Anita Cameron: I Still Wouldn’t Want Assisted Suicide

This article was published by Not Dead Yet on September 4, 2024.

Anita Cameron (center)

By Anita Cameron
Directory of Minority Outreach, Not Dead Yet

Two weeks ago I went to the ER in extreme pain. Normally, I live with level ten pain. I’ve gotten used to it. In a flare, I’ve learned not to moan or cry out.

But this pain, which started out as a small annoyance, spread and went down my spine, then, into my chest and abdomen, became unbearable. I had to go to the ER.

I’m usually treated as a drug seeker when I go in, even though I’m allergic to all opioids and opiates. But blood tests showed cardiac enzymes in my blood and they admitted me.

While in hospital, I experienced a frightening event. My pain level was so high that it caused my blood pressure to skyrocket to 240/120. The pain was so bad that it was literally putting stress on my heart and my heart was about to give out. There were at least 10 doctors and nurses in the room, working to get my pain level, and thus, my blood pressure, down. In desperation, doctors decided to give me Dilaudid, a medication that I am allergic to, and Benadryl, than risk me having a heart attack.

I didn’t realize pain could do that to one’s body.

Even with the unrelenting pain that I have been going through, I still don’t want to die. I want my doctors to think outside the box, as they did that day. They tried other pain meds, which did nothing, then, made the decision to give me a pain medicine that I’m allergic to because they could deal with the allergic reaction; they could not deal with me having a heart attack.

If people are afraid of dying in pain, why not fight for better access to pain management and palliative care so that this won’t happen? This tells me that it’s not about dying in pain, it’s about the right to die, itself, and the proponents are so into themselves that they cannot recognize that assisted suicide laws put people in danger. The right to die becomes the duty to die, especially if you are from a marginalized community.

Now, having experienced pain that can take my life, I’m on a mission to keep that pain at bay. But, in doing so, I’m exposing myself to the racist practices of pain clinics that refuse to prescribe opioid and opiates to their patients. Black women, especially, are not given correct amounts of effective pain medications to manage our pain. I asked my doctor to indicate in my records that I live with pain, and what happened when the pain got too bad. It was explained to me that until I’m assigned a doctor, no one will see that information, meaning that as usual, because I’m Black, I’ll be treated as a drug seeker even though I’m allergic to almost everything. 

Why do assisted suicide proponents fight for assisted suicide while saying that they support palliative care and pain management? Because once again, it’s not about pain or the fear of it. It about the right to die. They use fear of pain as the catch, to bring you in because nobody wants to die in pain, but it’s really about them not wanting to be disabled because they feel that is undignified. They don’t want to live the life of being disabled, so they use pain as an excuse to push their right to die agenda.

Even as I was going through this incredible pain, I wasn’t thinking, “let me die”. I was thinking, “stop this pain so I don’t die”! I was literally thinking, “I don’t want assisted suicide, I want pain-free, or at least, manageable pain that can be addressed.”

When whole communities of marginalized people aren’t getting the healthcare we need, access to pain treatment that isn’t steeped in racism, and cardiac, diabetes, cancer and other treatments that aren’t steeped in racism, how can you support assisted suicide?

As this is normalized, meaning more and more states pass assisted suicide laws, we’re going to see a frightening trend of marginalized people requesting assisted suicide because they were “convinced” that it’s a good thing by family members or doctors.

As long as there are marginalized communities who deal with healthcare disparities, there is no place for assisted suicide anywhere in this country.

Previous articles related to Anita Cameron (Articles Link).

Meghan Schrader: Reflections on Juneteenth

Meghan Schrader

By Meghan Schrader 

Meghan is an autistic person who is an instructor at E4 - University of Texas (Austin) and an EPC-USA board member.

