Month: December 2021

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Apple now lets you pick someone to inherit your data when you die

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A feature included in Apple’s latest iPhone update is something you probably don’t want to think about: who gets access to your phone if (or should we say when?) you die.

The change to Apple’s “Digital Legacy” feature is included in iOS 15.2. Now, you can designate contacts who will have access to your accounts when you pass away.

Those loved ones will have access to your photos, text messages, notes, apps and more. Certain things like payment information and passwords won’t be accessible, says Apple.

You can designate up to five loved ones as legacy contacts. You’ll be given an access code that you should put with the rest of your estate planning information. Eventually, one of your legacy contacts can present that access code and a death certificate to Apple to obtain access to your accounts.

Legacy contacts verified by the company will have access to the account for three years. At that time, the account will be permanently deleted, Apple says.

Here’s how to designate a legacy contact:

  1. Go to Settings on your iPhone and click your name at the top.
  2. Tap “Password & Security,” then “Legacy Contact.”
  3. Designate up to five contacts as legacy contacts.
  4. Print and save the access code. Your contacts will need this and your death certificate to gain access.

Apple has more information about how to request access to a deceased loved one’s account here.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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‘I Would Give Anything to Hold Their Hands Again’

A husband and wife find a way to talk to their young sons about an unspeakable event.

By Jessica Alexander

It could have been any January day — the air crisp, the sky clear. But that morning in Tokyo, where we lived then, I awoke with the same heaviness I have felt on this day since meeting my husband, Andy, nearly eight years before.

He was already out for a jog.

I pulled our 4-year-old twin boys out of bed, opened a box of crayons and told them we were going to make daddy a card. They didn’t ask why, and I didn’t tell them that it was so he would feel our warmth and affection on this day, the anniversary of the worst day of his life. They drew colorful hearts, and I wrote “We Love You” in big letters.

When Andy returned, one of our boys ran to the door, arm outstretched, proudly handing him our creation.

“Thanks guys,” Andy said with a smile, his eyes asking me: What is this for?

“Because it’s today,” I said.

“What’s today?” he asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Today. You know — ”

It hit him: This was the day that his first wife and two sons died in the Haiti earthquake 10 years earlier. His body deflated, and his face, still bright from his run, crumpled.

Then the texts began: “Thinking about you.” “Sending love.” With every buzz of his phone, he would look at me with a pleading face, as if to say: “How could all these people remember, except me?”

Of course, he never forgets. He tells me they are with him every day; I imagine their memories like a heavy blanket wrapped around his heart, keeping him warm and grounded.

He rationalized that his slip of the mind that day honored who they were, because they wouldn’t want him to still tear up at the sound of children’s laughter, to still be vacillating between sorrow, anger and emptiness.

“Forgetting” also meant he was present in a way that was once unimaginable — waking up without dread, going for a carefree run, sitting down for toast and eggs with his family.

Our boys didn’t know about Andy’s past. He and I met two years after the earthquake when our work overlapped. In time, Andy and I fell in love, married and had twin sons. As the boys turned 3, then 4, I found myself searching online, “What is the right age to talk to children about death?”

I wondered when they would ask about the other two boys in framed photos on our bookshelves or recognize them on their grandmother’s refrigerator — the pictures that didn’t change with each new baseball season or dance recital like those of the other grandchildren. Those two faces never grow up.

When I looked at my sons — at their baby teeth smiles and wrists still pudgy with baby fat — I could only guess at who they would be years from now. Andy often wondered the same about his first boys. One recent August marked when the eldest, Evan, would have turned 18. Would he be headed off to college? How would his voice sound?

That August afternoon, we had just finished eating lunch next to a lake near our home when Andy turned to me and said, “I’m going to tell them.”

I felt anxious, not knowing how the boys would take it, but also reassured by Andy’s calm. We got up and started walking along the edge of the lake when Andy stopped and said, “Boys, I have something to tell you.”

They loved his stories and ran to him, each grabbing a hand.

“Many years ago,” he said, “when I was working in a country called Haiti, I lived with my two sons and their mom. My sons were just about your age — Baptiste was almost 5, and Evan was 7. Today is Evan’s birthday actually; he would have been 18. One day, there was a big earthquake.” He explained what an earthquake was, tectonic plates and all. “I was at work and Evan, Baptiste and their mom, Laurence, my wife before your mommy, were at home.”

