Peter Ferbrache: ‘It will be a weighty decision’

I recently saw the headlines in the Guernsey Press to the effect that Deputy St Pier is hoping to return to the States before the end of this year with proposals concerning assisted dying. I also saw the quotation from Deputy Trott given, in his personal capacity, about the support he might give for such proposals.

This has come at a poignant moment for me. When this letter is read in full I do not want anybody to think that I am trivialising the death of a human being in comparing it with an animal. That said, I do not hesitate for one moment to refer to the same in the context of what I am about to write.

If somebody had asked me about the issue of assisted dying and whether I would support it 10 or 15 years ago, I would unreservedly have been in support. However, if somebody had asked me, as they did effectively six years ago when the matter came before the States, I would have said no. Indeed, I spoke at the debate when Deputy St Pier brought the issue before the States in 2018, and I gave my reasons for not supporting the same at that time.

If there is a debate before the States later in the year, then my position may change. It will depend on a variety of factors.

The point I am making is that the considerations involved are far from easy. Populism would be very much in favour, I believe, of implementing a regime of assisted dying, but before it is approved serious consideration has to be given to the concerns and implications that will undoubtedly arise.

We have to face the reality, though, that many of our good and caring health professionals, whether doctors, nurses or otherwise, are governed by their UK professional bodies. They would have to comply with whatever their professional code of ethics and rules were, whatever we may decide. I am sure also that many of the other caring health professionals that serve us who possess qualifications from outside of the UK would equally have professional ethics and rules that they would have to follow. So it is not simply us giving approval to any proposals being brought forward and them being easily implemented.

There are many ethical and other considerations that have to be borne in mind. I fully appreciate and accept unreservedly that the intent is to give people dignity in death. It is to prevent unnecessary suffering. It is to bring an end to a life when there is very little purpose in continuing it.

Against that we have to be careful that all the safeguards are in place to make sure that people are not pressured, that the dignity of life and death is also respected, and that we do not de-humanise ourselves and our moral compass in implementing any such regime.

I can explain my own waxing and waning on this issue. My father died at the age of 53 in early 1982. He had been in a terrible physical condition. He had had heart attacks and strokes. His quality of life was nil. My mother was magnificent, as were the health professionals that assisted in his care. His death was not easy or pleasant. If somebody had asked me the day after my father’s death whether we should have an assisted dying regime, I would have put my hand up in affirmation without any reservation.

I move on, though, a number of years. My mother, who had been a widow for a long time, some years later moved to England to live near one of my sisters. My mother fell ill. She was in failing health for some time. I received a call immediately after Christmas 2017 from one of my sisters to say that Mum was in the Royal Shrewsbury Hospital and her time had come and I should come over to see her immediately. I was able to get a plane and was over there the next day. I spent the last three days of Mum’s life with her at the Royal Shrewsbury, together with my two surviving sisters and their families, and the son of my other sister, who had sadly died some years before.

Mum was unconscious for all of that time, save for a very few minutes when she muttered some comment which was barely intelligible.

I should also add at this time that the care she received as a National Health patient was magnificent. She was treated with care and dignity, despite the hospital being under great pressure.

People were waiting for treatment on trolleys and stretchers, and ambulances were queuing up outside. That did not stop the level of her care being truly wonderful.

Despite the fact that she was a National Health patient, she did have a small room at the back of one of the wards. We thus had privacy with Mum. We held her hand. We told her we loved her. We laughed and we cried as brother and sisters. We recounted many of the tales of Mum’s parenting of us. She had been the rock for our family whilst we were children.

Those three days before Mum sadly passed were very special indeed. Although the overwhelming emotion was one of sadness, it still gave us as a family time to say goodbye to our beloved mother. When she died, we hugged each other and said how much we loved her and how much we loved each other. We made it very clear, though, during those three days, to the medical staff that the last thing we ever wanted Mum to have in her very dying moments was suffering.

It was shortly after that the debate about assisted dying came before the States and I simply could not bring myself, having had those memories of those three days, the last three days of my mother’s life still fresh in my mind, to say that we should start introducing a regime that brought about the early death of a human being, even if it was advancing their death only by a short time.

We now come to the present day. As I said earlier, I do not want to trivialise this very important issue by making reference to the death of an animal. Thus I am not doing so when I make these comments.

Sadly, and somewhat earlier than anticipated, my dog called Charlie died on 27 February.

Charlie was a rescue dog. He was a Brittany spaniel. I have no idea what his age was. A lovely Guernsey lady and her partner, who now live in Portugal, spend much of their time and hard-earned resources in helping with the rescue of animals that have been abandoned. Charlie had been abandoned. He had been tied up to a fence in Portugal and left to die. When he was found he was less than half the body weight he should have been, and he was in a terrible physical state. Because of the generosity and kindness shown by the individuals I mentioned, he was saved.

Another friend of mine is a close friend of the lady in Portugal. She twisted my arm and persuaded me that I should give a home to Charlie. I will never be able to thank her enough for that.

He was with me for just under five years. He was such an important part of my life. He was always happy to see me. He was always loving. Everybody who met him loved him. He could not have had a better temperament. This was from an animal who had been seriously abused by human beings and left to die in deplorable circumstances. It did not stop him loving people and being a devoted and wonderful companion.

In recent months his health had faded, and he has always had a heart murmur ever since I have had him. I still thought, though, he had quite some years ahead of him. Just a few days before his death he developed a very hacking cough. I now know it was because his lungs were full of fluid. He was on medication. Sadly the medication was no longer working.

I was in court on the morning of 27 February. When I came out of court I received a message to the effect that the wonderful gentleman who takes him for walks (still using present tense in my mind) had contacted my relative and friend to say Charlie was in real distress. An appointment was thus made for him to see the vet at 4.30 that day. I live a very short distance from the vet at Route Isabelle. I thus just before 4.30 walked him down. Charlie had his usual number of wees and sniffs, but clearly was in some distress.

I was seen shortly after arrival by a vet who had not actually treated him before, but for whom I have nothing but praise for his professionalism, kindness and understanding. He looked at Charlie’s records and commented upon his medication. He said he just had to pop out to speak to a colleague for a few minutes, which he did, and then he returned.

He said he knew that the advice he was giving was not advice that I would want to hear. He told me effectively Charlie’s life was coming to a very quick end. He said there would be no point prolonging it. He did so, I stress again, in a very professional and caring way.

I made the decision to allow his life to be ended which, as I am writing this, still causes me such sadness, and my overwhelming emotion since that time has been one of utter sadness.

I signed the relevant forms and he was injected. I am not talking about figuratively but literally within a matter of a very few seconds Charlie was dead. I am not a religious person, but it seemed to me Charlie’s soul passed, and I almost saw it rise from his body. The vet checked and Charlie was gone. I hugged Charlie and told him I loved him. Arrangements were made for him to be cremated. I then walked the short distance home and spent the next several hours crying.

The point of that story is to echo a commonly heard comment which is that if we can do that for an animal (and Charlie was more than an animal to me), why could we not afford that dignity to a human being? That is the challenge that I will face and a decision that I will have to make if Deputy St Pier’s proposals come before the States later this year.

Just two days after Charlie’s death a very good friend of mine was reading to me with tears in his eyes the famous poem Epitaph To A Dog. I am going to quote just some of it:

‘In this spot I have deposited the remains of one who possessed beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity and all the virtues of man without his vices.’

If I had the eloquence of the great poet who wrote it, I would say that about Charlie.

So when I make the decision about assisted dying, all these thoughts will be with me. It will be a weighty decision, and when I come to cast my vote I will be thinking of Dad, Mum, and Charlie.