NEED TO KNOW
- Roseana Spangler-Sims, 72, was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer almost 18 months ago
- On Sunday, Aug. 31, she is set to end her life using California’s Medical Aid in Dying (MAID) law
- “I’m more at peace than I’ve ever been,” Roseana tells PEOPLE, while revealing how she’s spending her final hours
Roseana Spangler-Sims is sitting on a couch next to her son with a purple blanket wrapped around her. She’s cold and can’t find a way to get warm. Her stomach pain is severe and constant. She’s exhausted — but her sense of calm is palpable.
Nearly 18 months ago, the 72-year-old was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. She spent more than a year undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, hoping her body could heal. But by June, after an MRI showed that the cancer was continuing to spread, Roseana stopped her treatment. She decided to choose her own ending.
On the evening of Sunday, Aug. 31, Roseana will take a fatal dose of medication and end her life under California’s Medical Aid in Dying (MAID) law. California is one of 11 states where MAID is legal.
“I’m ready to go,” Roseana, a resident of Vista, Calif, tells PEOPLE. “I’m more at peace than I’ve ever been.”
Courtesy of Roseana Spangler-Sims Roseana Spangler-Sims in August 2025
Roseana says she is sharing her story and chronicling her final hours in the hopes that others can better understand what it means to chose MAID —and why it’s been so important to her.
On Aug. 18, she left her single room apartment in Vista, and traveled to a VRBO near Palomar Mountain, north of San Diego. The next day, her son Shawn Cisneros, his wife Cindy and Cindy’s twin sister, Sandi, arrived at the house from their homes in Florida to spend Roseana’s last two weeks together.
Courtesy Roseana Spangler-Sims Spangler-Sims (in pink) with son Shawn Cisneros and his wife, Cindy on Aug. 23, 2025
They’ve taken drives through the forests where Roseana used to hike when she was healthy. They’ve looked through boxes of photos. And last week, they threw a living wake, with more than a dozen friends and family.
Now they are hours away from their last goodbye.
Courtesy Roseana Spangler-Sims Spangler-Sims (in yellow) with friends and family, and death doula Melissa McClave (front), at her celebration of life on Aug. 24
Roseana has had her last meal— a light breakfast: papaya and mango. Her stomach can’t be full when she drinks her medication this evening.
By 11 a.m. Pacific time, her death doula, Melissa McClave, will have arrived to guide Roseana and her family through the end of life process. At about the same time, a psilocybin facilitator will come to begin a ritual using the psychedelic drug
She’ll perform a smudging ceremony with sage and then will administer a microdose of magic mushrooms. “It will be closer to Catholic last rites than it would be to going to a Phish concert,” McClave explains.
The psychedelic is the first step “to bring myself to that peaceful point,” Roseana says. “And it’s also about feeling one with nature.” That sensation will linger into the evening.
“I’m ready to go. I’m more at peace than I’ve ever been. I’m ready for the new adventure”
Roseana Spangler-Sims
Roseana has thought carefully about what to wear on her last day, revealing, “I wanted something that was totally me.” She choose Chicago Cubs pajama pants (a nod to the Illinois native’s home team) and a custom-made Star Trek t-shirt. On the front is the iconic Star Trek “delta” insignia, airbrushed in gold and brown tones. On the back are the letters “IDIC”. Roseana, who also wears a Star Trek delta pendant around her neck, translates the acronym: “It stands for ‘Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations,’ a Star Trek motto.”
It’s a message that the dedicated Trekkie has tried to live by — and one she wants to leave behind. “I wish there was not so much ugliness in the world,” she says. “I am tired of people hating on each other. To paraphrase [Star Trek creator] Gene Roddenberry, we should not only tolerate our differences, but celebrate them. I celebrate it all.”
Courtesy of Roseana Spangler-Sims Roseana Spangler-Sims and her son, Shawn, on Aug. 30, 2025
At about 5 p.m., Roseana will take anti-nausea medicine to ensure the MAID medication “goes in and stays down,” she says. “I want it to go as quickly as possible. I don’t want the kids to sit here and look at me half dead for too long. I want to be out.”
Roseana’s family have moved a hospital bed onto the deck of the rental home. It sits beside hummingbird feeders and beneath a pine tree overlooking a mountain forest of pine, cedar and fir. She’ll lie there after drinking the solution that will end her life.
Although the time is close, Roseana says she’s not afraid. “I’ve never been a fearful person. That just ain’t in my DNA,” she says. “I do get anxious about everything being okay for these guys” — she gestures to her son Shawn, his wife and her sister, who are sitting nearby, and then takes Shawn’s arm.
Courtesy Roseana Spangler-Sims Spangler-Sims (second from left) with son Shawn, his wife Cindy (at left) and Cindy’s sister Sandi on Aug. 23, 2025
Just as the sun begins to lower in the sky, at about 6 p.m, Roseana will prepare her MAID medication — a combination of sedatives and narcotics that will be mixed with 2 ounces of white grape juice.
She’s created a playlist for her send-off. It begins with a jazzy version of “Fly Me to the Moon” sung by actress Nichelle Nichols, who played Lt. Uhura on the original Star Trek series. That’s followed by Jethro Tull’s “Serenade to a Cuckoo,” a song Roseana used to sing to herself while hiking. The list also includes Dave Brubeck, Bob Marley and Earth Wind & Fire, as well as the themes from Star Trek: The Next Generation and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. It ends with a rendition of “Amazing Grace” by flutist Hubert Laws.
Roseana will drink the MAID solution and lie outdoors on the hospital bed, surrounded by her family. She may have a grape popsicle afterward to help soothe any burning sensation from the medicine. Within a few minutes, she’ll begin experiencing “a euphoric feeling,” McClave says.
“I can’t wait to be numb,” Roseana says. “I can’t wait to make my body just melt away. For months and months it’s been constant pain. It will be a relief.”
Courtesy of Roseana Spangler-Sims Roseana Spangler-Sims in California Aug. 30, 2025
McClave adds, “They say the last two senses to go when you die are hearing and touch.” Turning to Roseana’s family, she continues, “You are welcome to climb into bed with her. You’re welcome to hold her hands. And I’m going to encourage you to speak to her and let her know that you guys are going to be okay, because I think that’s going to be the hardest thing for you, Roseana, is leaving them.”
There’s quiet in the room for a moment, and Roseana lays her head on Shawn’s shoulder.
McClave explains what to expect after Roseana takes the medication: Minutes after the drinking the solution, and experiencing the feeling of euphoria, she will slip into a coma. It may take several hours for her to die.
Courtesy Roseana Spangler-Sims Spangler-Sims in Bryce Canyon in 2015
Roseana has planned this for months. She’s given away her possessions. She is donating her body to scientific research at the University of California, San Diego. She’s welcoming an end to her pain. “I feel ready to fade,” she says.
But, she says, what’s ahead is a new chapter, not an end to her story.
“I believe I’m going off to a peaceful plane of existence. It’s like going into another dimension. Hopefully I’ve served the greater good enough that I can get to that peaceful place, what people think of as heaven,” she concludes. “I don’t know if I can communicate with this dimension or not. I’m just looking forward to the adventure. And I want to leave you guys feeling like this is the next thing for me.”
Read the original article on People
