I understand what the end looks like. My grandmother went through it, and she was the only exception her "dry" memory car facility allowed after her withdrawls started. She had been living on two meals at Chilli's a week, with the rest of her caloric intake derived from wine.

I am also going through a cancer scare myself and have been thinking about the future.

Sometimes it is helpful to review the wisdom of the ages, so I'll leave some here for ponder, as I don't know that I'm convinced the short of it is always the best decision:

> The lame can ride a horse, the handless drive cattle, the deaf can fight and win. It’s better even to be blind, than fuel on a pyre; a corpse is of no use to anyone.

I suppose at some point, one's disability does truly leave them beyond repair, beyond productivity. But maybe there is comfort knowing your existence fuels a paycheck for whomever is charged woth your care? But that may be undesirable if it subtracts from your heirs.