This article is the most heart-wrenching one I have read recently, and I want to share it with all of you who visit this blog. I have always been interested in the meaning of life and death, and the moment I read this article, my eyes were opened.
I have lived with the belief that life is a trial and that death is the greatest blessing God has given to humanity. This belief led me to ponder the agony and conflict of a person who, inevitably, had to choose that gift, as well as the pain of the family left behind. I share this with you, imagining the moments of decision that may come to all of us someday.
Original article:
https://www.koreadaily.com/article/20250308140945505
“A Stabbing Pain and an 8,770 km Flight”… A Daughter’s Farewell Diary After Sending Her Mother to Assisted Death
“I want to die quickly, please.”
Even on the last day of her life, terminal cancer patient Jo Soon-bok pleaded with her doctor. Her body trembled in pain caused by cancer that had spread from her breast to her bones, skin, and internal organs.
Born in 1944, Jo underwent assisted dying at the Dignitas clinic in Pfäffikon, Switzerland, on August 3, 2023. On the day before her death, she told her daughter who accompanied her on this journey, “I wish today were already tomorrow.” She desperately wanted to end the ‘stabbing pain, as if being pierced with knives’ as soon as possible.
Her daughter, a science fiction writer, wanted to preserve her mother’s story in writing, ensuring that she would never disappear from the world. Initially, she intended to write a novel about her mother’s dignified death in Switzerland. However, the reality of traveling 8,770 kilometers with a body too weak to move was far from ‘dignified.’ To honor her mother’s wish—”I hope other patients don’t have to suffer like I did, and that our country allows dignified death”—the daughter decided to write the story as it truly happened, without fictionalization.
Thus, writer Nam Yoo-ha’s essay I Wish Today Were Tomorrow was published earlier this year. In an interview at a café in Jongno-gu, Seoul, on the 5th, Nam shared in detail the process leading up to her mother’s assisted death. She said, “Deciding to die is never a simple issue.” She added, “No one deserves to suffer, and assisted dying is not about disregarding life but rather respecting it by providing a choice to end suffering.”
Q: The concept of assisted dying is unfamiliar in Korea. What led to this decision?
A: My mother had learned about assisted dying through the movie Me Before You and the documentary The Farewell. Even before cancer metastasized and caused her unbearable pain, she had said, “If an unexpected situation arises, I want to go to Switzerland.” Switzerland is the only country that allows foreigners to undergo assisted dying, and among the various clinics, Dignitas—founded in 1998—has the longest history, which is why we chose it.
Q: How did you come to accept your mother’s decision?
A: I couldn’t stop her. My mother was considering suicide to escape pain worse than death. One day, I found a large amount of compression bandages in her vanity drawer—she had thought about hanging herself. When she finally said, “Should we go to Switzerland?” I actually felt relieved. At least she wouldn’t have to die alone in despair. My mother, who loved life more than anyone else, desperately wanted not suicide but a dignified death.
Q: How did other family members react?
A: My father and older brother, after witnessing her suffering, couldn’t bring themselves to oppose her decision. Especially my father—he had watched her agony up close. He once said, “There wasn’t a single part of her body that was unharmed. If even one part had been okay, I would have begged her to stay.” Some relatives, who didn’t fully understand my mother’s condition, opposed her decision and refused to say their final goodbyes.
My mother’s body was like a patched-up doll. Her right breast had been removed due to cancer, her skin was covered in metastases, and her back—having undergone four surgeries for scoliosis—was a landscape of scars, bruises, and pain.
The Complicated Process of Applying for Assisted Dying
The process of applying for assisted dying was full of obstacles. The Dignitas clinic continuously requested clear documentation to ensure that there would be no legal issues regarding the applicant’s death. Writer Nam Yoo-ha said, “I exchanged a total of 66 emails with the clinic and contacted them countless times via WhatsApp.” In Korea, where assisted dying is illegal, they often had to hide the true purpose of documents when requesting them.
Q: How does one apply for assisted dying?
A: First, the applicant must pay a membership fee and an annual fee to become an official member of Dignitas. Then, they must prove that they are suffering from an incurable disease that causes uncontrollable pain in order to receive approval for assisted dying, known as a “Green Light.” To obtain this approval, three key documents must be submitted: English medical records, a life report, and a handwritten letter requesting assisted dying. These documents are only valid for six months from the date of issue, so it’s best to apply for the Green Light after deciding on a specific date for the procedure.
