'When my wife was diagnosed with a brain tumour at 29, she knew exactly how she would spend her final day.'

Brittany Maynard was looking forward to what the future had in store. She'd just bought a house with her husband Dan Diaz and was looking to start a family.

But cancer had other plans. On New Year's Day, 2014, she discovered she had glioblastoma, a terminal form of brain cancer. Over the following weeks, Brittany was told her cancer was growing aggressively, and she likely had less than six months left to live.

She decided to fight, but she also wanted the option to die with dignity when the time came. Unfortunately, Dan and Brittany's home state of California did not offer voluntary assisted dying (VAD) at the time.

They were forced to pack up their lives and move from the San Francisco Bay Area to Oregon, 12 hours away, where Brittany could access the state's Death With Dignity Act.

"We were looking to start a family and [had] plans of things we wanted to do, and then all of a sudden cancer comes into your world and punches you in the face," Dan told Mamamia's twice-daily news podcast The Quicky.

"The worst part was the fact we had to leave our home… the time that was stolen from us, that's the time we wanted back."

Listen to The Quicky discuss voluntary assisted dying. Post continues below.

At the time, only four states had similar end of life laws. Brittany decided that wasn't good enough. She wanted to save others from jumping through the same hoops to die with dignity.

"Brittany decided with whatever time and energy she could muster, she'd lend her voice to this. She wanted her message to reach legislators in California," Dan said.

And it worked. In October 2014, a six-minute video of Brittany transformed the conversation about assisted dying in the United States.

Brittany died on November 1, 2014. She was just 29 years old.

The following October, the Californian government signed new legislation for the California End of Life Option Act. Now, there are 11 states with similar laws, with Dan leading the charge for everyone eligible to have the option in Brittany's honour.

"That was a promise I'd made to Brittany," Dan said.

How does voluntary assisted dying work?

In her final months, Brittany was trying to make it to two milestones: the couple's wedding anniversary at the end of September and Dan's birthday at the end of October.

"For Brittany to make it through those months, the symptoms were getting bad. Pain not even morphine could alleviate, the nausea, the vomiting. The seizures are what terrified her the most," Dan said.

On her last day, she woke up and walked the dogs with Dan.

"She was struggling. She had a seizure that morning and said, 'It's my time. I'd prefer to pass away now where I am still myself. Pass away gently instead of pick a number… I'm only going to be suffering.'"

Brittany was terrified she would suffer a stroke and become incapacitated, leaving her unable to take the assisted dying medication. She would be stuck in her body, forced to die the exact way she was trying to avoid.

"Within five minutes of taking the medication, she fell asleep very peacefully. Within 30 minutes, her breathing slowed to the point where she passed away," Dan said.

"That's what she was speaking up for — that endings matter, her death matters. She was not going to allow cancer to be in the driving seat."

Brittany Maynard on her wedding day. Image: Brittany Maynard Fund.

For Australian woman Lauren Pink, voluntary assisted dying was a "gift" for her family.

Her dad was always full of life and chasing adventure, so when cancer took that from him, Lauren knew he deserved more than to die in a way he hated.

"He always said he wanted to die on his own terms," she told The Quicky. "When you compare how his ending was going to happen, dying in a palliative care ward, it didn't match up to him."

It was the West Australian man's second bout of cancer. This time, an inoperable tumour made its home in his neck, causing him an "extreme amount of pain".

Chemotherapy wasn't an option and radiation had little effect on the cancer. He tried a pain doctor, but there was nothing that could improve his quality of life in a meaningful way.

"It was really difficult for him because it was that pain that other people couldn't visualise," Lauren said.

"We thought he was turning a corner and then about two to three weeks later, mum called me and said, 'You need to get on a plane and come here. He's been admitted to palliative care, and he's deteriorating really quickly.'"

Palliative care was her father's worst nightmare. He didn't want to see out his final days on a ward waiting for his organs to shut down.

Everything changed for the family when they learnt of voluntary assisted dying.

"It was like the clouds parting and there was a little bit of sunshine for him. All he could see was pain and suffering and a death that seemed uncertain," Lauren said.

"Now he had this hope he'd be able to die in a peaceful way on a day of his choosing in a location of his choosing in a way that was completely pain free."

On his last day, Lauren's dad spent time with his immediate family to say goodbye before sharing his final moments with just his wife.

Watch: Belinda Teh talking about her mother's assisted dying. Post continues below.

Who is eligible for voluntary assisted dying in Australia?

In November, NSW became the last Australian state to allow people to end their lives with help from a health practitioner. Voluntary assisted dying laws have also been passed in the ACT and will commence on November 3, 2025.

The criteria varies slightly between jurisdictions, but for the most part, a person is eligible if they are older than 18 and have an advanced illness or disease that will cause death within 12 months and is causing them suffering that cannot be relieved.

Patients must make the request voluntarily and have the capacity for decision-making.

Despite it being legal in most places, not everyone is aware that voluntary assisted dying is an option.

Lauren said her family was only made aware of the choice by a family friend.

"Healthcare professionals never mentioned voluntary assisted dying," she said. "It makes me so angry. I'm heartbroken for people that don't know it exists.

"It's not the only choice and it's not a choice everyone is going to want to make, but it's voluntary. The fact no one had mentioned it as part of his care program, I find quite infuriating. It would've changed everything for him.

"Dad's dying was inevitable, but his suffering didn't have to be."

Brittany Maynard with her dog. Image: Brittany Maynard Fund.

For Dan, allowing more people to access vountary assisted dying is a no-brainer.

"Brittany doesn't get to choose between living and dying," he said. "It does not lead to more people dying, it simply results in fewer people suffering. It allows the terminally ill individual to have the option."

When Lauren looks back on her last day with her dad in late 2023, she does so with a smile.

"We stood around the kitchen bench for a final time… we cracked a bottle of Moët, cheersed him one last time, did a big group hug and him and mum went off for their last moments together.

"It was like the last gift we could give to him. I got 43 wonderful years with my dad. To fulfil his last wish, it feels really special."

Feature image: Brittany Maynard Fund.