This week the country celebrated Juneteenth, a holiday marking the end of slavery in the United States. I thought it would be a good idea to do a post marking the holiday, discussing the history of disabled African American slaves, considering the experiences of disabled BIPOC people, discussing trends in intersectional justice advocacy, and discussing how the intersection of race and disability is relevant to efforts to oppose assisted suicide. I know that I cannot do as good a job at this as Not Dead Yet Minority Outreach Director Anita Cameron or Keith Jones from Krip Hop Nation, but I will do my best.

First I thought it would be instructive for me to share a summary of the parallels between ableism and racism from a disability studies scholar who has studied the issue extensively. In a 2011 Society of Disability Studies Conference Presentation entitled "Expanding Our Theoretical Toolbox: The Politics of Dis(Ability) in Black Feminist Scholarship" professor Sami Schalk distinguished ableism, or the privileging of able-bodiedness, from “disableism,” or the network of practices that discriminates against people with disabilities. Schalk asserted that:

“Racism is discrimination against people of color while white supremacy is the overvaluing whiteness. Sexism is discrimination again women and femininity while patriarchy is the systematic privileging of men and masculinity. So, going back to those lovely days of standardized testing, we could think that disableism is to ableism as racism is to white supremacy and sexism is to patriarchy."

Schalk has since written a book on racial and disability justice that can be purchased on Amazon. I think that Schalk’s summary is an instructive starting point for the EPC blog’s readers to think about the parallels between ableism and racism, and how they intersect.

One thing to note when celebrating Juneteenth is that most discussions of slavery, like most discussions of history, leave out the experiences of slaves with disabilities. I think many of the EPC’s blogs readers may be unaware that kidnapped Africans on slave ships who were found to have disabilities were thrown overboard as “defective merchandise.” Harriet Tubman’s disability isn’t typically addressed the way it needs to be. Growing up I remember learning that Tubman had a traumatic brain injury, but that injury wasn’t discussed in the context of what 19th century disabled people or disabled BIPOC people experienced as a group. Other scholars have noticed this problem as well. Disabled people are still struggling to make our communal history visible to the predominant culture, and I think it is reasonable to conclude that this invisibility is helping to drive popular support for assisted suicide. 

If a disenfranchised people group’s history is erased from the public consciousness, lack of historical knowledge makes it easier for people to tolerate killing members of that group, and harder for people to think about how doing that will intersect with expressions of systemic racism. Lack of attention to how the history of slavery intersects with the history of disabled people is bad for disabled people of all colors, and for BIPOC people of all abilities.

Two other issues that Juneteenth provides the opportunity for EPC blog readers to think about are current trends in how intersectional justice advocacy approaches discussions about disability and race, and how people advocating for disability justice can best empower BIPOC people with disabilities.

It may surprise some EPC blog readers to learn that BIPOC disability justice advocates have asked white disabled people to please avoid race and disability analogies. To many people these analogies seem fine; just a handy way of pointing out how bad ableism is. I think that these analogies are particularly enticing when one is interacting with a vocally anti-racist person who is a virulent ableist. And, in the spirit of honesty I must admit that I am often sorely tempted to continue doing exactly this, especially in regard to mainstream bioethics and the assisted suicide, which so many progressive-identifying people ignore or support. I find myself wanting to scream, “You mainstream progressives wouldn’t tolerate the Ku Klux Klan, why do you tolerate Peter Singer, who compares disabled people to chimpanzees and thinks it’s fine to rape us? You presumably wouldn’t tell an ablebodied BIPOC person to die by suicide, why do you think it’s acceptable to send that message to disabled people of all creeds and colors? WHY???

However, I’ve been trying to learn not to frame my criticisms of people’s hypocrisy in that particular way nowadays, because people like Anita Cameron have asked me to stop doing it. And I respect and admire Anita and these other disability justice leaders so much, that I’m trying to learn other ways of illustrating the moral perils of ableism. 

