choice

by

Me Before You: A Tragic Tale of Romance and Assisted Suicide 

When I first watched Me Before You, I felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. The story follows Louisa “Lou” Clark who becomes the caregiver of Will Traynor, a man who was adventurous before becoming paralyzed after an accident. Will unfortunately faces many challenges both physically and mentally, leading him to choose assisted suicide despite falling in love, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this movie ever since. Recently I started to question, if it was romantic, or was it reinforcing the idea that a disabled life isn’t worth living? After reading Nicole Schroeder’s “Dying a ‘Good’ Death: Disability and the Assisted Suicide Debate” from the Disability Visibility Project, I started to see the story through a completely different lens.

Before I fully dive in, I want to fully paint the picture of this movie. Firstly, Will’s parents hire Lou to care for him after his accident two years in an attempt to raise his spirits. Lou’s unapologetic, positive personality slowly breaks through his bitterness, and they form a deep connection. After finding out he plans to go to Swtizerland for assisted suicide, Lou tries her best to change his mind by trying everything from taking him to concerts and a trip out of the country. But in the end, Will does not change his mind even after falling for Lou. The movie paints his choice as noble as a way of reclaiming control over his life and giving Lou a chance to live hers. The final scene shows Lou reading Will’s farewell letter in Paris, smiling through her tears. It’s meant to be bittersweet, but it also raises difficult questions about what “a good death” really means, and whether society offers disabled people real choices about living.

Nicole Schroeder’s essay completely reframes this debate. She argues that the real issue isn’t about whether people have the right to die, but it’s about why so many disabled people feel they need to. She writes, “those of us protesting do not want people to be in needless pain; instead we want resources other than death to alleviate suffering while people are still alive.” That line stuck with me because it exposes how the conversation around assisted suicide often ignores the failures that lead people to that point: lack of access to care, isolation, and social neglect.

In the film, Will isn’t shown receiving much support beyond Lou’s companionship and his personal caretaker, Nathan. Even with wealth, he seems completely alone in a world not built to include him. Schroeder highlights that in a “hyper-capitalist world,” assisted suicide can become a cheaper alternative to improving care and accessibility. It’s haunting to think about how Will’s decision might have been shaped not by genuine choice, but by a culture that sees disability as tragedy especially after losing the hyper-active life he once had. 

One of Schroeder’s most important points is that assisted suicide is often presented as a form of autonomy, when in reality, many disabled people are making choices under pressure. She shares that in Canada, nearly half of those choosing Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID) cite feeling like a burden or experiencing loneliness. That statistic immediately reminded me of Will telling Lou he didn’t want her to give up her life for him. What sounds selfless in a romantic story becomes more complicated when you realize how society teaches disabled people to internalize guilt for simply existing.

The movie’s emotional framing makes Will’s death feel inevitable, even “beautiful,” but Schroeder challenges that idea. She calls out how assisted suicide has “eugenics-centered roots,” meaning that the very systems allowing it have historically viewed disabled lives as less valuable. When I look back at Me Before You now, I can’t unsee this unfortunate pattern that tangles up love, care, and death into a message that equates disability with hopelessness.

When I first watched Me Before You, I can still remember myself tearing up during the beach scene when Will tells Lou that he is still going to Switzerland after she pours her heart out to him. Me and many fans of this movie are still heartbroken over what could’ve blossomed between Will and Lou. But now, I think the real heartbreak isn’t Will’s death….it’s that the story never gives him another option. Schroeder’s essay reminded me that true dignity doesn’t come from the “freedom” to die; it comes from having the support and resources to live fully. The film romanticizes Will’s choice, but if it reflected the realities Schroeder describes like underfunded care systems, social isolation, and ableist messaging, it might look less like empowerment and more like surrender to a world that failed him.

I still love Me Before You for its intensity and emotional honesty, but I see it differently now. It’s not just a love story; it’s also a mirror of how our society defines whose lives are worth fighting for.

Let me make my silly little choices, and you can make yours.
by

Let me make my silly little choices, and you can make yours.

Front cover of the Sudafed PE OTC box.

Recently, an FDA panel announced that Sudafed PE and other decongestants are, essentially, ineffective. Since this announcement, I’ve seen countless articles pop up on my Google News feed about removing Sudafed PE, Mucinex, and Benadryl from the shelves. The argument to remove the medicines is that we shouldn’t be selling ineffective products–but are they really ineffective? An argument can be made that these are exceptionally effective placebos (sugar pills/ineffective medicine).

The placebo effect is well documented; even when a patient knows they are taking a placebo, sometimes just taking a pill helps to trick the body into the desired effect. Bodies and minds are weird, and whatever works, works. Even if Sudafed and its relatives are little more than placebos, I think they should be allowed to stay on the shelves. After all, the placebo effect can reduce symptoms by up to 50%, and that’s more than enough to convince me.

For all the many ailments I have–visible and invisible, temporary and chronic–very few have effective and fast solutions. There is no Xanax for depression, no Zofran for migraines, but there is Sudafed for a stuffy nose. Maybe it’s silly to continue to take something that has been proven not to work, but I swear I feel my sinuses clear up minutes after taking Sudafed. It allows me to get a restful sleep instead of battling with the correct sleeping position that allows me to breathe.

With the lack of effective medications available for a variety of illnesses, I am frustrated by the attempt to remove existing medications instead of putting new ones on the market. While I am not necessarily a fan of being stuffed full of pills, I like having the hope that maybe there is an accessible medication out there that will work for me. When the number of approved medications is even further limited, frustrated and exhausted people like me turn to home remedies and endless concoctions of honey, sea salt, herbs, and usually get roped into the wellness industry once or twice.

If Sudafed doesn’t work for general populace, there is nothing I can do about it. But whether it’s the placebo effect at work or there really is some merit to Sudafed, let me decide how to spend my money. Taking Sudafed off the shelves leaves me one less remedy for a restful night–and when I’m combating so many other ailments for a moment of peace, this tiny relief is a huge victory for me. Leave the silly little pill on the silly little shelf and let me make my silly little choice; you are free to pass it in the aisle if you wish, but leave some for me.