Kirsty Bosley: How can the right to decide when to die still be so wrong?

And when I learned this week that the state had passed a bill to allow physician-assisted suicide, I thought it was even cooler.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but California is quite a compassionate state. Medical marijuana is legal, allowing those suffering from cancer, AIDS and other chronic illnesses the right to grow or obtain the plant for medical purposes. I still can't quite get my head around why that's not the case everywhere, but perhaps that's one for another column.

And on Monday, Democratic Governor Jerry Brown signed a bill that will allow doctors to prescribe medication to end a patient's life. They can do this if two doctors agree the patient only has six months to live and determines they are mentally competent enough to make such an irrevocable choice.

The decision must be such a huge sigh of relief for those facing painful deaths, and for their families who will, of course, want to minimise the suffering.

There are only five states in the US where assisted suicide for terminally ill patients is legal – not very many at all, is it?

Governor Brown, a lifelong Catholic and former Jesuit seminarian, said he consulted a Catholic bishop, two of his own doctors and friends as part of his decision-making process.

In a rare statement accompanying the bill, Governor Brown shared his thoughts.

"In the end, I was left to reflect on what I would want in the face of my own death. I do not know what I would do if I were dying in prolonged and excruciating pain. I am certain, however, that it would be a comfort to be able to consider the options afforded by this bill. And I wouldn't deny that right to others."

I think it's the right decision to make, and I feel it's so sad that, here at home, our own citizens are not afforded the same right. I can understand the concerns, people may pressure those in a vulnerable situation to make decisions they'd live to regret (if they lived, of course) or that unscrupulous, money-grabbing caregivers might try and manipulate a situation in order to achieve their own, grimy ends.

But surely the benefits far outweigh the murky disadvantages? Surely if someone really wants you dead that badly, they'll find a way? Is it worth a blanket ban for the sake of a few 'might happen' or 'could occur' scenarios?

It's times like this the notion of religion really grates on me. Churches and religious groups come forward to campaign against the law, seeking to force their own beliefs and ideals on others, wishing to deny people free will in the name of their imaginary deity. Seeking to take away the very choice in the first place.

How could you look a dying person in the face when they're ravaged by illness, reliant upon high- strength medication to make it through a few hours of sub-standard life, and tell them that the choice cannot be theirs?

Of course every case needs to be considered individually, but on the whole it's inhumane – we don't do it to pets, so why allow people to go through this when they simply can no longer take it?

And what God, should he exist, would turn a man away at the pearly gates? Banishing them to hell after a righteous life, simply because they didn't wish to live through the agony of a few more weeks? Who is this awfully cruel, heinous God? Nonsense.

That said, in other news this week, the UK was ranked the best place in the world to die. Well, our end-of-life care has been ranked as the best according to a new study, anyway. (Obviously it'd be much nicer to die overlooking a stunning mountainscape than a snatched window view of Spaghetti Junction . . .)

The ranking was worked out following assessments for the quality of our hospitals and hospices, staff numbers and their skills and the affordability and quality of care. They looked at the end-of-life care in 80 countries and found, thanks to the NHS and hospice movement, our care was 'second to none'.

It offers only a little bit of comfort, really. It's nice to know if I'm struck by an incurable disease that would leave me in agony until I died, there would be enough skilled medical professionals on standby to inject the morphine. And it wouldn't leave my kids in debt.

I have no doubt the palliative care offered by the staff in our hospitals and hospices is excellent. I hope I'm lucky enough not to have to experience it. I'd just want to check out sharpish, before the illness made it so that the decision was no longer mine.

On the website of my local vets, they discuss euthanasia. "Help your beloved pet to slip away peacefully, with dignity and without further suffering," it says. The practice also offers aftercare for the family to deal with the sadness and difficulties faced following such a heartbreaking loss.

And it's highly likely your pet (unless they're some super-smart animal the likes of which science itself would hold aloft and claim 'MIRACLE!') doesn't know the pain they're set to face if they continue to live when they're desperately unwell.

So why do we not have a say, knowing what we know? Not only do we have to put up with the agony that comes with terminal illness, but we also have to put up with the psychological torment of knowing we were coasting a horrible journey until our deaths. And we have the added torment of being aware of how this is making our loved ones feel too.

To compromise with those lawmakers who were worried about unintended consequences (such as the targeting of the poor, elderly and disabled), the Californian law will expire in 10 years unless extended. Hopefully in that decade, California will see what a great decision it was and extend it further, with other states following its lead.

And hopefully, in 10 years, we'll be making such good decisions here too.

By Kirsty Bosley