When the shaking started, Andy explained, they couldn’t make it out of the building before it collapsed, and the three of them died.

I tensed to see if the boys would be scared or surprised, or if it would even register.

“What does collapse mean?” one asked.

“Look there’s a fish!” said the other, pointing.

Andy carefully answered all their questions, then took a deep breath and said, “Let’s go for a swim.”

We put on bathing suits and hopped into the cold water, the boys splashing behind rocks and laughing. They didn’t seem to absorb the gravity of the loss, or how brave their father was. It probably struck them as just another story.

Back home, we took the photos of Evan, Baptiste and Laurence from our shelves, introducing the boys to the faces they had always seen around the apartment. In the coming weeks, Andy shared details about them that I realized he had been carrying alone this whole time.

Soon Andy began working memories of his first family into our everyday lives. “Evan and Baptiste loved this book,” he would say before settling in for a bedtime story that he had read our boys countless times. Or as we gathered on the couch to watch a movie, he would tell us that this was Evan and Baptiste’s favorite.

“Did they get scared too?” one of the twins asked.

“Sure they did.”

One summer evening as we walked home from the park, the boys tugged excitedly at our hands, pulling us this way and that, until Andy pulled his hand away from their incessant yanking. Then he immediately flinched and put his hand out again, later saying to me, “I get so mad at myself for doing that.”

“Why?”

“Because I would give anything to hold their hands again.”

As in that instance, I sometimes overlook how his interactions with us are shaped by regret over things he wishes he had done differently, and his sorrow over things he wishes he still could do. But they are also shaped by the realization that today he has another chance.

I often think about Andy’s former wife — I am older than she was when she died at 40 — and how she was robbed of so much life. It shouldn’t have surprised me when the boys did the same about their half brothers.

After losing his first tooth, one of the twins asked, “Did Baptiste ever lose a tooth?” And they would tell their friends over lunch about how Evan pronounced butter “buller.” When they turned 5, they wanted to know if Baptiste ever had a 5th birthday party, and they began asking more often for details about what happened, trying to understand. But so much of what happened isn’t understandable.

“Why did your house break, Daddy?”

“Why were they at home and you weren’t?”

“Why didn’t your office fall down?”

These questions had haunted Andy for years, but when they come from the mouths of his innocently curious children, he tells me that he can face them more easily, which has helped relieve his lingering guilt. One day they may ask about his despair, and perhaps he will explain the many dimensions of his grief. For now, getting through the facts is enough.

One morning after one of the boys’ friends slept over, we all sat down for pancakes when the friend noticed a framed picture of Evan and Baptiste on a seesaw and said, “When were you there?”

“That’s not us,” one of the twins said. “That’s Daddy’s other sons, Evan and Baptiste. They died in the earthquake in Haiti when their building fell on them.”

“Oh, like when the bear got smushed by the rocks in that cartoon,” the friend said. He was only 5 — what other reference could he possibly have?

“It’s not a cartoon,” our son said. “It was real. And it’s not funny.”

I had thought the gravity was lost on him and his brother, but he understood. And for the first time, Andy didn’t have to take a deep breath and muster the strength to tell the story yet again. His son had done it for him.

This year, the night before the earthquake anniversary, Andy was feeling low, his attention elsewhere while cooking dinner.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” asked our older twin.

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of the earthquake,” he said. “So I’m thinking of Baptiste, Evan and Laurence.”

“Tomorrow there will be an earthquake?”

“No baby, tomorrow’s just the anniversary. And I’m sad.”

“Oh,” our son said, then quickly added, “But lucky too, Daddy.”

Andy looked up. “Lucky?”

“Lucky you found us.” His voice was high and his head tilted, as if asking.

Andy looked at me with disbelief. Our boy might not have understood the meaning of an anniversary, but he could comprehend the idea of renewal.

Andy scooped him up in his arms. “Yes, my boy,” he said. “I am the luckiest.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Pandemic Ignites Millennials to Focus on End-of-Life Planning

Group portrait of a creative business team standing outdoors, three quarter length, close up

by Jackie Lam

As the coronavirus pandemic increased anxiety and upended many lives, it led U.S. millennials to get more serious about end-of-life planning.

According to new research from 1Password, a digital security and privacy platform based in Toronto, and digital estate planning platform partners Trust & Will and Willful, 72% of U.S. millennials (ages 25 to 40) with wills created them or updated them in the past year.

