What about the slow misery of bereavement and lonely helplessness? Not long ago a friend of mine had the latest in a series of heart attacks. He had been an engineer and a gardener, with a keen sense of what was neat and fitting. He asked his doctor what he might still do in his garden. What consolation was the callously brash reply: "Sit and watch the weeds grow"?
Those of us who are old have one wish - for a swift, clean ending, with no medical havering about "lifesaving" treatments.
CECIL W SHARMAN