Suicide: I've been thinking...

Having witnessed my parents' protracted and bitter deaths of attrition--ignoble ends to noble lives--I conclude that life devoid of pleasure, purpose, or prospects is a life not worth living.

Even as I am busily killing time, Time is busy killing me.

I wonder how much longer I will be able to live independently, and I assert my choice not to live dependently.

An indistinct boundary often distinguishes extending life from prolonging death; best not to stray too close to the line.

If my baseline health were robust, I might be more interested in life extension; with my baseline compromised, I am less enthused.

Even as I begin to consider planning a Final Exit, I continue to take my daily multivitamin and to limit my sodium intake!

How dare the state usurp my most fundamental right--my Right to Self-determination--by interfering with the timing and mode of my own departure!

Even in hospitable jurisdictions, euthanasia is usually limited to severely-suffering terminally ill patients. Such strictures reflect archaic moral (religious) values, a pervasive societal fear of death, and a narcissistic over-valuation of human life (especially one's own). For a competent adult, the only criterion that should matter is: When enough is enough. And in that decision, for me, I am sole arbiter.

Though my impairment is substantial and distressing, I cannot vouch with any certainty that my underlying condition is "terminal" (I know only that following a recent exacerbation, there seems not much left to lose). More important in my calculus than the aggressivity of my disease are the intensity of my will to live and the extent of my endurance.

I hear every day of young people dying--young people with potential forever lost. I have no Bucket List (that matters), and scant cause for complaint.

Am I depressed? Sure, a bit. (Wouldn't you be?) But my convictions re: death and dying are well-reasoned and long-held, and I argue that my current emotions and attitudes are rational and appropriate to my circumstance.

Several dear old friends are devoutly religious--if they insist on trying to elicit a "death-bed conversion," I will have to exorcise them!

Self-deliverence is not an act but a process, the first step in which is to acknowledge and accept that you are (one way or another) going to die. All the rest is choreography.

Mens rea: intent matters

If you do good because of a promise or threat from god, are you a do-gooder or a pretender?

Like a fine wine? Not necessarily.

At 100, he's the oldest practicing physician in the U.S. He seems like a lovely gentleman, caring and compasssionate. But who's reviewing the quality of his work? (You might ask the same question of your own doctor, regardless of age.)