There can be few things more frustrating for a journalist than waiting for a story to happen. So has it been these past few weeks as Pope John Paul II's health rapidly deteriorated before his death last night.

We knew it was going to happen. We were as ready as we could be - the obituary prepared, the archive material sourced, related stories written, the plan for reaction to his death being refined further and further to make sure our response was as smooth and comprehensive as possible. The only thing holding us back was one very poorly old man.

Indeed, my 10.5 year career at the BBC has been defined, in part, by the Pope's health.

From virtually my first day with the Corporation helping to organise the biggest ever Songs of Praise, I was aware of John Paul's failing health, and the Pope Kit that was passed earnestly from one week's producer to the next.

But he pulled through all the scares and survived.

And when I joined BBC News Online, the Pope was still there, and we were still waiting for him to die.

So it came as a relief when, just before 9pm BST last night, word finally came of his passing.

If this sounds uncompassionate, please don't think of me as unfeeling.

I didn't agree with what he believed, the doctrines he preached which were informed by those beliefs, or the subjugation of people and their rights that came about as a result of his teachings.

Despite the fact that his works led or aspired to much good (an end to poverty, the end of the deeply corrupt Communist bloc, the betterment of the developing world, and more), they also perpetuated many wrongs (overpopulation, disease, poverty again, suppression of women, etc.)

So neither did I consider his place in society nor the unquestioning faith and devotion he inspired in hundreds of millions to be well founded.

But my greatest problem was with the fact that this frail, confused old man was not allowed to withdraw from the public eye when the Parkinson's disease and related illnesses finally proved insurmountable, nor did it seem he wished to. Instead he lived his final days tending a flock who demanded the presence of the same shepherd who'd looked after them for almost 30 years.

Instead of being able to retire gracefully and die in dignity, the whole world witnessed the debilitating disease take a man of undoubtable charisma and character and turn him into little better than a freak show or just more reality programming.

And for that I blame the intransigence of the Catholic Church.

Too often people of faith mistake piety and devotion for morality and compassion.

Coming from a follower of an alternative belief system (that there is no supernatural higher power, nothing holy, no afterlife, no grand plan), that shouldn't come as a surprise.

I realise that I have no place to tell others that what they believe is wrong, just as others cannot deny me what I believe to be true. The problems only start when people tell each other that they're wrong.

However, the reality is that a great many people, whether Catholic or not, are mourning the loss of a spiritual leader. And it's a hard man who'd fail to feel compassion or sympathy at a time such as this.

But the Italians have a saying: morto un papa, se ne fa un altro (when one pope is dead, they make another one).

For the sake of the man, Karol Wojtyla, rather than Pope John Paul II, I think it's a shame they didn't remember that a little sooner.

For despite all the garb, the ceremonial robes, the scriptures and tradition, this was just a human being, flesh and blood, breathing his last.

He should have been allowed to rest in peace.