I, for one, argue this is the wrong way to die.
When my time comes, assuming it doesn't come in the surprising manner of a heart attack / stroke / truck, I would like to die at a place that feels like home. Better yet, at home.
Here's hoping that by the time my time comes, human euthanasia will be as acceptable as it is for pets.
Which, in my book, is yet another reason to pick euthanasia. Instead of dying at a depressing hospital, I want to die at home, sitting in my hi fi's hotspot, with When the Levee Breaks' drumming shaking the very foundations of the earth at the volume levels this song is meant to be played at.
That's the proper way to die.