The End in
Two Acts
Allison had planned a ceremony downstairs for the family, nothing funereal, nothing fussy and nothing — David had insisted — that involved eating cake. “No cake!” David had told her, laughing. “Cake is what people eat at funeral parlors.
When David and Dr. Gideonse were alone, they talked about his decision to take the medication. David said he was getting weaker and weaker, not just going downhill but speeding downhill. Dr. Gideonse wanted him to know that he could change his mind, that right now, in this room, he could decide to put off taking the medication or never take it. David understood that, but he was ready. They talked through how the procedure would go, how he would feel, when he would fall asleep.
Then David picked up the end of his feeding tube and took out the plug. With the other hand he picked up the bottle of Nembutal, held up the tube and poured in the liquid. He placed the bottle back on his night table and poured a cup of water down the tube to make sure the medicine went down. He put the plug in tube and settled back on his pillows. He was calm and lucid. He talked to Dr. Gideonse about the gratitude he felt toward his family, about how much he loved them and was going to miss them.
Downstairs, Allison had started the ceremony. Each intentional death, Dr. Gideonse knew from experience, was different; each family was different. But all the deaths he had witnessed were ceremonial in some way, involving what Dr. Gideonse had come to think of as a “celebration of the end of dying.”