Sign me up for a sarco

Earlier this week, I went to a wake and funeral for the husband of a friend. Vin was just 69,his death sudden and unexpected. As I told my friend Mary when we spoke at the wake, Vinnie died doing what he loved best: hanging with Mary, something he’d love doing since they met in law school. Vin and Mary had been married for 43 years. They had just met with a real estate agent to talk about selling the home where they’d raised their boys, and were on their way to lunch. Vinnie was a Villanova grad, so it had been  a good week. Nova had won the NCAA basketball championship on Monday night, and this was Wednesday

On the way back to Boston from the wake, we were talking about how much we all wanted to die like Vinnie. No pain, no ventilator, no last ditch/low probability chemo, no heroic measures, no time to panic, no fear.

Yes, we all want to die like Vinnie – just not at the age of 69.

It’s wonderful for the person who dies. Not so great for the ones left behind.

The good part of a more prolonged dying process is that you get to make your farewells and start preparing emotionally for the loss that’s to come. It’s just that there needs to be a happy medium.

When I used to hear about someone being diagnosed with cancer and dying two months later, I’d think that this was just awful. Having lost two loved ones to long, multi-year bouts with cancer, I’m not so sure that it actually is. Two months might well be that happy medium. You miss the hell-scape of a long illness, but you get to say your good-byes and make sure, as they say, that your affairs are in at least semi-order.

Of course, most of us don’t get a choice of how we wind things down and out. That is, unless at some point, we decide to take control.

And, yes, I’m a supporter of right to die/physician-assisted suicide initiatives (as long as there are plenty of safeguards in place). As medical technology improves, this becomes more and more of an issue. There’s a big difference between being artificially kept alive and living.

Physician Philip Nitschke is working on an answer to the question “how do we die with dignity?” And even taking it one step beyond, and focusing on a good death not just for the terminally ill. He’s the founder of a non-profit organization, Exit International, focused on the legalization of euthanasia – and on the well elderly being able to come up with an exit plan so that they’re ready when life takes a real turn for the worse.

Nitschke has been giving a lot of thought to this over the years:

Thinking in this context about what I wanted my own last day to be like, I began to envision a machine, device, invention, thing  ― I’m searching for terminology here that is not yet in our vocabulary ― that might elevate the spirit when the end is nigh.

“The Sarco,” as the capsule that I have co-designed with Dutch engineer Alex Bannink has been named, is my first tangible expression of enquiry for death to be much more than “just dignified.”

The Sarco is a 3D-printable machine that provides death by hypoxia, an environment  with low levels of oxygen. It can be transported wherever one chooses. Facing the awe of the Rockies? Overlooking the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean? Where you die is certainly an important factor.

Nice scenery at the end is hardly a new thought. The film “Soylent Green” showed the benefit of the peace that pretty pictures and a soothing soundtrack can bring when drifting away from this world. The thought that ground-breaking film left on the shelf, though, was the possibility of feeling not just dignity at the end, but of feeling euphoric. And why not?(Source: Huffington Post)

Well, I’d just as soon that the good doctor hadn’t brought “Soylent Green” up. First there’s the life-sustaining use of human remains, with its high yuck factor. Then there’s the alarming note that the movie takes place in a completely dystopic 2022. I don’t think that, even at the rate Scott Pruitt’s going, the environment will have gone to complete hell in the next four years. But, alas, we can’t completely rule out Dystopia 2022 either.

So just in case, sign me up for a Sarco:

A Sarco death is painless. There’s no suffocation, choking sensation or “air hunger” as the user breathes easily in a low-oxygen environment. The sensation is one of well-being and intoxication.

Here’s how it works: Potential users fill out an online test to gauge their mental fitness. If they pass, they receive an access code to a Sarco device that works for 24 hours. After the code is entered and an additional confirmation given, liquid nitrogen in the generator is released, rapidly bringing down the oxygen level in the capsule. Within a minute, the user loses consciousness; death comes a short time later.

A Sarco death is painless. There’s no suffocation, choking sensation or “air hunger” as the user breathes easily in a low-oxygen environment. The sensation is one of well-being and intoxication.

I will, of course, want to access my Sarco on the very day when life’s no longer worth living. But here’s the thing: what if I wait to long and miss the window of opportunity. By waiting just a few hours too long, I fear I’d be addled or physically unable to put in my access code.

Still, I like the idea of the Sarco. I envision myself talking it over with my nearest and dearest. We’d have a final glass of prosecco, eat ice cream, and tell a few stories. Hugs and kisses all round, and then we all walk together to my Sarco.

I want it to be in a beautiful place. Snail Trail in Provincetown, one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen, would work. But it would be a drag getting the Sarco in over the dunes. Let alone having to drag the Sarco back out with my dead weight in it.

Sky Road in Connemara? That’s a gorgeous spot. We could just have the driver pull over. The Irish do death pretty well. That might work.

I don’t imagine that the Red Sox organization would be particularly happy to have someone fade out during the seventh inning stretch.

Anyway, I hope I have a good long time to figure this all out.

Sure, when the time comes, I wouldn’t mind going like Vinnie. Just not quite yet. But it’s good to have a back up plan, and the Sarco may be mine.