The Uruguayan Chamber of Deputies took a giant step in the debate on a dignified death by giving preliminary approval to a bill authorizing euthanasia. With 64 votes in favor and 29 against, the initiative now moves to the Senate, generating enormous expectations in a society that has been discussing the issue for years. The legislative milestone is particularly emotional for people like Beatriz Gelós, a 65-year-old retired Spanish teacher who suffers from Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS). For her, the news is a "huge relief" and the possibility of being able to decide her own end.
Gelós was diagnosed with ALS in 2008, and since then, her life, which was pure sport and energy, has slowly fallen apart. With a progressive decline that left her unable to move, unable to clean herself, or even scratch herself, her nights became a living hell. "The sheets burn," she said with difficulty. Despite the fatal prognosis given to her in 2010, she's still here, but with an increasingly poor quality of life. The progress of the law is the light at the end of the tunnel she's waited so long for.
The bill, which could make Uruguay the second Latin American country, following Colombia, to legalize euthanasia, establishes that any adult with full mental capacity may request it if they suffer from an incurable and irreversible illness, are in the terminal stage, or are experiencing "unbearable suffering with a serious deterioration in their quality of life." The patient's wishes can be revoked at any time.
During the 14-hour debate, the discussion was heated. Representative Federico Preve, of the ruling Frente Amplio party, which returned to power in 2025, maintained that the law is about "love, humanity, and empathy." He also said that final approval would establish Uruguay as a "benchmark for rights" in the region.
On the other hand, there were strong voices of opposition. National Party representative Luis Satdijan questioned whether society should offer "death as a response to suffering." Along the same lines, Andrés Grezzi argued that when the State validates the idea that some lives are less valuable, "it ceases to be an unconditional guarantor of care."
Gelós, who describes herself as Catholic but sometimes "doesn't believe in God," has a straightforward response for those who propose palliative care as the only option. "They know nothing, they understand nothing," she stated. For her, the opponents have no idea what it's like to live day to day with such unbearable pain. Amid the legislative work and differences of opinion, her letter, read in the Chamber by a representative, served to put a face to the reality of those who yearn for this law: "My life would be more dignified if I could wash myself, write by hand, talk on the phone, scratch myself."
The matter now rests with the Senate. While Beatriz Gelós's life continues to move forward "very slowly," her hope, along with that of other patients, is that the law will finally be passed. For her, at 65, the chance to be able to decide is a peace of mind worth its weight in gold.