My friendships with intersectional justice advocates and my exposure to the field of disability studies has taught me that BIPOC people with disabilities have their own history and experiences that are distinct from what what a white disabled person like me might experience. The need to foreground the experiences of BIPOC disabled people is where the X hashtag #DisabilityTooWhite and Anita Cameron’s project We Were There Too: Blacks in The Disability Movement come from. My interactions with BIPOC and intersectional justice advocates have taught me that many of the BIPOC people killed by the police have disabilities, and that many BIPOC migrants and incarcerated BIPOC people have disabilities. As such, effective and equitable disability justice work accounts for these intersections. In my Special Education program at the University of Texas, I learned that educational researchers had developed evidence-based practices for instructing and assessing BIPOC children with disabilities, because instruction and testing that does not take disabled culturally and linguistically diverse students backgrounds into account can lead to poor learning outcomes for those students, or to those students being overdiagnosed or underdiagnosed with disabilities. Considering the specific needs and experiences of BIPOC people with disabilities is an important contribution to establishing disabled people’s equal human right to live, which is what anti-assisted suicide advocacy is all about.

So, what are the most direct ways that the intersection of ableism with racism is relevant to the issue of assisted suicide? According to a 2013 Pew Research poll, the majority of BIPOC people oppose assisted suicide, which makes sense, given that BIPOC people of all abilities have a history of being abused by the healthcare system. One can see the intersection of ableism and racism in the case of Michael Hickson, the quadriplegic black man who was forced to die in Texas during the COVID pandemic. Moreover, BIPOC people on Medicaid are more likely to be the target of futile care impositions, which provides a preview of how things would play out if people like Thaddeus Mason Pope get their way and the United States eventually allowing involuntary euthanasia. In considering the issue of race, disability and assisted suicide, it is also important to consider the issue of class. The fact that so many of the targets of futile care laws have been people of color on Medicaid indicates that while assisted suicide is supported by some middle and upper class BIPOC people, the practice would further oppress working class and disabled BIPOC people. All of these dynamics are why our Indigenous Canadian neighbors have generally come out strongly against that country’s “MAiD” program, and why Anita Cameron’s work organizing BIPOC opponents of assisted suicide is so important.

One of the most illustrative examples of the intersection between ableism and racism that I have come across is the work of Richard Hanania, a right wing conservative supporter of assisted suicide who used to be a fellow at the University of Texas’s conservative think tank the Salem Center. In a blog post entitled “Canadian Euthanasia As Moral Progress,” Hanania wrote:

“One could just as easily say that people who want to kill themselves after becoming disabled are seeing things more objectively, and when they accept their condition they’re coping and living under a kind of false consciousness. I’m pretty sure I would want to kill myself if I was ever paralyzed, and I grant it’s possible that maybe I would change my mind after a while. But I wouldn’t want to become reconciled to living with such a condition. The idea that I might accept it would for me be even more reason to commit suicide, lest I get used to accepting a defective version of myself.”

In response to this post, professor of Mental Health Law Isabel Grant tweeted, 

“How is this not hate speech?” 

Professor Trudo Lemmens tweeted back, 

“I thought the same. His vile suggestions about who is better off dead would definitely be treated as hate speech if you change who he is talking about. Yet some of our colleagues endorse this crap with enthusiastic fervor.”

Another X user called Brendan wrote, 

“This is honestly the most disgusting piece I’ve ever read on the topic of MAiD. I was half expecting the phrase “lebensunwertes leben” to show up somewhere in the piece.” 

Lemmens tweeted back, 

“It is there, just not in German, worded slightly differently, and adding “choice” to turn it into a liberal ideal.”

Exactly. Hanania’s pro euthanasia screed is hateful. He may as well republish the text of Life Unworthy of Life verbatim. And that’s not ok, even if Hanania doesn’t want to round unwilling disabled people of all creeds and colors up and gas them in vans.

Predictably, some of the leaders in the right to die movement thought that Hanania’s blog post was delightful. Canadian Queen of Expanding Euthanasia To Everything And Everyone Jocelyn Downie tweeted, 

“This thread. This piece on Substack. Antidotes to the recent waves of misinformation and flawed analysis of assisted dying in Canada.”

