Editor’s note: This story was Huffington Post Personal July 12, 2024, the day the author took his own life in a clinic in Switzerland.
I am ending my life today in a clinic in Switzerland. I wrote this article three weeks ago. After decades of being trapped in a body that doesn’t function the same way as other bodies, I am finally ready to be free.
I have Severe Chemical Sensitivity (also known as MCS or Environmental Illness), which means my body reacts in extremely painful and incredibly debilitating ways to the world around me. Not only perfumes and colognes, but also most detergents, fabric softeners, shampoos, deodorants, lotions, sunscreens, smoke, household cleaners, and many other substances cause excruciating respiratory, neurological, and skin reactions.
I’ve been living with MCS for 40 years. It started out mild, but it’s gotten worse and worse, and now I’m sensitive to almost everything. I can’t take any medicine without side effects, even common medicines like Ibuprofen or Tylenol, and pain management is very difficult.
I also have fibromyalgia, which is a condition that not many people know about and many don’t believe actually exists, but it does exist and it’s debilitating – I can barely use my hands, my muscles are weak, I’m in pain at night and it’s difficult to sleep.
My muscle problems have also been going on for almost 40 years. I used to be very active. I loved playing sports like tennis when I was younger. But suddenly in my early 20s, I couldn’t hold a racket. I couldn’t hit the ball.
These two conditions prevent me from leaving the house or living anything resembling a “normal” life. I can’t even hug people anymore, which is really hard because I love hugs. I love to show affection and I can’t. I’m not a part of the world anymore.
It’s hard to put into words the pain I went through, but I’ve tried to make the best of my situation. For years I hoped that doctors would find something to give me some relief, but that never happened. There’s nothing you can do if you can’t take medicine.
Last summer I was diagnosed with breast cancer and it had spread to my lymph nodes. I told the doctors I didn’t want to have treatment. I knew that the anesthesia for the surgery could kill me, and even if I didn’t die on the operating table, I knew I would probably end up even sicker and in more pain than I already was. I couldn’t tolerate the chemotherapy the doctors recommended along with the surgery, and there was no way forward for me.
Within seconds of finding out I had breast cancer, I wanted to end my life. I said, “Thank God, I can go now,” because I knew that to qualify for “death with dignity” in the United States, or medical assisted dying, you have to be terminally ill. Suddenly, I was finally in a position to be free from suffering and to end my life in peace. At least, I thought I could. Someone gave me a golden ticket!
The surgeon said he would respect my choice, but the oncologist was not amenable to my plan. She wanted me to see a depression therapist. I told her, “I’m depressed because I’m in pain all the time, that’s what’s causing it.” When I asked her nurse to show me my records, she told me the oncologist “doesn’t support my decision.”
But it’s not her decision. It’s my decision.
I started looking into my options in the US and learned there is a lot of legal process as to who qualifies (I am not eligible at this point because I would have to wait until the cancer had eaten away at my body and getting to that point would be literal torture as I can’t take painkillers), and I would need to take end-of-life medication orally, which I know I can’t do because anything I take makes me puke. It doesn’t work.
I Continued research I found a non-profit clinic in Switzerland that gave the drug intravenously, accepted foreigners, and didn’t require you to be terminally ill to qualify. Luckily, because I am terminally ill, the clinic made the decision to approve me.
I filled out a detailed application asking questions about my condition, my mindset, my childhood, and provided my cancer records, an ultrasound scan showing that the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes, and a letter from my doctor that said, “I have been treating her for years. She has been through hell and I wholeheartedly support her decision.” The medical history the doctor compiled also listed all the issues I had, from chemical sensitivities to fibromyalgia to medication sensitivities.
The clinic charges $10,000, which seems like a lot, and it is, but if you are suffering like me, how much would you pay to end your suffering? I applied in early March and heard back a few weeks later. They said my application was approved and asked when I wanted to end my life. I told them I needed two months because I had a lot of things to do before I could leave. I wanted to leave right away to end the pain, but I had things to do and I wanted to say goodbye to my loved ones.
My husband and I built a new house a year ago, and I want to help get it ready before I leave. I want it to be a welcoming space for his friends and his next relationship, if he has one. That’s very important to me. I’m also in charge of all the paperwork, like bills, so I go through everything with my husband and make sure everything makes sense to him. I’ve always been good with those little details, but he’s not, so that’s a big concern for me. There’s so much to do. Transferring the ownership of our cars to him, closing our bank accounts, all the things that you have to do to live your life as a human being. But for me, that’s over now.
We have been married for 20 years. He has been such an amazing support. He has watched me suffer and taken care of me. It was so hard for him. I don’t want him to do that anymore. I know he is devastated. He has had a few breakdowns. But he is trying to hold himself together because he knows that is what I want. He never tells me not to do it.
He knows this is what’s best for me, for both of us. He will be sad because he will miss me, but I want him to move on and truly live. He will finally experience the freedom he hasn’t had for so long, and be able to go wherever he wants to go. eat Whatever he wants. Now, if he eats something that triggers me, even his breath triggers me. Spending all day worrying that something you’ve done might hurt the people you love is the wrong way to live.
My friends have also supported me, and although I have hidden a lot of my suffering from them because I didn’t want to burden them, they know how hard it has been for me and are happy that it’s almost over.