In addition, 34% of these millennials have talked about their digital assets with their parents in the past year.

More than two-thirds of millennials don’t have a will

While the pandemic brought greater focus to end-of-life planning among millennials, they’re still largely unprepared. According to the 1Password findings, 68% of millennials don’t have a will.

In turn, respondents estimate descendants would lose access to an average of $22,500. Plus, only 38% have clarity over who should handle their digital assets after they die.

Among those who do have a will, here’s what sparked it:

  • COVID-19 crisis (55%)
  • Having a child (36%)
  • Death of a celebrity or public figure (22%)
  • Buying a house (17%)

With a digital handover, the top priority for respondents is giving their executor login credentials to banking and financial accounts (67%). Interestingly, 57% of millennial respondents say granting access to social media accounts is more important than giving access to email, subscription and e-commerce accounts.

The pandemic provided a wake-up call for millennials and their end-of-life planning, no doubt. But there are some areas of estate planning that are murky. And it’s not just about the respondents themselves.

The survey finds 51% of millennials will be responsible for the execution of their parents’ wills. However, just 36% have access to their parents’ online account passwords.

While we already noted that 34% of respondents say they’ve chatted with their parents about their digital assets in the past year, 52% have never discussed it with their parents or can’t recall the conversation. Among those who have handled the execution of wills, 63% say it was more challenging than expected to access accounts after a death.

Millennials use old-fashioned ways to store documents

Old-school ways of handling important documents reign supreme among the millennial crowd. More than 4 in 5 (81%) report keeping paperwork — think birth certificate — in a physical location like a safe deposit box, safe or filing cabinet.

They share their passwords mainly by way of a written list (41%), then verbally (39%) and digitally (25%), such as through email, Google Docs, the cloud or a PDF.

As for storing passwords, 51% say they store their passwords by memory, while 25% keep them on a piece of paper. One in 5 (20%) millennials say they use a password manager.

The report also found that 48% of millennials trust their significant others the most for emergency access to their passwords, more than twice as much as their second choice — their parents (20%).

If you’re prioritizing end-of-life planning, decide who will be granted access to your digital accounts and online passwords and list out all your debts. This might include:

If you need help managing credit card debt, consider working with a financial counselor or credit counseling agency.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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How I (Barely) Survived My Sister’s Death

By Zander Sprague

There are many things we expect to experience in our lives, but the death of a sibling is not one of them.

When it comes to realizing what grief feels like, it certainly wasn’t something I thought I would deal with in my lifetime, but low and behold, in December of 1996 I lost my older sister and immediately became part of a club of sibling survivors.

Obviously, being new to the club, I didn’t understand the stages of grief, let alone how to grieve, and everything else that was involved.

First and foremost, losing a sibling is a very lonely experience.

A lot of people didn’t know what to say to me. People didn’t ask how I was doing. They would ask how my parents were doing, which I understood, but no one asked how I was.

It got me thinking: Was my loss less significant than my parents’ loss? I’m not trying to compare the two, but my loss was significant.

I was close to my sister just as other people are close to their brothers and sisters. Losing them is having a chapter end prematurely.

That person will never see you grow up. He/she won’t see you married or meet your children. Your children will never get to know that brother or sister, that aunt or uncle.

You can talk about them — and I certainly talk about my sister Lucy — but my girls will never truly know my sister because she is not around.

Another aspect of being a sibling survivor is that the world doesn’t acknowledge our loss.

If you are a widow or if your parents die, many people will come around and share that experience, but not a lot of people are out there talking about losing their siblings.

It’s a feeling of being all by yourself, that there is no one else that you can talk to.

Other people I have talked to that are sibling survivors have expressed they felt guilty when talking to their parents about their own loss, so they would push that down because they wanted to be strong for their parents.

I certainly had that same experience. Yet, I wanted very much for my loss to be acknowledged. I wanted to be able to grieve. I grieved, but it was hard because I didn’t want my parents to see me sad.

In the years that have gone by, I talked to my parents about my feelings and it’s been very helpful. Hopefully, if you’ve lost a brother or sister, you can talk to your parents in the years to come.

I’m on a mission to give a voice to sibling survivors so we aren’t all by ourselves, so we can find each other if we want to talk.

If we want support, there is support. It is helpful knowing other people who know exactly what you’re going through.

Perhaps there are people who are slightly further down the road than you are who can look back and say, “Yes, I remember the one-year anniversary or the birthday or Christmas or other major events,” and give suggestions on how they got through it. And perhaps that will help.