Downie was unaware of the rest of Hanania’s background. In 2023 The Huffington Post did an expose on Hanania that revealed that he had posted on white supremacist websites under a pseudonym, and he lost his post at UT. (In the tradition of disabled people being left out of social justice efforts, Hanania of course did not get in trouble for his retread of lebensunwertes leben, because apparently no one at the Huffington Post or UT thought to consider how that attitude affects BIPOC people with disabilities.) So, Downie wound up boosting the work of a white supremacist because the surrounding culture has enabled her to think that systemic ableism is fine. Hanania’s attitude towards disabled people of all colors and BIPOC people of all abilities elucidates what leading scholars of race and disability studies and the history of eugenics tells us: the legacies and ideologies of racism and ableism are intertwined like the roots of a tree. A government policy of helping disabled people die by suicide and the worst expressions of racism that disabled BIPOC people experience are part of the same ideological phylum: hating or ignoring the members of disenfranchised groups so much that you don’t mind if they die.

As we mark Juneteenth, I must admit I do not know exactly what solutions are the best for repairing the damage that both systemic racism and systemic ableism have done to the world, or how best to integrate anti-ableism with anti-racism. But, my relationships with people like Anita Cameron and others in the disability rights movement indicate to me that the process of doing that starts by compassionate listening and learning. It involves humility, open-mindedness and creativity. And integrating racial justice into disability rights advocacy involves a firm commitment to the ideal that no one should have to live in a world where they are so oppressed that they are encouraged to kill themselves. Marking the abolition of slavery should remind us that all people have an equal right to live with dignity and respect.

People with disabilities need help to live not to die.

This opinion was published by the New Hampshire Union Leader on February 26, 2024

Jules Good

By Jules Good

As New Hampshire considers legalizing assisted suicide, also referred to as medical aid in dying (MAID), I would like to draw attention to the potential impacts this bill could have on disabled and other marginalized residents.

I was 19 years old the second time I attempted to die by suicide. I had just been diagnosed with a chronic but not life-threatening illness, I had rapidly lost about 70% of my hearing in the middle of completing a music degree, and I was struggling with untreated anorexia that was taking a serious toll on my health.

At my intake appointment with a new therapist a few days after my attempt, I explained my situation and the hopelessness I was feeling. She nodded along, then looked me in the eyes and said something I will never forget:

“I would probably kill myself if I were you.”

She wasn’t the first person to say this to me as I started becoming more noticeably disabled, but she was probably the last person I expected to do so. Now that I work in disability policy, nothing surprises me. I hear stories from other disabled people about doctors pressuring them to sign DNRs because they are assumed to have a low quality of life due to their disability. I get messages on social media from people asking me how to advocate for appropriate pain management when their doctors don’t believe the amount of pain they’re in. I pore over story after story of people like Michael Hickson and Tinslee Lewis having treatment withdrawn, withheld, or threatened because of the pervasive view that it’s better to be dead than disabled.

This is why I am critical of policies that are biased toward ending the lives of people with significant disabilities rather than toward preserving them — policies like legally-assisted suicide.

Assisted suicide and the discussion around terminal illness in general has historically been framed as an issue for older adults. Young people aren’t “supposed to” have to think about death, yet adulthood for twenty-somethings like me continues to be shaped by a deadly pandemic, mass shootings, and systemic violence. We’ve heard story after story of perfectly healthy young people who got infected with COVID and are now permanently and significantly disabled.

One of my neighbors, a man in his early 30s, was a victim in a shooting that claimed the life of his 8-year-old son. He sustained permanent physical disabilities from the gunshot wound. Now more than ever, young people need to be invested in equitable treatment for disabled people, not only because we are human beings who deserve care, but also because the odds of younger people becoming disabled or caring for a disabled person are continually rising.