Q: What information needs to be included in the documents?
A: The medical records must include the diagnosis, treatment dates, details of treatments received, and the severity of the pain, along with the attending physician’s opinion. When asked about the purpose of the documents at the hospital, my mother told them they were for a foreign insurance agency. It was heartbreaking that she couldn’t be honest about such a life-altering decision. The life report was a biography focused on my mother’s medical history—more than a page long—which she wrote, and I translated into English. However, the sentence “I am depressed due to extreme pain” caused an issue. It was crucial to prove that this was a decision made solely by my mother, free from external influence or emotional distress. The clinic even requested confirmation that she had no history of depression.
Q: How did you feel when she finally received the Green Light?
A: I felt like I was leading my mother toward death, which was incredibly painful for me, but my mother was truly happy. In Switzerland, she had to meet with doctors twice before the procedure, and she practiced saying “I will die” in English repeatedly. When I snapped at her, telling her to stop, her expression completely changed. She suddenly said, “Let’s forget it. Let’s not go to Switzerland. Why should I, of all people, get such luxury?” I was surprised she used the word “luxury.”
“Let’s Move the Date Up”
After notifying Dignitas of her chosen death date, Nam’s mother stopped her cancer treatment. Without the medication, she became paralyzed from the waist down and rapidly weakened, ultimately moving her chosen date forward three times. When she finally asked, “I want to go to Switzerland as soon as possible—should we move it up?” they rescheduled, leaving them with only eight days before departure.
Q: How did you feel when the final date was set?
A: Since it was decided so abruptly, I was torn between hoping Dignitas would approve it and hoping they wouldn’t. Initially, we requested August 4, but that day wasn’t available, so we settled on August 3. If assisted dying were legal in Korea, I believe my mother could have lived a few more days. She wouldn’t have had to endure the stress of traveling such a long distance at an old age. I still wonder—if things had been different, could she have lived even a little longer?
Q: The journey to Switzerland was also difficult, wasn’t it?
A: It was nothing short of a struggle. After stopping chemotherapy, my mother developed paraplegia. Later, when I saw her CT scans, I realized that cancer had spread all around her spine. Using the tiny airplane restroom in a wheelchair was a nightmare. To prepare for any accidents, she wore an adult diaper, but shortly before landing, I asked her, “Don’t you need to go to the restroom?” She replied, “It’s okay, I already went a little.” I was furious.
Q: It must have felt like the dignity in a ‘dignified death’ was being stripped away.
A: Exactly. That’s why my mother desperately hoped that others wouldn’t have to suffer like she did. She wished that assisted dying would be legalized in Korea.
Final Days in Switzerland
Upon arriving in Switzerland, a representative from Dignitas visits the applicant’s hotel. They explain the procedures and assist in completing the necessary paperwork for assisted dying. Before the procedure, the attending doctor visits the hotel twice to ask the applicant, “Do you still wish to die?” and “Do you understand what happens when you take pentobarbital sodium (the euthanasia drug)?” These questions are meant to confirm that the decision is firm and made without external pressure.
Q: How did you spend your last 2 nights and 3 days in Switzerland with your mother?
A: I regret that I couldn’t take better care of her. It was difficult to find the foods she wanted, and since she was always meticulous about hygiene—even on her sickest days—she was frustrated that she couldn’t properly wash her hair. The hotel bathroom had no shower stall or floor drain, so she could only bathe inside the tub. Since she was paralyzed from the waist down, my father and I had to lift her, but we were afraid of slipping and causing an accident. If we had been in Korea, we wouldn’t have had to worry about such things.
Q: How did you feel on the way to the ‘Blue House’ (the euthanasia facility)?
A: My mind was in turmoil, and my heart felt like it was sinking. My mother, however, remained composed. My father picked some red berry-like fruits from a serviceberry tree near the hotel fence and gave them to her as a gift. When she left, those berries were the only thing she took with her.
Q: Did your mother leave any final words?
A: She said she wanted to stay in Switzerland. She had suffered too much pain in Korea and didn’t want to return. She wished to be free, soaring in a beautiful place with fresh air. She also insisted that my father and I not waste time staying in Switzerland after she passed just to scatter her ashes. Concerned about my father’s health, we returned home after asking the Dignitas staff to scatter her remains in a scenic location. They later sent us a video of the ceremony, and a year later, my father and I visited what we now call “Mom’s Hill.”