I want to create a dialogue, so whether you’re a sibling survivor, or the friend or work colleague of a sibling survivor, you have the words and the knowledge to properly acknowledge the loss, and help yourself or a sibling survivor to continue on with life and live it fully.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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A good death: Julie McFadden’s message

McFadden relates that the dying often call out to parents, and report seeing beloved relatives who’ve already passed away, waiting to lead them onward. She has no idea why.

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Have you ever witnessed someone peacefully die? Was it a trauma, a privilege, an intrusion, a wonder? A palliative nurse from Los Angeles has gone viral with her TikTok videos explaining the mysterious process. Julie McFadden’s message:Trust the body. It knows what it’s doing, just as it knows what it’s doing in childbirth. Do not be afraid of what’s unfurling before you so mysteriously and irreversibly – and predictably.

Her aim is to normalise a shielded process. She says death is not, normally, painful; it’s a “peaceful and natural” procedure. “Our bodies are truly built to survive birth, for the most part, and they’re built to die. When someone is in a hospice dying a natural death, the body knows.” She explains: “[It] will start kicking in its regular mechanisms that are built in when someone is getting near death. It will stop eating and drinking for the most part, and sleeping a lot more.”

McFadden believes the less intervention the better, and talks of “the rally” that often occurs near the end, when the patient suddenly seems much better hours or days before death. She says the less we mess with the process, the more peaceful the death usually is. She explains that changes in breathing and skin colour, terminal secretions and fevers are all normal. I could add that the patient’s face takes on the look of a death mask, as if the visage is rehearsing for the skull to come. I saw this with both my father and grandmother as they approached death.

With my father, I was in denial, refused to believe this could be happening. Because what I didn’t get from the hospice, for all their good intentions, was a bracing honesty. I needed the blunt truth, that dad had begun his journey upon the irreversible road into death. In hindsight the staff knew but the family didn’t. We didn’t trust the peaceful process, didn’t surrender to reality, but clung to the wild, stubborn hope of a miraculous turnaround. The head of the palliative unit had said that some people do actually leave their care alive, that it’s not always terminal, and that’s what we gripped on to. Foolishly.

The actual care couldn’t be faulted. The room was large and airy, sliding doors opened to a peaceful courtyard, the dog was allowed onto the bed, there was music and endless cups of tea, as a circuit breaker, in a spacious communal lounge area. So much thought had gone into this compassionate place – it felt like a gift at the end of life. The Australian way of a foreseen death, done very well.

As Ursula Le Guin wrote once, “Let the dying spirit go”. Dad was ready, the staff were ready, but we the family were not. Perhaps it’s just too difficult sometimes to broach the subject; to announce the brutal words “look, they’re dying now, it’s not far off” to a desperately grieving family. I felt like something of a hostage within a death-hesitant culture; needed the truth but hope is easier, a polite and powerful drug.

There are grumblings that our palliative system isn’t good enough, particularly in the fraught arena of arguments around Voluntary Assisted Dying. Yet we felt cradled by support; there was a profound compassion for the dying as well as the living. I just wish there’d been a bit more brutal honesty – it would have lessened the shock. Because we weren’t prepared, mentally, for the process.

McFadden’s TikToks have helped with an understanding of the mysterious state a body succumbs to along its path into death. My relatives were irreversibly lost to us, as a family, yet seemed responsive to love as they underwent a leave-taking that felt beautiful and harrowing all at once. It didn’t feel claustrophobic, but a natural end to things; a slide over days into stillness. McFadden relates that the dying often call out to parents, and report seeing beloved relatives who’ve already passed away, waiting to lead them onward. She has no idea why.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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What Is Caregiver Burnout

—And How Can You Prevent It? Here’s What Experts Say

Frequent expressions of anger, sadness, and frustration are possible signs of caregiver burnout.

By Claire Gillespie

According to Rosalynn Carter, former first lady of the US, there are only four kinds of people in the world: “those who have been caregivers, those who are currently caregivers, those who will be caregivers, and those who will need caregivers.” As a decades-long champion for the rights of US caregivers, Carter knows what she is talking about.

There are now an estimated 53 million unpaid caregivers—individuals who care for their elderly, chronically ill, or disabled loved ones—across the country, according to the most recent data from AARP. That means one in five adults in the US acts as a caregiver.

