“You seriously want to die alone?”

I cock my head to one side and stare at my gorgeous friend, “Do you really mean that?” I say, quietly. Yes, she does. “I’d like to be left alone to enjoy the magic of the passing over. I don’t want the process to be contaminated by the fear of those who are reluctant to let me go.” Why? “Because perhaps I don’t trust the people who would naturally be by my side to not get caught up in their needs.”

I am not sitting by her death bed I hasten to add. We we’re just having a chat on her sofa one afternoon.

“But what do you think I would do?” I say, completely missing her cue. “I’d be a natural person to be there, well I would nominate myself as a very natural person to be there.” I add, rather self importantly. “I think you’ve just answered the question," she says, pointedly. Strike One.

Keen to reassert myself into the death action, I tell her how it will be once she dies peacefully. I will light scented candles and bathe her body in beautiful aromatic oils to prepare her for the journey into the afterlife. There might even be a bit of mournful Celtic music in the background if I can lay my hands on my Enya CD.

“No, you bloody won’t” she shudders, “I don’t want you washing my bits when I’m dead. I can’t think of anything worse". Mmm…I hadn’t thought that far. I was more at the incense and quiet weeping stage. Actually, when she puts it like that, nor do I. Good point. Strike Two.

Ok. Well, then the least I can do is be a pall bearer. I’d be good at that. I can do solemn walking. I can do quiet dignity. I’ve even done a bit of a rehearsal walking up the stairs balancing the laundry basket on my shoulder with one hand. Total natural. She recoils, incredulous. “I’m sorry darling," not sounding the least bit sorry, “but you are not a professional! And as much as I love you, I’m not having you walking with me lopsided down the aisle. It’s just not happening”. Strike Three.

So that went well.

At least I can console myself that when it comes to knowing the dying wishes of those we love, getting it wrong is far more likely than getting it right. “It’s very common," according to my guest Lizzie Neville in Epsiode 4, Meetings at the Edge. She’s a Death Doula who helps us through the dying process in much the same way a midwife helps us through the process of giving birth.

“We tend to think, ‘oh well they're like me. We’ve lived together for 40 years and think the same’. Well, actually you don't. So it's very important that we clarify things before we get too far down the line as it’s much harder to talk somebody if they're in the last week of dying than it is six months before.”

This is especially true when considering medical interventions at the end of life. Do I want to be resuscitated after a massive stroke? No thanks. Nor do I want my pneumonia treated if I’m paralysed from the neck down. But have I told anyone? Of course not, I’ve barely thought about it myself.

I make the mistake of admitting as much to Lizzie. She gently suggests I think about making a Living Will? “Once you’ve had the conversation you don't need to worry about it anymore. It's finished with and you can get on and live.”

Curiosity gets the better of me and I ask her how might she approach this conversation with me? Her eyes twinkle with delight at the invitation. “Well, we’d go through all sorts. What treatments do you want, what treatments don't you want? Who do you want with you? Who do you not want with you which is just as important. Do you want your pets with you when you die? [Apparently someone was allowed to bring their horse to a hospice, totally cool.] Do you want to be near a window? Is nature important to you? Do you want tea or coffee? How do you like it? Do you have a favourite mug? Because the little things are really important. After that we talk about what sort of funeral you would want. Do you even want a funeral? Do you want a casket? What type? Do you want a green burial? Then we would talk about what sort of service you would want. Do you even want a service? Is religion important to you? Who do you want to speak? There are lots of options and we would go through them one by one.”

But don’t people find this a very sad and upsetting discussion? “No. It’s a huge relief. Huge. If you don’t do it, all that pressure is put on your family at a time of intense sadness.”

So the responsible thing — the loving thing — is to remove that burden from those you love. Download the form and talk through your decisions. Or, if like me, you have grand plans which they might poo poo, don’t ask them. Stay schtum and if you accidentally drop their coffin as you stumble down the aisle covered in lavender oil, they’ll be none the wiser.