Dame Meg Hillier

In my brief remarks today, I want to touch on principle, policy and practice. We have to be very clear that we are having a debate not just on the principle, but on the Bill. The principle at stake is that we would cross a Rubicon whereby someone who is terminally ill, according to the definition in the Bill, is assisted by the state to die. That is a fundamental change in the relationship between the state and the citizen, and the patient and their doctor. If we have a scintilla of doubt about allowing the state that power, we should vote against the Bill today. Like most of us, I came into politics partly to stand up for the vulnerable, and we have heard heartbreaking stories today about those vulnerable at the point of death. We have also heard—and I concur completely with my right hon. Friend the Member for Hackney North and Stoke Newington (Ms Abbott)—about those who are vulnerable for other reasons and who could be coerced or persuaded down this route. I have had the privilege of being around the hospice movement for nearly 50 years, as my father established one of the first national health service hospices in this country. I saw what he did as a doctor in a world where death was not talked about, where surgeons would say, “We’ll whip this bit out and you’ll be fine.” He would be one of the first to have to tell the patient that they were actually going to die. The work that he did, on the back of giants such as Dame Cicely Saunders, is something we should be proud of. We were the first country in the world to recognise palliative care as a separate profession, and some of the tragedies we have heard about today arose from a failure in that system. A failure in palliative care and support is not a reason to continue. I have personal experience of this. Many hon. Members will remember when my daughter was very ill a few years ago. I had not intended to speak about this today, but she was admitted to hospital as a teenager with acute pancreatitis. The Bill would not have covered her, but I did not know for five days—in fact, many months—whether she would live or die. For those first five days she did not sleep and she did not eat, and she was crying out in pain. I saw what good medicine can do. It palliated that pain and got her to a place where, although she was unable to eat for two and a half months, she was saved and her pain was managed. Our best friends were the pain nurses and the anaesthetists. I have other examples of another family member, but I do not have time to go into them today. I hope my daughter forgives me for raising her personal situation in the House today—