While proponents claim that assisted suicide is only for “terminally ill people who are about to die anyway,” they ignore the fact that many disabilities can become terminal if left untreated. In our for-profit healthcare system, denying or merely delaying care can make an otherwise manageable disability terminal. Medical racism and transphobia increase barriers to care, resulting in BIPOC and trans people reporting postponing or avoiding medical care due to discrimination.

Up to a quarter of people with chronic illnesses have chosen not to fulfill a prescription to manage their condition because of cost. The more vulnerable a person is, the more likely they are to be “steered” toward assisted suicide. It doesn’t take direct coercion to make this happen; a system where death seems like the best or only option for the most marginalized patients is not a system that needs a legal avenue for doctors to help us die.

As my colleague and prominent disability justice activist Anita Cameron has written, disabled people need “supports to live, not tools to die.” A policy of assisted suicide is not an avenue for bodily autonomy or choice; it is yet another tool that can be used to deny care to those who need it most.

Newmarket’s Jules Good is a disability policy professional and activist.

Assisted suicide, disability discrimination and racial disparities.

This message was sent out by Diane Coleman from Not Dead Yet on Febraury 12. 

On February 8, the Maryland Senate's Judicial Proceedings Committee held a public hearing on a proposed assisted suicide bill (SB0443). That morning prior to the hearing, the Patients Rights Action Fund organized a press conference of opponents. Anita Cameron represented Not Dead Yet and made the following compelling arguments against the bill.

Anita Cameron

Anita Cameron's Press Conference Remarks

I'm Anita Cameron, Director of Minority Outreach for Not Dead Yet, a national disability organization opposed to medical discrimination, healthcare rationing, euthanasia and assisted suicide. 

SB 0443 will put sick people, seniors and disabled people, especially, at risk due to the view of doctors that disabled people have a lower quality of life, therefore leading them to devalue our lives.

In 2021, Lisa Iezzoni, a professor of medicine at Harvard University, conducted a survey of 714 doctors around the country as part of a study. She found "82.4 percent reported that people with significant disability have worse quality of life than nondisabled people. Only 40.7 percent of physicians were very confident about their ability to provide the same quality of care to patients with disability, just 56.5 percent strongly agreed that they welcomed patients with disability into their practices, and 18.1 percent strongly agreed that the health care system often treats these patients unfairly."

Now add race and racial disparities in healthcare to this. Blacks, in particular, receive inferior health care compared to whites in the areas of cardiac care, diabetes, cancer and pain management. Doctors are more likely to write us off as terminal, making us eligible for assisted suicide.

COVID, in particular, has laid bare racial disparities and disability discrimination in healthcare that leads to medical rationing and futility decisions that can end a person's life. Michael Hickson's case is a clear case of discrimination against disabled people.

Michael Hickson was a 46-year-old Black man from Texas, the father of 5 children. Mr. Hickson was a quadriplegic, the result of a brain injury caused by a heart attack. He was placed in a nursing home, where he contracted COVID. He was sent to St. David Hospital, in Austin, Texas. However, due to his disability, the doctors decided not to treat him, stating that he had no quality of life, though family videos show him laughing and singing with his wife and children. He was placed in hospice and allowed to die.

I, too, have personal experience with racial discrimination and disparities in healthcare. The most blatant example of this was when I went to the emergency department last year in intractable pain. A white woman, also in pain, was next to me in the hallway because it was very busy that day. We had the same ER doctor caring for us. She, without asking, got Dilaudid, a potent pain medication, while I got a pat on the shoulder and sent home.

As long as disability discrimination and racial disparities in healthcare exist and as long our broken, profit-driven healthcare system limits people's access to treatment, services and supports, assisted suicide laws like SB 0443 have no place in Maryland.

Anita Cameron: Don’t Be Fooled, Assisted Suicide IS Suicide

The following article was published by Not Dead Yet on September 25, 2023.

