They don't inject "large" amounts of morphine. They subcutaneously administer a calculated dose that is a measured amount to remove pain. If there is agitation, then midazolam is used.
A syringe driver does not hasten death. It reduces symptoms. Administering an amount that would cause respiratory depression, especially deliberately, is manslaughter.
DOI - doctor with a special interest in palliative care, worked in a hospice for several years, prescribed hundreds, if not thousands of syringe drivers
Yup. If only it did/they could! My wife's uncle passed away last year, after a severe frontal ischaemic stroke during dialysis. The doctors basically said he wouldn't have much time left even without the stroke, and although recovery from the stroke *was* possible to a degree, it'd take 2 years he didn't have anyway. After a conversation with my wife (his NOK) they withdrew all fluids and food, inserted a syringe driver with 10mg midazolam/24h, morphine (and later oxycodone) and various drugs to dry secretions. For everyone else, those are called anticipatory drugs and they're definitely a decent halfway house between nothing and euthanasia. They topped him up (PRN) for the first day while the driver took full effect, as he was occasionally waking and becoming agitated.
We had several 'quiet words' with his consultant and palliative nurse (who was fantastic, btw). He was suffering, he had zero chances of recovery and perhaps those doses might need... topping up a bit to make him more comfortable? The reply was 'absolutely not', and basically he'll die when he dies. It took four and a half days in the end, but he was at least sedated and comfortable. We got chance to say goodbye, sit with him and once he passed to lay him out and clean him etc (though short of full final offices, for probably obvious reasons).
Personally, in that situation I don't see any meaningful difference between we relatives sitting next to his unconscious body for 20 hours a day (literally) for five days awaiting the inevitable, and him being given a different medication once that final decision was made on day 1. If I was in his position, or suffering a painful and terminal disease, I'd certainly welcome the option to be relived of my suffering. Having sat with him for that final five days, as well as nursing a young (30s) relative with grade IV glioblastoma multiforme and a relative who effectively slowly drowned in terror due to lung cancer, I think it's cruel not to.
For anyone interested, US-based hospice nurse Hadley Vlahos has a brilliant book called 'The In-Between', all about her journey into hospice nursing with stores of multiple patients and how hospice and death really works. It's fantastic, not at all morbid, and I can highly recommend it to anyone - we're all going to die one day.