Andrew’s moving record of his decision to end the pain

I’m in considerable pain… and that’s why this trip to Switzerland is real and necessary. What I don’t want to do is wait till I’m knackered. In fact, what I don’t want to do is end up in hospital. There’s my plan. I don’t want bits of me to stop functioning. In other words, go out sort of on my feet.

There is a notion in our culture… that being ill and having a proper death are about being in bed, faculties gone, dribbling, can’t function any more – you’ve given it a good shot. If you check out before that, I’m not sure what you’re cheating but it’s probably ‘not done’; it’s not culturally acceptable any more.

I think part of this has grown up because of the vanity and the ambition of the biomedical industry. No one must die, everyone must fade and hang in there with tubes and drugs and resuscitation.

I don’t count it a noble or appropriate death... dribbling, can’t think, can’t speak, can’t move, in pain, lots of drugs. Why? Why is it more legitimate for me to wait until I’m in that condition? Than go with a measure of control...

I don’t want that, I don’t know anyone who does want that. People should be allowed, if there is a way, and frankly we shouldn’t have to pay thousands and thousands of pounds. People should be allowed and helped to go in a more civilised manner... If it goes the way I hope, I’ll be happy.

I don’t know who to tell. For instance my brothers, because I don’t want to upset them or have too long to think about the prospect of trying to talk me out of it. But if I don’t tell them it could be argued I’m not trusting them. It is, my friends, a dilemma, not an easy one.

I’m going to have to say goodbye to all this soon... My little doggies and, um, everything. But I haven’t wavered and, as I said before a couple of times, it’s my last big adventure and if it comes off I’ll be absolutely delighted.

I shall say goodnight, I hope I get back once more to say fare thee well to me and to you and, um, that is that for now.