By Anita Cameron

Suicide is devastating. Take it from someone who has lost dear friends to it. It’s an especially difficult death for families to deal with. Loved ones often feel guilt, wondering was there anything they could have done to prevent it. I, too, felt that horror and guilt after learning that a close friend had died by suicide hours after visiting me. 

September is National Suicide Prevention Month. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reports that suicide is a serious public health issue whose rates have increased approximately 36% between 2000–2021. It reports that suicide was responsible for 48,183 deaths in 2021.

Many resources exist to inform the public about suicide – what it is, it’s impact on the country and on certain communities, the signs to watch for and how to prevent it – but no resource addresses the state sanctioned suicide masquerading as health care, that proponents call medical aid in dying, but opponents call by its true name: assisted suicide. 

Assisted suicide is a practice legal in 10 states and the District of Columbia, where a doctor, or in some states, a physician assistant, writes a prescription for a lethal drug that terminally ill patients – those with six months or less, to live – fill and subsequently take. No doctor or witness is required to be present, so no one would know if the medication was purposely taken or if the person was coerced or convinced to do so. 

Proponents say that this is not suicide, but the Oxford Dictionary of English lists the definition of suicide as “the action of killing oneself intentionally.” Proponents refuse to call assisted suicide what it actually is, probably due to the stigma associated with suicide. One can call it all kinds of fancy terms that hide the truth, but don’t be fooled – assisted suicide IS suicide.

Though assisted suicide is supposedly only for those who are terminally ill, it’s hard to predict that, so doctors often make mistakes. There are countless stories of people living years or even decades beyond their doctors’ predictions. 

Assisted suicide creates a two-tiered system where younger, healthier folks expressing thoughts of harming themselves are more likely to get mental health treatment whether they want it or not, while disabled people, who often lack access to such care, are more likely to have suicidal feelings rationalized, so are less likely to receive mental health treatment. 

This is especially important when someone is diagnosed with a terminal illness. It’s normal to become depressed after such a diagnosis. Mental health counseling, along with other services and supports should be offered from the beginning and tailored to meet the person’s changing needs. 

Proponents rename assisted suicide as “aid in dying” so it sounds like end of life care. However, it is not. End of life care is all of the services and supports, including pain management, that a person needs to be as comfortable as possible while the dying process takes place naturally. Assisted suicide is just that – suicide. Death. No care. 

It’s said that access to housing, healthcare, clean water and food security is suicide prevention. Getting rid of assisted suicide as public policy is also suicide prevention.

California's assisted suicide deaths surge. People with disabilities steered to death.

Alex Schadenberg
Executive Director, Euthanasia Prevention Coalition

Article: California assisted suicide deaths increase by 63% in 2022. (Link)

James Reinl wrote an excellent article that was published in the Daily Mail on August 15 on the 63% surge in 2022 California assisted suicide deaths. Reinl reports on the data but he also received input from myself and several people with disabilities for his report. Reinl states:

Record numbers of people ended their lives in California last year in America's biggest doctor-assisted suicide program, after lawmakers made it easier for residents to get their hands on lethal drugs.

Last year, 1,270 people got fatal prescriptions under the state's End of Life Option Act (ELOA), and 853 people used them to end their lives, the California Department of Public Health said in its annual report.

That's a jump from 863 scripts and 522 deaths the previous year.

The surge in assisted suicides came after California lawmakers in 2021 backed a law that shortened from 15 days to 48 hours the time needed to apply for a cocktail of suicide drugs. That law took effect in January.

Matt Valliere

Matt Valliere, director of the Patients' Rights Action Fund, told Reinl:

'It's no wonder that the number of assisted suicides soared in the year after the California legislature effectively removed the original 15-day cooling-off period,'

'Most Medi-Cal patients cannot get a mental health consult in less than 72 hours and are not guaranteed palliative care, but now, they can get suicide drugs in 48 hours and the state will pay for it every time.'

I was questioned by Reinl on the possible under-reporting of assisted suicide in California:

Alex Schadenberg

Alex Schadenberg, director of the Euthanasia Prevention Coalition, warned that many US assisted-suicide programs have unreliable data, as not all doctors accurately report scripts and deaths back to the state health body.

