Having been on the “watching people die” end of health care (I spent 5 years as a Respiratory Therapist in my college years which involved a lot of administering CPR until the doctors felt that they could declare death without being sued) I think that’s not even close to the correct question.
The correct question is, “How long do you want to stay alive?” Seriously. Do you comprehend the potential agony (physical, spiritual, family, etc.) of living well into the territory of rapidly diminishing returns? Do you really want to do that to those you love? Do you really want to do that to yourself?
The fact that that question is never asked from that direction pretty much defines the problem with death in the modern era in all it’s dimensions.
I’ve made it clear to everyone around me that I’m perfectly fine with my truly close loved ones (wife first, kids second) making that call and not taking an ounce of shit from anyone else. Mostly because I’ve seen it in all its graphic glory. If you love me, let me go peacefully. I try not to let any unresolved questions linger. When it’s time, we’re all good. Carry on as you must.
There’s the real thought experiment.