When I’m gurgling, drooling, peeing and crapping myself, and need constant pain medication, I hope the guy with the scythe steps right in, declares me non compos mentis and all that crap, and takes a swing. 

Absent that, a “death panel” is a great idea for such people as my future self.  I didn’t ask to be born, and I damn sure don’t wanna have to beg to die.

just pitiful due to lack of point