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Sean Davison made headlines when he was arrested in New Zealand for matricide. The story that emerged - how he helped his ailing mother to die - is the subject of his affecting book, Before We Say Goodbye. This second book, After We Said Goodbye, takes up the story from there: his arrest, trial and sentencing and the dramatic events that followed after this softspoken, unassuming man took the most fateful decision of his life; one that tore open family rifts and posed fundamental questions about life and his choices. With unwavering frankness, Davison faces his demons: Should he have done what he did? Ought he to have exposed his family? Was it the right thing to self-sensor the first edition of his book and conceal the fact that he had administered the morphine? And how should he come to terms with his sibling who had leaked the uncensored manuscript that lead to his arrest? It is estimated that huge numbers of people die through assisted suicide, and the author has become a vocal activist for the right to die in dignity.
Eighty-four years old and terminally ill with cancer, psychiatrist Pat Ferguson wants nothing more than for her life, which no longer brings her joy, to be over. But when her ailing body refuses to let go, she asks her son Sean to do the unthinkable: to help her to die. Before We Say Goodbye is Sean Davison's personal account of the months he spent with his mother before her death. Written as a diary, it candidly recounts Davison's emotional struggle during that time, the tension between members of their family and his ultimate decision to grant his mother's last request and end her suffering. This touching, honest and thought-provoking memoir will resonate not only with countless families who have found themselves in a similar position, but with all of us who may one day have to face that choice: a choice that, for Sean Davison, would come to have life-changing consequences.
Sean Davison, a professor of science at the University of the Western Cape, made headlines when he was arrested in New Zealand for matricide. The story that emerged—how he helped his ailing mother in Dunedin die—is the subject of his affecting book Before We Say Good-Bye. This second book, After We Said Good-Bye, takes up the story from there: his arrest, trial and sentencing to 5 months of house arrest. The dramatic events that followed after this soft-spoken, unassuming man took the most fateful decision of his life, tore open family rifts and posed fundamental questions about life and about his choices. With unwavering frankness, Davison faces his demons: Should he have done what he did? Ought he to have exposed his family? Was it the right thing to self-sensor his book and conceal the fact that he had administered the morphine? And how should he come to terms with his sibling who had leaked the uncensored manuscript that led to his arrest? It is estimated that huge numbers of people die through assisted suicide, and Davison has become a vocal activist for the right to die in dignity.
The concept of a “good death” has been debated since the beginning of civilization. In the 21st Century, longer lifespans and advances in medicine have resulted in new legislation regarding an individual’s “right to die.” The option to end one’s own life, when pain becomes intolerable or the quality of life is nonexistent, is an issue at the forefront of modern society. Who among us would trade places with a patient, dependent on machines and other people, for every aspect of their life? Who among us wouldn’t choose doctor-assisted death, if that option were available? During the last two decades, the states of Oregon, Washington, and Montana passed euthanasia legislation, and ...
What can human bones tell us of a person’s life, or even death? How can information from bones solve mysteries both modern and ancient? And what makes the study of skeletonised human remains so imperative in southern Africa? The answers to these and other questions are contained in Missing & Murdered, which lays bare the fascinating world of forensic anthropology. As the popularity of TV programmes such as the CSI trilogy and Silent Witness attests, people are fascinated by forensic science as a means of solving crimes, and in this book Alan G. Morris follows the pathway into forensics via the fields of anthropology and anatomy. He makes the practice of forensic anthropology, the skills base of skeletal biology and the study of archaeological skeletons hugely accessible to the layperson in a series of fascinating cases, from muti murders and political killings to the work of the Missing Persons Task Team. An informative, original and engrossing read from one intriguing chapter to the next.
Incurable disease is a natural phenomenon, inherent to the human condition. This book critically investigates the uniquely human experience of and response to illness and treatment, which affects the body, the mind, and the very core of human existence and identity. Uncertainties regarding the outcomes of laboratory and other investigations that aid in the diagnosis and assessment of disease exacerbate the apprehension inherent to the diagnosis of incurable disease. An excessively scientific approach may disregard the suffering patient. The book begins by analysing the nature, meaning and significance of hope in the context of disease, and goes on to reflect on the language of medicine and t...
This book presents an atheistic case against the legalization of assisted suicide. Critical of both sides of the argument, it questions the assumptions behind the discussion. Yuill shows that our attitudes towards suicide – not euthanasia – are most important to our attitudes towards assisted suicide.
A Good Way to Go considering self-determination, mercy & self-termination. tackles the difficult subjects of living, dying, suicide and euthanasia but concentrates on the care that can be given. The book is aimed at the general public not so much to be authoritative as provide original thoughts, and comprehensive enough to provide helpful material, to stimulate discussions, and provide an overview that might facilitate wholesome changes in our society. It is said to be well written and raising new and interesting points. The plea for a more merciful society begins with pastoral help to the dying, a better understanding of suicide, acceptance of self-termination, a look at ethics, health services and the law in regard to euthanasia. It is written from a Christian Western perspective because that is what has brought us to this place of confusion and anxiety about death and dying. It is important, that we take our bicultural and multicultural future very seriously in an ever increasing secular world and it would be audacious to speak on any other cultures behalf.
This book brings together scholarly contributions to question, model, and reshape translatology as the scientific discipline studying language translation. The chapters emphasize the hypothesis of a real domain of observability and objectivity through experimental and applied perspectives. The authors offer a balanced view of adequacy and coherence between the empirical and theoretical components of the book. The chapters include a good deal of individual language data from both source and target approaches, with a focus on typologically and culturally diverse spaces such as the African context. Domains of inquiry such as terminology and the cognitive dimension of the process exemplify the ability to create a dialogue between multidisciplinary intersections and translatological attempts of laws and generalizations.
How I Lost My Mother is a deeply felt account of the relationship between a mother and son, and an exploration of what care for the dying means in contemporary society The book is emotionally complex – funny, sad and angry – but above all, heartfelt and honest. It speaks boldly of challenges faced by all of us, challenges which are often not spoken about and hidden, but which deserve urgent attention. This is first and foremost a work of the heart, a reflection on what relationships mean and should mean. There is much in the book about relationships of care and exploitation in southern Africa, and about white Jewish identity in an African context. But despite the specific and absorbing references to places and contexts, the book offers a broader, more universal view. All parents of adult children, and all adults who have parents alive, or have lost their parents, will find much in this book to make them laugh, cry, think and feel.