him and I will be forever grateful.
Dad was born in Germany in 1929. When Hitler declared war and World War Two began, he was given no choice but to join the Reich (Hitler) Youth camps. His young childhood years were snatched from him, and this was where he spent most of his teenage years. During this time, he witnessed many atrocities, suffered hardships (both mentally and physically), adhered to strict, military discipline and racial indoctrination. He conformed to these rules otherwise he would have been signing his own death certificate.
After the war finished, Dad realised how much propaganda and brainwashing he’d been fed, and decided Germany held no future for him, so he moved to Australia. He met my mum at a dance at the Moonee Ponds Town Hall, and this night was start of their 64-year love story. They married in 1960 and went on to have 4 children, 3 girls and a boy. When Dad passed away, he also had 8 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren.
As we were growing up Dad involved himself in nearly everything us kids were doing; Little Athletics, School Council, Parents and Friends, and the Scouting Association, just to name a few. When we were young, Dad bought a caravan and we spent nearly every holiday in our caravan; sometimes at Dad’s favourite spot, Barmera or travelling to different destinations in Australia. Dad’s theory was, ‘a family that holidays together, stays together’, and we did. As we became adults and had our own children, we all bought on-site vans at Yarrawonga and the whole family holidayed together for 23 years. Even now, our children (who are now adults, some with children of their own), holiday in their caravans with us. It’s a great family affair; one of Dad’s great legacies.
Dad believed in strong discipline (this is what had been installed in him at an early age) and being responsible for your own health. His diet was very ‘mediterranean’ (including the red wine) and was a great believer in keeping as fit as your body allowed. Even 8 weeks before he died, he could be seen walking around the retirement home with his walking stick and holding on to fences to assist his balance. He would be constantly stopping, as he was finding breathing quite difficult and became puffed very quickly.
At 93 Dad had been diagnosed with Hairy-Cell Leukemia, had developed a Gastrointestinal Tumour and another leaky heart valve. He’d also had a catheter bag inserted in early 2023, as he felt he was restricted in being able to go out because he was constantly going to the toilet. This was due to the fluid tablets he was taking to help drain the fluid build-up in his lungs. When Dad was in his eighties, he’d already had one heart valve surgically repaired (which was now leaking, but not significantly). In his nineties, Dad’s cardiologist told him surgery to repair another leaky valve was not an option.
Dad’s health was progressively deteriorating. Dad had spent a fair amount of time in hospital with a lung infection and the day after he’d been released, he was raced back to the Royal Melbourne Hospital, unable to breathe. We thought we’d lost him. That morning, while lying on a bed in the emergency department, he grabbed both mine and my brother’s hands and pleaded with us to start the VAD process. Obviously, Dad had done his homework.
The process for Voluntary Assisted Dying is quite specific with certain criteria that must be met and ticked off on. Dad had no issues at all as his medical specialists all supported and respected his decision. I will mention a wonderful a group called Dying with Dignity who assist with this process. They visited Dad in hospital and while they were there, asked him all about his life. They were active listeners and made him feel very special.
I don’t need to go into the whole process of receiving the necessary medication and the whole procedure, only to mention when the staff from VAD came to Dad’s house, they were very gentle, caring and empathetic. Now it was up to Dad to nominate the day.
This happened on Saturday May 13, 2023. My brother rang to tell me, ‘Dad’s said today’s the day’. He hadn’t slept all night as he was having trouble breathing. I live in Gordon, near Ballarat, so the trip over to Sunbury was surreal, weird. I just kept thinking when I drove home later that day, Dad wouldn’t be with us, but I knew he was doing the right thing for himself. He was ultimately dying and there was no ‘joy’ in his life. I kept telling myself that no matter how hard this was for me, it wasn’t about me. It was about Dad and I respected and supported his decision. As did my whole family.
My husband and I were the last to arrive. All the family were there, including some of Dad’s grandchildren. He spoke to them individually and told them how proud he was of them, how he wished them the best for the future and how much he loved them. He did the same with those grandchildren he rang. He even said goodbye to one of his great-granddaughters, who replied quite innocently, ‘See you Pop’. He was such a brave, thoughtful and courageous man.
After the grandchildren left we all went for a walk outside in Dad’s garden. It was a beautiful sunny morning. Dad loved his garden and spent many enjoyable hours there. We took lots of photos until we adjourned inside to tell funny stories, relive childhood memories and to have that last glass of red wine with Dad. Dad loved a glass of red. He’d told us when it was time to for him to depart this world, he would do so holding Mum’s hand and having a glass of red. This is exactly what he did. This is exactly how he ended his life.
It’s hard to explain the next hour or so afterwards. Death is final. Finality is forever. It’s heartbreakingly sad and overwhelming. The loss of my Dad is immeasurable; I miss him every day; I miss walking in his house and saying ‘Morning Dad’. I miss seeing that cheeky grin looking up from the dining room table while reading his Herald Sun. I miss hearing his voice. I miss having a cappuccino or a glass of red wine with him. And there are moments that sneak up on you and you wish he was there. But at that moment in time when he passed, I felt peace, love and privilege. Peace because I knew he wasn’t suffering anymore. Dad’s passing had been pain-free for him. I felt love because of what my whole family, including Dad, had shared together and I felt privileged because Dad had chosen us to spend his last moments of his life with. How lucky we were.
The amendment that the Australian Labor Party are endorsing to allow terminally ill individuals, who are seeking to use Voluntary Assisted Dying, the opportunity to communicate with their medical practitioners through Telehealth, is vital. Dad had stopped driving when he was ninety years old, and because we all lived close by, we were able to drive him to all his medical appointments. I understand how some terminally ill people, for numerous reasons, might not have this luxury. Not allowing this reform to successfully change the policy would not only be discriminatory and unjust, but it would also put unnecessary added pressure on terminally ill patients and their loved ones. From a personal point of view, watching someone suffer from such an insipid illness is gut wrenching and the worst nightmare you could ever think of. ‘Voluntary Assisted Dying’, gives those seeking it, the opportunity to die painlessly and with dignity. We need to support all measures to ensure this is a possibility for those seeking it.
As a father, Dad was always teaching us, and the use of the Voluntary Assisted Dying legislation was no exception. Unbeknown to us, two years later my sister was diagnosed with a terminal, aggressive, uterine cancer. She also used VAD on her end-of-life journey, but that is not my story to tell.
