Ryan O'Neal Was Secretly Investigated for Elder Abuse After Ordering Doctor to End Farrah Fawcett's Life

“I believe that his raging narcism demanded that Farrah know that he was the one who was finally in her charge of her life.

“But even if he was just careless, he still subjected Farrah to mentally cruelty. Because she did not know that she was going to die until that very moment.

“Farrah had never been told that she was terminal because Alana Stewart and the German doctors made a pact to keep this ‘horrible secret’ from her — this, in spite of Farrah's repeated instructions that she wanted to know the truth about her prognosis so she could stop the paralyzing and debilitating treatments and enjoy the quality of whatever life that she had left.”

The following is an extract from the manuscript:

Alana disclosed her betrayal in My Journey with Farrah, her $39.95 tell-all diary that went on sale just three days after her best friend’s funeral. Actually, the book wasn’t so much a “tell-all” as much as a “tell-all-the-world-except-Farrah.” Because once Alana got over her initial shock that these doctors had not been “completely truthful” with Farrah, she decided not to be either. “I feel like I’m a harboring a horrible secret . . .” she confessed in the pages of her mini opus. But in spite of any guilt that Alana may or, more likely, may not have felt, she saw no reason why Farrah should ever know her true prognosis. This, despite the fact that Farrah had repeatedly asked for the truth. Indeed, she demanded it. Because there were things that she wanted to do -- things that she needed to do -- that is, if she was going to die. Farrah was also adamant that she would forgo the regiment of procedures that were painful to the point of paralyzing so she could enjoy the quality of whatever life she had left.

Of course, Alana was aware of all this and still didn’t tell Farrah that it was only a matter of time. Although I suspect that she told Ryan because he slipped up by referring to Farrah’s video diary as her “eulogy” in one of his early efforts to take control of our project. However, those attempts failed because Farrah was still more than strong enough to shut him down. And that’s exactly what she did. And in no uncertain terms. Including assigning me not only the right but also the responsibility to finish the documentary should she become incapacitated. Or worse. And she did so in writing which was not a secret to Ryan, Alana or the others who would conspire to take control of the film.

So, Ryan and Alana had to wait almost a full year before Farrah took the unexpected turn that the two of them expected her to take. And that’s when she was given new and legally invalid “agreements” to hastily scribble and even misspell her name on while drugged and disoriented -- at least according to an eyewitness inside her condo who had already told me much more. And would go on to tell me much worse. But prior to her inevitable decline, Farrah’s trusted doctors continued to give her those debilitating treatments while Alana continued to give her false hope.

In a second extract, Nevius explains:

My motivation in making the call was not to report the wrongful takeover of the company that Farrah and I owned or the hijacking of our documentary. Those were matters that I had already filed a civil lawsuit over. Instead, my motivation was to protect Farrah herself. Because the man who publicly professed to be the love of her life had supposedly ordered her life to end for a reason that he described as vanity: “It’s time for her to go.” Ryan purportedly told Farrah’s doctor. “She’s been an international beauty.” he continued. “She would not want to be seen like this by anyone.” Ryan concluded.

Now whether Ryan gave this instruction to the doctor inside the I.C.U. or out in the hall, I remain unclear on. But what was made clear to me was that Farrah was holding on and Ryan was ready to move on. So he brashly repeated some version of his previous directive, this in spite of the fact that Farrah was lying awake in her hospital bed just a few feet away. And although she could no longer speak, she was fully capable of hearing what was being talked about. And argued about. So when the doctor responded with some further considerations that needed to be considered before making this final decision final, Ryan became even more agitated and impatient than he normally was. It was then that a friend of Farrah’s made the mistake of gently trying to calm him down. “You shut up!” he growled. As this hubbub continued, Alana looked down into Farrah’s open eyes and saw what she described as “fear.”

Even though Farrah had a life-long faith in God and His Promise of the Better World That Awaits, she still found herself frightened of death. Would she feel pain? Certainly, she would feel the heartbreak of leaving everyone and everything she loved behind. But I imagine what scared Farrah the most at that moment was hearing this innately angry and violent man give the order to end her life when no one had ever told her that her life was coming to an end to begin with. Apparently, even Alana objected to this ill-considered conversation taking place inside the hospital room rather than out in the hallway and away from Farrah. But Ryan did not want to be told what to do, much less where to do it, by anyone and lashed out at Alana for what I viewed as her uncharacteristic show of humanity.

