03-08-2025
Fraser Cahill wanted to die with dignity - and he did that
EXCLUSIVE
As 37-year-old Fraser Cahill sat rugged up, looking out to the ocean, surrounded by those he loved, he sipped on the liquid mixture his nurse prepared for him and then he gave her a wink.
'With that wink I knew what he was saying,' community palliative care nurse Beth Dineen recalls of that special day looking out over the ocean at Point Lonsdale, a scenic coastal hideaway in southern Victoria.
'He was saying 'we did it, we made this happen'. He was saying thank you.'
The liquid would soon seep its way through Fraser's body, first putting him to sleep and then slowly and gently shutting down his vital organs.
Fraser had already said his last goodbyes, listened to his favourite songs, hugged those he loved, and he was ready to take his last breath.
The popular high-end real estate agent from Melbourne had battled a rare and aggressive form of duodenal cancer, keeping his diagnosis a secret for as long as he could while undergoing chemotherapy.
He thought he had won the battle but the cancer returned after Christmas last year – this time it was more ferocious and doctors agreed Fraser had just weeks to live.
'When Frase said he wanted to come down to Point Lonsdale for his final days, the hospital put a referral into Bellarine Community Health Palliative Care. That's where I came in,' Beth told
'When I first met Fraser at his home I had the doctor with me, and you could just tell he was someone who did things his own way,' she recalls.
'He was just very full of life despite his situation, his circumstances. And one of the first things he had said was that he wanted to do Voluntary Assisted Dying (VAD) down at the beach.
'And I remember getting back in the car saying to the doctor, 'It's fine. We've got a bit of time to talk him out of it', because conventionally, logistically that doesn't normally happen.
'As I got to know Fraser and his family more, it became a case of 'We've got to make this happen no matter what it takes. They're going to do it anyway. So let's just, let's help them do it, and let's sort of break some of those barriers with VAD'.'
Fraser, with the help of nurse Beth and his brother Wes, began scoping out locations and soon settled on the perfect spot.
Not everyone was on board with his decision – the Catholic respite care facility taking care of him would not allow conversations about VAD to take place within their four walls.
Fraser's mum Mandy recalls the family having to sneak Fraser out for appointments with VAD facilitators.
'The doctors and the staff weren't allowed to talk about it. We found that quite incredible. This was Fraser's choice after all.'
Go Gentle Australia's CEO Dr Linda Swan told that VAD 'eases suffering and gives dying people comfort in their final days'.
'It's therefore disappointing that a faith-based facility made Fraser's choice harder than it needed to be. While a facility can elect not to participate in VAD, they should not stand in the way of someone's legal choice. Their objection should never become obstruction and it should never cause harm.'
Wes says the attitude in the care facility was just one of the many challenges along the way but he was 'stopping at nothing' to make Fraser's wish come true.
Once the location was chosen – a lookout at Point Lonsdale's back beach – Beth and Wes set about alerting authorities that there would be an 'unusual gathering'.
'We had to think about how we could get Fraser's body down the steep hill afterwards so we looked into where we could get a stretcher,' Wes said.
Beth spoke to the local police. 'I explained that this really is no different to someone going to the beach and taking a substance and waiting for someone to find them because that's the reality of what happens,' she said.
'So we explained that this way, we were going to control the situation as best we could.
'We also decided to use a family vehicle that we could safely put him in so yes, there was a lot to manage and navigate.'
Fraser decided on a Tuesday in March that he would die the following Friday, knowing his health was declining rapidly.
After a family dinner on Thursday night, when Friday came, he had no second thoughts, no tears.
Not once did he question 'why me?' instead telling his mum it was just bad luck and he'd had a good run.
He walked up the hill, side-by-side with his siblings, to his chosen spot, just like he had planned.
'He had cuddles and last chats with everyone. He sat in his chair and shared those last special moments with the ones he loved, and then when he was ready he drank his drink,' Wes said.
'I think because he was such a positive person and so uplifting, he didn't ever really want to talk about being scared or anything.
'He was just so positive and brave. Maybe internally, he was worried about getting sicker and not having control of his body, so he wanted a nice passing, he wanted to make the most of his last few months and die with dignity and he did that.'
Both Beth and Wes are passionate about breaking down barriers and stamping out stigma associated with VAD – which is legal in all six Australian states and the ACT. Northern
Territory is expected to soon follow suit.
According to Go Gentle Australia, residents strongly back voluntary assisted dying laws, with support in most recent polls running between 70 and 90 per cent.
Each state though has different requirements and supporters argue accessing the process should be more streamlined.
Beth said it was an honour to help Fraser leave the world the way he had planned.
She urges people with terminal illnesses – in situations like Fraser – to ask questions, find out what the rules are in their own state.
'Fraser used to talk about not contributing to the circle of life anymore, and I think he would be very proud to see how much he's actually still contributing despite him not being here anymore. He should be very proud.'
