I'm a retired oncology nurse.  I've been peripherally involved with the Hastings Center and their Decisions at the End of Life since the mid-90's.
I can tell you, Tom, that there are a lot of very sick people out there who'd give their eye teeth to have someone tell them its ok to stop treatment so they can go home and stay home and be comfortable with their families.
The relief in someone's eyes when you ask them how they think this is all going and what they'd like to see happening is palpable--really.
Patients sometimes keep up a front because they don't want to disappoint their families or their doctors.
The atmosphere around end of life issues is much more open than it was 15-20 years ago but we still have a way to go.
Palliative care and hospice care are all around the country now but still not used optimally.

I think the death panel scare didn't go the way the Tea Party wanted because too many people have had very good care with hospice and palliation in the past few years.  More and more people see the need for practical thinking as we come to the end of our lives. And, gratefully, more and more doctors are asking patients how they want to live their lives.

Euthanasia is a very personal decision and not one I would extend to a patient--I would not condemn them for the thought of it however, it's something I can understand all too well.
Hospice provides simple comfort and relief from the pain and anxiety at end of life.

For the chronically ill who are worn to a thin string and still can see years of suffering before them--that's the rock and the hard place--I would recommend to anyone who asked me about it to see a palliative care MD (if they can't talk to their own doc) and have a good long serious talk.  There are avenues that can be taken...

For those who don't know:  palliative care is matching the patient's treatment to the patient's desires.
Ultimately all medical care is palliative.

In response to questions on euthanasia and end of life, I tell you my story.
10 years ago, my brother,  who was seriously handicapped since childhood as a result of encephalitis, died. My mother never got delivered. What could be more awful for a mother to lose her child? My mother was an excellent pianist, she never played the piano ever since.
 The following year my father died of a lung cancer.It's is a horrible disease that eats you first silently and then gradually change you into a living corpse when you're not lucky enough to die quickly . My father was not so lucky, his agony was very long, extended by the hard therapeuthic( in French "l'acharnement thérapeuthique").It was initially a constant cough for months and feeling very tired, he could not hold his violin ( he was a very good violinist), he could not walk, and it was discovered that he had metastasis everywhere, then it was the emergency hospitalization. He spent months in pain in a little room where there was a tiny window (like a prison cell). I still remember his poor smile when he saw us, his eyes reddened (this man worthy, for whom music and the violin was his whole life, and who was now a living corpse). My mother went to see him several times a day, she accompanied him until his death with a total dedication.
I did'nt want relive such horror. But fate decided otherwise ...
1 year ago, my mother was hospitalized for jaundice. But it was not a simple jaundice. The hospital doctor told me it was a tumor: it was pancreatic cancer (one of the most horrific of all). We had to hide the truth to my mother because she would not bear.My mother was  very dynamic and courageous, with a strong character, made to have a long life (her own mother died at 100 years). She was subjected to numerous examinations, many hospitalizations, many surgical procedures. It was a year of horrible suffering. I saw streams of vomit black blood, I saw the progression of evil on his body, the anguish in her eyes, grimaces of pain on her face.The last 2 weeks have been particularly devastating. She could not move from the hospital bed, she could neither eat or drink, her legs were swollen and her belly became huge (this is called "ascite" in the medical term), while her face and upper body was completely emaciated. His body was a ruin, but her mind was intact. I saw her crying, saying "I would like so to be in my house." My heart was torn.Then she lost the use of the word and she left us three days later. She died alone in her hospital room, she was so afraid of death. I am so sad not having been with her...
The doctor promised me that my mother would die in dignity, but he deceived me. Always this hard therapeuthic ... And the medical staff was far from perfect. Do you know how to behave  some auxiliary nurses with patients at end of life? They do not hesitate to get their bad mood on them, it's so much easier to attack a dying than a healthy person. I defended my mother as I could, but these people are protected by their superiors.
All these regrets, remorse, bitterness, these memories poisoned ...
Why not let human beings die in dignity?
How to live after that?
What is the meaning of our life?
Sorry for my bad English...