Despite the infighting, I’m confident that the doctor acted reasonably and humanely when he obeyed Ryan’s order and instructed the nurses to begin withholding nourishment from Farrah. Based on what I had been told over the last three months, not to mention Ryan and Alana’s brazen behavior during that period, it was clear that Farrah was not going to make it. But she should have been spared the extreme mental cruelty of learning that she was going to die by being forced to listen to the decision to hasten her death – all while lying there, unable to speak or move, essentially a prisoner in her own body. If all of this was accurate it went far beyond simple insensitivity. In fact, I believe that Ryan knew exactly what he was doing and that he purposely gave the order in front of Farrah. Because he had never been able to control her life, Ryan needed to control Farrah’s death. And, like a true sociopath, it seemed as though he wanted her to know that he was the one who was making this final and irreversible decision. As sick as that sounds, Ryan was sick. And I don’t say that with any malice. I truly believe that he had been mentally ill for decades. But his abhorrent behavior was always excused because he was a Hollywood “bad boy.” He was as handsome as he was charming as he was funny. And he was also box office. So all of that permitted him to do whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted. Narcissism was the only explanation I could come up with for why he would insistently speak of letting Farrah die right in front of her. But my concern was not limited to what seemed to be his intentional infliction of mental cruelty. Farrah had purposely and pointedly left Ryan out of her living trust because she did not want him t inherit her assets or have any control of her affairs. In fact, Farrah had told me that she had assigned her father the authority to make her healthcare decisions if she became incapacitated. And this was more than two years earlier. Now whether Farrah actually put this in writing, I couldn’t say for sure. And I have no idea if the doctor was aware of her intent. How- ever, Ryan had acknowledged his lack of authority over Farrah on The Today Show. “I kind of wish she would go to sleep, just go to sleep.” he whispered repeatedly, sounding as though he was reading a bedtime story to a child. But then Ryan caught himself and somewhat hesitantly, almost wistfully, admitted: “It’s not my right but . . .”

But that’s only what he said in public.

Behind the closed doors of the I.C.U., Ryan acted as if he was somehow entitled to end Farrah’s life. Of course, it was possible that he had procured some sort of medical power of attorney from her while she was under the influence of Dilaudid or some other disorienting drug. After all, Ryan, with the help of the sycophants around him, had already succeeded in obtaining Farrah’s scrawled signature on a single piece of paper that purported to be her “Delegation of Rights.” This scant two paragraph document empowered both Ryan and his longtime business manager to take control of our company and re-edit the documentary in whatever way he saw fit. And if there was a similarly signed document granting Ryan the authority to make Farrah’s healthcare decisions, I couldn’t imagine he looked at it as anything more than a bothersome formality, one which was only necessary to satisfy any legal concerns that the hospital might have in terms of recognizing his conservatorship over Farrah. Because as far as Ryan was concerned, nothing could have been simpler or clearer: she belonged to him.

However, the truth is Farrah and Ryan were not a love story. She had spent more than thirty years refusing to marry this man, even choosing to give birth to their child out of wedlock instead of walking down the aisle with him. But even more telling, the two of them hadn’t lived together since their acrimonious break-up more than a decade earlier. From that point on, most of their “relationship” was spent warring over their son: specifically, Farrah’s belief that Ryan enabled, if not participated in, Redmond’s drug use. And so, while the public rightfully admired Farrah for the bravery and dignity with which she faced her illness, very few people knew how heroic this woman truly was during the last three years of her life. Farrah wasn’t just fighting for her own survival, she was fighting for the survival of her son. She was fighting cancer and Ryan O’Neal.

In the end, however, Ryan won. He finally got the control over Farrah that he had always wanted.“ It’s time for her to go.” And with those six words, her organs began to slowly shut down, one after another, over a three day period until, finaly, on June 25th 2009, at 9:28 in the morning, she passed away.

The two detectives standing in my doorway offered me their condolences as I showed them into the living room and offered them something to drink. They politely declined as one of them took out a microcassette recorder and set it on the coffee table. They had a lot of questions about the report that I had made to their superior. And rightfully so. I mean, how could I possibly know what transpired in Farrah’s hospital room if I wasn’t there?

As I explained to them, the entire horrifying scene was recounted to me by a friend of Farrah’s who was present in the I.C.U. What’s more, it was confirmed just minutes later when I accidentally overheard that friend’s cell phone conversation with the doctor while I remained on the open land line. The purpose of the doctor’s call seemed to be to defend Ryan against Alana’s criticism. I wrote down as much of this disturbing exchange as I could on the back of an old screenplay as I was hearing it. After the call ended, I typed up my chicken scratch and emailed both versions of this slapdash transcript to myself and my attorneys in order to have an AOL time and date stamp on the information.

This was not the first time I felt compelled to utilize the equivalent of the “Poor Man’s Copyright.” When I was a beginning writer I often used this simple practice of mailing my written work to myself so that the post office would essentially act as a witness of its creation by stamping the date and time on the envelope. And I would do this via email many more times over the coming months and even years to document what I knew and when I knew it in terms of Farrah and her affairs.

So that first phone call, along with my inadvertent eavesdropping of the second, accounted for how I knew the information that I had reported. Of course, it also explained my dream that morning. Knowing Ryan had stopped Farrah’s nourishment, my subconscious mind conjured up the transitory image of my friend reaching out to say goodbye to me from her hospital bed.

The detectives seemed satisfied with my answer but asked me to send them a copy of my email notes for verification. But in the meantime, they had many more questions. So, over the next two hours, I spoke into that recorder and told them the story of how I had become guardian to a fallen angel but how, in the end, I was unable to stop the taking of Farrah Fawcett . . .