Lydie Imhoff, 43, was born with hemiplegia and is nearly blind, but she gradually lost the use of her limbs. Last year, she made the decision to travel from her native France to Belgium to undergo her euthanasia due to the “fear of living inside her corpse”.
An AFP team first spoke to Liddy in March 2023 and met with a psychiatrist in Brussels to discuss the procedure, which was legalized in Belgium 20 years ago but remains illegal in France. I was given the go-ahead to receive it.
They traveled with her again earlier this year, making their final journey from the apartment in eastern France where she lived alone with her pet rabbit to Brussels, where her ashes are now being scattered.
Liddy’s apartment was almost empty, the light of the setting sun glinting in the bay window. She sighs as she huddles in her wheelchair and her rabbit, Lucky, shuffles around the room. The sound of her breathing echoes in the empty space.
“On the one hand, I can’t wait to be released. On the other hand, I feel guilty for leaving behind my loved ones. But at the end of the day, it’s a choice I made,” she told AFP.
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The atmosphere is solemn, but Liddy continues to tell jokes.
“Don’t forget to put the key in the mailbox or you’ll be killed!”
It was still dark outside when Denis Rousseau and his wife, Marie-Josée, parked their rented van outside Liddy’s house. Both are retired, and the former anesthetist and her nurse have been assisting her in the process of seeking euthanasia overseas since 2023.
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Isolated from her family, Liddy relies entirely on the support of these few friends and volunteers.
Sitting in the back seat, she cuddles up to Marie-Josée and pulls up a blanket that still has the fur of the rabbit she adopted the day before she left home.
Once the wheelchair is loaded, Denis Rousseau starts the engine. This is the first time the couple has accompanied someone to Belgium.
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“This is first and foremost a humanitarian act,” he says, looking ahead. “The political aspect is secondary.”
They interrupt their journey in the French town of Longwy, just across the border, where they meet Claudette Pierret, the right-to-die activist who first connected Liddy to Yves de Rohcht, a Belgian doctor who performs the surgery.
A table is set for them — “It’s like a birthday lunch!” Liddy joked before getting serious.
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“I just hope that when we get there, it will be peaceful and we can rest,” she says.
“I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting illness, disability, and everything every day.”
“I know I’m joking, but I’ve been feeling the breeze all day, and I get it.”
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“What you see here is not what’s underneath,” she said, pointing to her face.
After finishing our meal, we said goodbye at the main gate. The van leaves again for Brussels. Lydie’s day isn’t over yet. When she arrived at the hospital, she settled into a large room decorated with a seaside theme.
“So what’s your last meal tonight on death row?” she asks.
Before going to bed, Liddy has a final interview with the doctor about the next day.
“Is it still okay to do this?” De Rohit asks.
“That’s right! I’m sure it won’t happen, right?” Liddy answered.
“Tell me something that still sticks with you,” he asks.
“I’m thinking about the people I left behind.”
“Do you know what they’re thinking? No matter how sad they are, they’ll know you’re released.”
At the end of the conversation, Liddy hugged the doctor. “Your sweater is so soft!” she says to him.
The morning sky in Brussels is a crisp, bright blue. The curtains were drawn in Liddy’s hospital room.
Marie-Josée and Denis Rousseau sit on either side of the bed. The doctor arrived on time despite traffic disruption across the city due to farmers’ protests.
He asks Liddy one last time if she wants to die. She says yes.
“Okay. I’ll prepare the items. Please wait a little longer. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
De Rohcht is supported by fellow doctor Wim Distelmans, head of the hospital’s palliative care department. In a small lab, Distelmans uses three vials of thiopental, a barbiturate, to mix the substances.
The syringe is ready. Her doctors return together to Lydie’s room, where Denis Rousseau introduces her to the Distelmans.
“So he’s Big Boss?” she asked, and the others burst into laughter.
They gather around the bed. exchange the last words. De Rohit says, “Lydie, I say goodbye.”
“Shall I meet you upstairs?” she asks him. “Okay. Belgians, bye-bye. French people, bye-bye!”
When the doctors come out, they find Liddy’s empty wheelchair sitting facing the bedroom door.
Mr. de Rohit shares his impressions.
“My sense is that the disease was slowly killing her, so I put an end to her pain. That’s consistent with my ethics as a doctor,” he says.
“I don’t think I killed her at all. I feel like I cut through her pain.”
Together with Mr. Distelmans, he will then complete the documents needed to be submitted to the national oversight committee on euthanasia.
Before departing, he exchanges a few words with Denis Rousseau and Marie-Josée Rousseau. “We freed her,” he tells them.
Four days after his death, Liddy was cremated by crematorium staff and his ashes scattered in a memorial garden on the outskirts of Brussels. There were no family members present.
Belgium’s 2002 law decriminalizing euthanasia requires at least two expert opinions to support a patient’s decision, one from a psychiatrist and one from a doctor.
The law stipulates that the request must be due to “irreducible, continuous and intolerable physical or mental suffering resulting from a serious and incurable disability.”
According to the Federal Monitoring Commission, 2,966 people were euthanized in Belgium in 2022. Of those, 53 were based in France.
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