Via a “we’ll help ya die” “assisted suicide” law passed in Washington state this past November with the assistance of the Orwellian-named “Compassion & Choices”:
An assisted suicide group has announced it will compile a directory of physicians who will assist terminally ill patients seeking lethal medication prescriptions after a Washington state assisted suicide law takes effect on Thursday. The group expects a “cultural shift” in the state will encourage more doctors to assist in suicides.
The move follows the passage of Washington’s Initiative 1000, which won nearly 60 percent of the vote in the November 2008 election.
Under the law, two doctors must certify that the suicidal patient has a terminal condition and has six months or less to live. The patient must be a state resident and must make two oral requests 15 days apart and submit a written request witnessed by two people.
Physicians and pharmacists are not required to write or fill lethal prescriptions if they are opposed to doing so.
Some hospitals are opting out of participation, which prevents doctors from participating in assisted suicides on hospital property, the Associated Press reports.
The group Compassion & Choices, formerly known as the Hemlock Society, backed the ballot measure.
The group’s executive director Rob Miller told the Associated Press the group is now compiling a directory listing physicians who are not opting out of the law and pharmacies willing to fill lethal prescriptions for the suicidal terminally ill.
“Physicians don’t understand yet exactly how the law works,” Miller explained. “Whenever there’s lack of understanding, there tends to be some reluctance.”
Some reluctance, indeed – but the “compassionate” murderers hope to get the ball rolling soon and, after people are desensitized, just start whacking people all the time who have become elderly, ill or otherwise inconvenient. I recall with my late mother-in-law that the doctors told us six months before she died that she’d be dead in a few weeks…if the Hemlock people had been around, someone might have offed her, and we would have missed having her around for Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. God calls people home when they he, in his completely superior wisdom, knows they should go – for any one of us tiny, frail beings to try and figure out when we or anyone else should go is the acme of arrogance.
Where do we get these people who think that death is the answer? Don’t want the kid you’ve brought into the world? Kill him. Grandpa getting on in years and becoming a bit of a hassle to care for? Kill him. Having a bad time? Kill yourself.
Right now I’m in the process of caring for my father in what is very likely his last few months on Earth – this involves doing some rather graphic things which, in the normal course of events, one would never want to do…but, he’s my father and I’m glad to have him around for a while longer and he expresses joy that he is still here, even though he needs help even with some of the very basic tasks of daily living. These Hemlock-murderers would have me try to talk Dad into killing himself…or they would try to talk him into it, directly…explaining how his quality of life just isn’t “good enough”. A bunch of anti-human horsesh** is all that is. We’re all terminally ill, and have been since the moment of conception. We’re all gonna die – and, you know what?, you might die tomorrow, while in the pink of health…so why not kill yourself right away?
Last night I took the old man out for a little while – he played a little blackjack (he won $35, while they cleaned me out), had himself a scotch and soda, smoked a couple cigarettes and generally enjoyed himself. I had to use a wheel chair to get him in and out of the place and had to help him dress before going, and undress before he went to bed. I wouldn’t give that up for all the money in the world – and my Dad enjoyed being out; it is now a precious moment in my memory which I will carry with me to my grave. A comfort and a reminder, and a promise that one day we’ll all be back together again.
Kill him, or take him out for a scotch – you tell me, which was the better thing to do.
Blogs For Victory 