In California last year, doctors wrote 294 prescriptions for which there was an 'unknown ingestion status,' says the 15-page report.

That could mean... that life-threatening drugs are sitting unused in a drawer, or that the patient used them to kill themselves and the death was not recorded.

'This self-reporting system makes it is impossible to know when a doctor does not send in a report or abuses the law,' said Schadenberg.

Reinl commented on the lawsuit that was filed in April to overturn the California Assisted Suicide Act:

Several campaign groups for disabled people earlier this year filed a lawsuit to declare California's ELOA 'unlawful and unconstitutional' because it violates the Americans with Disabilities Act.

In their suit, they complain about the bias they faced trying to get health care during the coronavirus pandemic and say the system is too quick to offer assisted suicides.

People with disabilities often struggle to get the medical care they need and, as a result, may be quick to seek assisted suicide as an option, lawyers in the case say.

Ingrid Tischer (left)

Reinl interviewed Ingrid Tischer and Diane Coleman, from Not Dead Yet, a group representing people with disabilities that are directly involved with the lawsuit:

Ingrid Tischer, one of the plaintiffs in the lawsuit, who lives with a form of muscular dystrophy, says doctors were unwilling to treat her properly when she contracted pneumonia during COVID-19.

'The law gets in your head. That's what happened to me,' says Tischer.

A non-disabled person is steered towards suicide prevention. And the disabled person is steered toward a suicide prescription.'

Diane Coleman

Diane Coleman, a woman with neuromuscular disabilities who has used a wheelchair since childhood, and now heads the national rights group Not Dead Yet, is also involved in the lawsuit.

'Assisted suicide is just one of the many symptoms of an ableist eugenics society that believes life with a disability is a fate worse than death,' she said.

Reinl also includes interviews with disability leaders, Brianna Hammond, John Kelly and Anita Cameron, and an interview with a man named Christopher, whose father died by assisted suicide in Oregon.

Seven states are debating the legalization of assisted suicide.

Alex Schadenberg
Executive Director, Euthanasia Prevention Coalition

Anita Cameron (center)

James Reinl, social affairs columnist for the Daily Mail, wrote an article that was published on February 11, 2023 concerning the assisted suicide debate in 7 US states. The article interviews several people with personal stories related to assisted suicide.

The story begins by interviewing Anita Cameron, who is a leader of the disability rights group, Not Dead Yet. Her mother Anita Bozeman was told, in 2009, that she had terminal lung cancer and her doctor hinted that assisted suicide would be an option. Bozeman, who said that she was 'too ornery to die' lived another 12 years and died at home in February 2021. Cameron told Reinl:

I'm just so thankful. We wouldn't have had 11 years and 10 months more of my mom, to see her grandkids get married and have kids,'

Cameron says that she is frightened as the 10 US states that have legalized assisted suicide are loosening their rules and may soon become like Canada. Reinl reported:

Meanwhile, some of the 10 states that already allow medical aid-in-dying (MAiD) are loosening their rules, by cutting wait times, letting nurses join doctors in prescribing lethal drugs, and by letting out-of-staters visit to end their lives.

Reinl reports that not only are the states that have legalized assisted suicide loosening their rules but some people who are dying by assisted suicide that don't technically qualify. Reinl writes:

Some Americans who receive fatal doses do not appear to meet the requirements.

Last year, Dr Jennifer Gaudiani, who treats eating disorders, stoked controversy by prescribing lethal doses to three patients with anorexia nervosa — a mental health and body image condition that often sees sufferers starve themselves.

One 36-year-old woman died after ingesting the drugs. Dr Gaudiani, who still practices, argued that anorexia, while not as severe as cancer, is brutally lethal for sufferers.

Still, even pro-MAiD groups criticized her for doling out drugs to folks with psychiatric illnesses.

