It's not so cut and dry.
Personal brush with hospice, December 2015:
Called by hospice worker to visit someone recently put under care.
Made the trip, couldn't really see much wrong with the person except they had middle stage Alzheimer's.
The person's wife would repeatedly tell him that he was going to die soon. She would openly discuss his funeral in front of him.
In a private moment, the man looked at me, and asked me where I came from.
I told him, and he replied in that old fashioned tone of innocent good natured happiness, "Oh yeah, yeah, I want to go there. I was going to go there."
Then pensive sadness, "But I'm going to die soon, they say I am dying, but please, will you take me there. I want to go with you, please take me there!"
"No I can't. I'm so sorry."
The wife returned and served him pain pills with alcohol.
Told the hospice worker my concerns. "There is nothing we can do about that."
Two weeks later, the man was dead, was put on fatal doses of morphine until death ensued. He really looked pretty good, could walk around, eat, even remember who I was just weeks before. Said he had congestive heart failure and all this swelling, but his legs just had a little tiny bit of puffiness, could still see his ankles and bones.
Suspect his wife had grown tired of caring for him with her own failing health and they simply put him to sleep so they didn't have to deal with her any more and to take him off the roles.
This happened in a Red State where supposedly they are too "Christian" to do anything as immoral as allow people the choice to put themselves to sleep. One would assume they also believe themselves to be too good to be euthanizing veterans unable to help themselves any longer.
So they do it with morphine on their own timing and call it good.
Ah, but at least he was at home. Right?