‘Ron did this for the people he loved. He did this for us’
Before he died, Ron Cutting said he wanted his death to be used to let people know assisted dying is an option
KITCHENER — The day started like any other for Ron Cutting and Jessie Maniatacos.
Ron, up early as always, poured Jessie’s orange juice and coffee, and then she joined him for a breakfast of toast with homemade jam and fresh fruit.
It was Ron’s last day — and both knew it.
When cancer spread to Ron’s bones and treatment was no longer an option, he decided on a medically assisted death. Ron didn’t want to become incapacitated and a burden on his family. He wanted to decide when he would go.
A peace came with that decision, for Ron and his family.
“Yes, it was very hard. But it was also very comforting,” Jessie said. “It was on his terms.”
Ron grew up in Hespeler, serving as an air force pilot for 26 years before becoming a police officer in Cambridge and then a respiratory therapist.
He was active and fit in retirement, looking at least a decade younger than his 83 years. His morning routine included lifting 25-pound weights.
Ron savoured food and home-cooking and never stayed up late.
“He was a good man, he really was,” Jessie said.
The pair married in 2002, a second marriage for her and third for Ron, and soon Jessie’s daughter Sia and grandchildren Jacob and Caroline became his own.
Jessie said Ron took care of everybody, and without hesitation spent money on anybody but himself. Whatever the grandchildren needed, he made sure they got it.
Ron was also a “very, very proud person,” Jessie said.
He had successfully fought prostate cancer in the late 1990s.
When the cancer returned, in bones throughout his body, the treatment wasn’t as successful. He started chemotherapy in early 2017, but the side-effects were too great, with little benefit. The focus turned to keeping Ron comfortable.
He had a good autumn, but by Christmas he wasn’t doing well and doctors had nothing more to offer.
Early in the new year, Ron decided to pick the day he would die — comfortably at home and surrounded by the people he loved.
Jessie understood.
“He was losing his dignity. He was more dependent on me. He hated that,” she said. “He was alive, but he was not living.” The date was set: April 9. Before he died, Ron asked Jessie to be an advocate and let other people know assisted death is an option.
Most of the people she talks to about Ron’s assisted death are not aware it is an available choice.
Jessie lost brothers to cancer and “they just withered away.” She feels fortunate Ron didn’t have to go through that.
But as the date approached, Ron’s health declined rapidly and he became very worried his death would not go ahead as planned.
The law requires a patient must consent again immediately before the drugs are taken, which means they can’t rely on advanced medical directives, or have someone consent on their behalf. That’s a stipulation Jessie would like to see changed.
“He was petrified because he could have a stroke and this would not happen,” she said.
Anxious, Ron moved the date up by two weeks.
“I think it’s very brave,” Jessie said. “Ron did this for the people he loved. He did this for us.”
Daughter Sia said moving the date ahead was a bit of a relief because counting the days had been horrible.
The day before, Ron was feeling remarkably well. Vibrant, even. Sia joked they had trouble keeping up with him as they took a trip down memory lane that morning.
They went to his childhood neighbourhood and, from the vantage of a bridge, Ron pointed out the spot on the river where he anchored his raft to hang out and read comic books.
“Ron was very much at peace,” Jessie said.
Then it was the day. Monday, March 26.
“It was just very relaxed,” Jessie said. “Almost like any other day.”
After breakfast, the couple sat together in the living room. Jessie asked if there was anything else Ron wanted to talk about.
But pretty much everything was already looked after. Details were settled and Ron had said his goodbyes.
He told close friends and family ahead about his plan, although he hesitated to tell the grandchildren because he worried about their reaction.
“He was able to tell everybody what he wanted to before he passed,” Jessie said.
Together they had planned the celebration of his life, and Ron joked he was annoyed to miss the good spread at the gathering.
Jessie admitted the morning was tough for her. She focused on being strong and holding back the tears because she didn’t want Ron to doubt his decision.
“I tried to just keep everything together,” she said.
Ron emailed and spoke on the phone with family. Sia was there along with close family friend Michelle when the doctors and nurse arrived at noon.
They set up in the living room, putting an armchair by the window for Ron and another in front for him to put up his feet. He settled in with his favourite ugly brown blanket and Jessie held his hand.
“I had put a pillow behind his head.”
The medical team explained what they were doing and what to expect as the drug was administered.
Ron smiled and went to sleep. Then he was gone.
His body was lifted out of the chair and placed on a gurney, which was taken to the van discretely backed into the home’s garage.
The couple hadn’t balked at