Q: What were your mother’s last moments like?
A: Normally, it takes about 2 to 5 minutes after ingesting the drug for breathing to stop, but my mother fell asleep so quickly that she couldn’t even respond when I said, “I love you.” Her face looked incredibly peaceful. The clinic had mentioned that if the drug was ingested rather than injected, families could have a few extra minutes to say goodbye, so I regret not having that moment. But my mother never wanted to have an IV needle inserted—not even at the very end.
The Burden Left Behind
For those left behind, assisted dying comes with its own burdens. They must decide how to inform others about the death, handle the official death registration, and even endure scrutiny over whether they abetted suicide.
Q: In Korea, euthanasia is illegal and could be considered aiding suicide.
A: Ending my mother’s suffering was the only thing that mattered. Neither my father nor I agreed to her assisted death—who would willingly let go of a loved one? We simply couldn’t stop her. She once said, “Being in pain isn’t a bad thing, right?” I think she was telling us not to feel guilty.
Q: Do you believe it was the right decision?
A: Ironically, through my mother, I realized that the ability to die when one wishes can actually bring hope to those who are still living.
Q: What procedures followed your mother’s passing?
A: Dignitas handled the necessary administrative processes, such as reporting the death to local authorities. About a month and a half later, I received her death certificate via email. Since Korean citizens undergoing assisted dying are rare, processing such cases can be complicated. Fifty-five days after my mother’s passing, I officially registered her death at the local community center. In the death report, I initially wrote only “Pfäffikon, Switzerland” as the location of death, but the clerk asked for a more specific site. I didn’t want to lie anymore, so instead of writing “hospital,” I simply wrote “institution.”
Two weeks later, I received another call asking for the exact location. When I hesitated, the clerk asked, “Was it euthanasia?” That was the moment I finally admitted, “Yes, it was.” Fortunately, I wasn’t reported.
Q: People may be curious about the costs.
A: The amount paid directly to the organization exceeded ₩18 million (about $13,500 USD). This covered the membership fee, annual dues, special membership fees for the “Green Light” approval, drug and funeral costs, and administrative fees.
But that wasn’t all. Since my mother had difficulty moving and my father was elderly, we booked business-class flights. And, as everyone knows, Switzerland is expensive. Including hotel stays and food expenses for our 5-day trip, we spent over ₩20 million ($15,000). In total, it cost around ₩40 million ($30,000). No wonder my mother called it a “waste of foreign currency.”
Q: The language barrier and financial burden seem significant.
A: Even with a translation app, communication was limited. Also, it’s rare for family members to assist in the process. However, since these institutions are typically nonprofit organizations, they waive fees if you can prove that you have no money in your bank account.
Q: If it were free, wouldn’t the threshold be too low?
A: From firsthand experience, I can say that without deep reflection on life and death, obtaining the Green Light is nearly impossible. The organization rigorously verifies every step. Only after passing this process can a person finally choose their own death.
Growing Support for Assisted Dying in Korea
A recent report by the Korea Institute for Health and Social Affairs revealed that 82% of Korean adults support legalizing assisted dying. In a survey conducted in April-May last year among 1,021 adults, the top reasons cited were:
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“Prolonging meaningless treatment is unnecessary” (41.2%)
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“Everyone has the right to decide their own death” (27.3%)
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“It can reduce the suffering of death” (19.0%)
Author Nam Yu-ha stated, “As Korea enters a super-aged society, it’s time for serious discussions on assisted dying. My mother’s wish—that people in pain should be able to die peacefully in their own country, surrounded by family—has now become my own wish.”
Thus, the writing of author Nam Yu-ha comes to an end.
Our lives, too, will eventually come to an end. If I remain in good health, that moment will likely come in 20 to 30 years.
Personally, I think it would be good if assisted dying were legalized in our country as well. However, at the same time, I have practical concerns—if I become old, sick, and unable to move, could such a choice be subtly forced upon me by society?
Even so, if I could preserve my dignity as a human being, and if that time were to come, I don’t think I would hesitate much to leave.
Of course, as a Christian, I would first seek God’s will.
If God tells me to stay longer, I will remain. If He calls me home, I will have no hesitation in returning.
Life is a continuous journey of suffering, and so I find myself praying the prayer of Gethsemane as often as a mealtime prayer.
“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not as I will, but as You will.”
Even when I reach the final stage of life… I will likely be praying this prayer.
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