Woman feeding mother at table, What Is Caregiver Burnout—And How Can You Prevent It? Here’s What Experts Say

With many families unable to pay for professional care, assuming the role of caregiver is often a necessity rather than a choice. “Families are expected to provide extraordinary care to people with serious illnesses—in most cases without access to disease education, an assessment of their own needs and abilities, [and] the skills to manage complex medical regimes or challenging behaviors and functional declines associated with, for instance, a person living with dementia,” Laura N. Gitlin, PhD, an applied research sociologist and dean of the College of Nursing and Health Professions at Drexel University in Philadelphia, tells Health.

And that can be hard, which means that those who care for their parents, siblings, children, or partners might experience caregiver burnout.

What is caregiver burnout?

A caregiver helps their loved one with daily activities like preparing meals, running errands, bathing, and performing medical tasks such as setting up tube feedings and giving medications. And as if that’s not enough, they often bear the weight of other types of stress, like having to deal with finances and manage doctor appointments for their loved one.

This collective stress is often referred to as caregiver burnout, and it’s all too common, according to Gitlin. “It’s a real phenomenon and shouldn’t be ignored,” she says. “It’s when a caregiver reaches a state of physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion due to ongoing (and in most cases extraordinary) and constant care responsibilities.”

Caregivers who reach this point may feel hopeless and have negative feelings about their situation. If it’s not addressed, it can lead to depressive symptoms, warns Gitlin.

What causes caregiver burnout?

The possibilities are wide—basically, anything you perceive as a stressor in your role as caregiver can lead to caregiver burnout, Martinique Perkins Waters, PhD, assistant professor in the Department of Behavioral Sciences at the University of West Alabama, tells Health.

The burnout could be sparked by the extra financial expenses due to the medical bills of your loved one’s care or all the factors that go into managing medical care, such as scheduling appointments, talking with insurance companies, getting to appointments, refilling prescriptions, and advocating to see specialists. The burnout could be triggered by the emotional toll of watching someone you love in pain and needing to provide constant support to them. Or, maybe the burnout stems from the frustration of feeling like you are losing your own identity as your career, hobbies, and personal goals may be shifted or even stopped due to your caregiving role.

Caregiver burnout often develops after not getting the help you need or not having an opportunity for any respite—or time for yourself—to recover from your care responsibilities, adds Gitlin. Being a caregiver for a loved one can make it difficult to switch “off” from your role, making it hard to find time for sufficient sleep and positive lifestyle behaviors like exercising.

While burnout can happen in any caregiving situation, somebody providing care for a person living with dementia may be at particular risk, Andrea Gilmore-Bykovskyi, PhD, assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin-Madison School of Nursing, tells Health. “Unfortunately, caregivers of people experiencing dementia in particular are often under-prepared and under-supported in their caregiving roles,” she says. “Knowing when, where, and how to seek help can be overwhelming, which can further compound the strain caregivers may be experiencing. It is often more challenging later in the disease course, when the needs of the person with dementia may be more challenging to meet.”

What are the signs and symptoms of caregiver burnout?

Some of the signs of caregiver burnout are very clear, according to Perkins Waters. “Frequent expressions of anger, sadness, and frustration are big red flags, especially when you don’t usually react in this manner,” she says.

Other signs are less clear, as they may manifest as symptoms that look like common chronic illnesses. This may be especially true depending on race. For example, research led by Perkins Waters and published in The Journals of Gerontology found that while African American caregivers are less likely to report being burdened by their caregiving role, the group is actually more likely to have physical manifestations of their caregiving burden, such as increased blood pressure, complications with other chronic illnesses, and cardiovascular issues. “We also know that these issues occur more frequently in the African American population in general so it can get overlooked as a sign of caregiver burnout,” Perkins Waters points out.

Symptoms of depression and anxiety are also very common. “If you are experiencing hopelessness, changes in sleep and/or eating habits, loss of interest in things you usually enjoy, lack of motivation, and feelings of overwhelm or general distress, it is possible you have reached that burnout point,” Perkins Waters says.

How can you prevent caregiver burnout?

Because its repercussions can be severe, preventing burnout is crucial. Perkins Waters’s research found that caregivers who felt that they were under a lot of strain had poorer health outcomes compared to caregivers who felt little or no strain.

