Let me state here and now: I don’t want to live as a vegetable. If I am ever reduced to a ‘persistent vegetative state’ that requires interminable life support or feeding tubes, let me die. Put a bullet through my head, suffocate me with a pillow, something quick and final. Then harvest my organs for transplants and donate the rest to science. I certainly don’t want to linger as a brain dead vegetable, warehoused in some rehabilitation facility for decades, envying the dead. That’s all I have to say about that.