Cases of diabetics also qualifying for assisted deaths have raised similar concerns. 

The concept of "dying with dignity" was also challenged by Reinl who wrote about how the assisted suicide drugs have a failure rate.

in Oregon in 2021, five MAiD patients vomited after ingesting pills, and one person passed out but later regained consciousness. 

Most people died within 30 minutes, but others took more than 100 hours to perish.

A report last year in the British Medical Bulletin found that it was not always a 'Hollywood-style peaceful and painless death,' citing the example of a Colorado cancer sufferer who took nine hours to die after much 'choking and coughing.'

Reidl reports that assisted suicide legalization bills are currently being debated in 7 states:

Sympathetic lawmakers have introduced MAiD bills this session in Arizona, Connecticut, Indiana, Massachusetts, New York, Rhode Island, and Virginia. Others may come to Delaware, Maryland, Minnesota and Nevada.

Further to that assisted suicide expansion bills are being debated in Hawaii, Washington state, Oregon and Vermont. Reidl explains that Oregon and Vermont have bills to remove their state assisted suicide residency requirement permitting assisted suicide nationally. Already one resident of Texas has died by assisted suicide in Oregon.

Reidl reports that Montana is debating a bill to once again prohibit assisted suicide and Virginia has already debated and defeated an assisted suicide legalization bill.

Reidl finishes his article by telling the stories of Brianna Hammon who lives with cerebral palsy, Christopher, whose dad died by assisted suicide, John Kelly who lives with quadriplegia after an accident in 1984, and Anita Cameron, whose mother rejected assisted suicide and lived another 12 years.

A Renewed Call for Black Folks: Join Us and Stop Assisted Suicide!

This article was published by the disability rights group, Not Dead Yet on January 27, 2020

By Anita Cameron

Some years ago, I wrote why Black folks should join the movement against physician assisted suicide. I spoke of racial disparities in healthcare, the tendency for us to be poor and our lives devalued and the efforts of Compassion and Choices to convince us that we’re being deprived of a basic right.

I spoke about why many Black folks feel that this is a privileged white folks issue that shouldn’t concern us because that isn’t our culture. Many of us are fighting against systemic racism, white supremacy and police violence and don’t have the energy to devote to something they feel doesn’t affect our community. 

But, that was before COVID-19. Now we see that it is ravaging communities of color, particularly Black, Indigenous and Latine communities. We’re witnessing and hearing stories of rampant medical discrimination against disabled people and Blacks, in particular.

By now, many of us have heard Michael Hickson’s story. He was the 46 year old Black disabled Texas man who was refused treatment for COVID-19 due to disability, placed in hospice and allowed to die. Dr. Susan Moore, a doctor in Indiana, contracted COVID-19 and suffered racist treatment while in the hospital. She made a video describing her treatment. She later died.

They are just the tip of the iceberg. There are many, many more Dr. Moores and Michael Hicksons.

What does this have to do with doctor assisted suicide? 

Compassion and Choices has been pushing for assisted suicide for those who get COVID-19 and pushing to do it through telemedicine visits.

They have made serious inroads into the Black community and have convinced Black nurses that doctor assisted suicide is a benefit that Blacks should take advantage of. There have been incremental increases of Blacks requesting assisted suicide. The more it gets normalized, especially in diverse states, the more those numbers will rise.

Blacks are at risk from assisted suicide laws because racial disparities in healthcare:

1. Lead to limited health choices and poorer health outcomes.
2. Make it more likely that doctors will “write off” patients as terminal.
3. Make it less likely that patients can afford life-saving treatment.
4. Make it less likely that patients will receive adequate pain treatment.

It is imperative that Blacks and Black organizations get involved in the movement against the passage of doctor assisted suicide laws, especially if you are sick, disabled, poor and seniors. Racial disparities in healthcare, as well as the tendency of doctors to devalue the lives of disabled, poor and elderly will push people into doctor assisted suicide. We can’t let this happen to our community.