“A major contributor to caregiver strain, and ultimately burnout, is the lack of easily accessible systems and resources that support caregivers in these roles,” says Gilmore-Bykovskyi. “For these reasons, it is really important for caregivers to seek support early and often, and even before they feel they need them—so they get help long before the point of burnout.”

This might mean joining a support group, creating a schedule to give you time to yourself every day, seeking professional help from a counselor, or simply taking another person up on their offer of help. If you have a solid support network and regular breaks from your caregiving responsibilities, you can reduce your risk of getting to the point of complete burnout.

“Respite is extremely important,” Perkins Waters says. “If possible, ask members of your family to assist with care. Even if they’re not close enough for day-to-day respite, they can make phone calls for services, search the internet for resources, or even have food delivered to the house so you have one less thing on your to-do list. If you attend a faith-based organization, more than likely there are members or a ministry that can stay with your loved one briefly, help with transportation, assist with groceries, or just come by to talk.”

A good starting point is your local agencies that advocate for senior services. “People often think of the Department of Human Services [DHS] as mainly for child services, but there are adult service programs as well,” says Perkins Waters. The DHS may be able to connect you with resources like adult day care programs, which support your loved one for a short time while you run errands or just go back home to rest.

There may also be non-profits or community organizations in your area that offer respite care. For instance, Alabama Lifespan Respite Resource Network offers vouchers that caregivers use to pay individuals to be with their loved ones in the home for short-term relief and provides resources for mental health counseling and caregiver support groups.

Even if you get this help for your caregiver duties, you still must make it a point to care for yourself, according to Perkins Waters. This means going to routine doctor appointments, talking with a counselor, finding a support group, hanging out with friends, making time for physical activity—in short, all the physical and mental care items we know we are supposed to do.

This is particularly important for caregivers who are parents. As Perkins Waters notes, a lot of caregivers juggle raising children and caring for aging parents. “You may go into the caregiver role expecting ease, as you have raised young children,” she says. “But it is an entirely different situation when you are older yourself and you are caring for an adult who likely raised you. There is more history and experience on both sides; this is a unique journey and taking care of your health will help better prepare you for it.”

If you have the means to pay for it, Gitlin highly recommends at least one consultation with a geriatric social worker who specializes in referral and linkages. The social worker can help you assess your caregiving situation, deal with stressors, and come up with a plan. Being a caregiver is never going to be easy, but it can be easier with the right help and support in place.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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‘sarco’ the assisted suicide pod is cleared for use in switzerland

sarco: a modern sarcophagus

by kat barandy

in 2019, australian euthanasia activist philip nitschke, founder of exit international, first unveiled his ‘sarco’ assisted suicide pod in venice. upon its first presentation to the world, people were already lined up to use it. taking shape as a high tech coffin, the pod allows the user to administer their own death in just minutes. with the press of a button inside the pod, the small space is flooded with nitrogen, causing oxygen levels to drop rapidly. the user will shortly feel ‘slightly euphoric,’ before falling into unconsciousness and peacefully passing away in a matter of minutes.

since its debut in venice, the philip nitschke’s machine has passed legal review and may be operated in switzerland.

a new way to die peacefully, now legal in switzerland

after passing legal review, the philip nitschke-designed pod offers a new method for assisted suicide in switzerland. the country is one of the few that has legalized physician-assisted suicide. it has one of the most progressive stances, allowing physician-assisted suicide without a minimum age requirement, diagnosis, or symptom state. because of this, people have traveled internationally for it — 221 people have traveled to the swiss clinic dignitas in 2018 alone (see more here). in 2020, around 1,300 people overall had died by assisted suicide in switzerland.

dr. nitschke, founder of exit international (see more here), champions the pod as a more peaceful alternative for those wishing to die. he explains in an interview with swiss journal SWI: ‘death takes place through hypoxia and hypocapnia, oxygen and carbon dioxide deprivation, respectively. there is no panic, no choking feeling.’ (see more)

revolutionizing the dying process

with his assisted suicide pod ‘sarco,’ philip nitschke seeks to ‘de-medicalize’ the dying process. he notes that currently, a doctor need to be involved to prescribe the patient with sodium pentobarbital and to confirm their mental capacity. the exit international founder aims to remove any kind of psychiatric review from the process and allow the individual to control the method themselves.

in lieu of a psychiatric review, the company is developing an artificial intelligence screening system to determine the person’s mental capacity. acknowledging the natural skepticism, especially from psychiatrists, nitschke notes the original concept, which involves an online test and an access code for the sarco.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!