Medical assistance in dying needs some serious fixing
Let me say at the outset that I’ve had a great life. I have three wonderful daughters, a business that I’m passionate about and a circle of friends second to none.
But like pretty much everyone I know, I haven’t had a pain-free life. In fact, the most painful day of my life wasn’t that long ago.
It was about five years ago that I noticed something odd about my wife, Andrea. She always put her best foot forward — always well organized and well dressed, looking beautiful and happy. But on this day, I noticed during a meal that she was unaware that she repeatedly had salad dressing dripping from the corner of her mouth. That seemed odd and out of character for her.
We were both deeply concerned so Andrea got checked out in the Oakville Trafalgar Hospital. On Aug. 24, 2017 — a day I’ll never forget — we got the news: Andrea had glioblastoma — an aggressive brain cancer. Her doctor told us she had about six months to live. That was the most painful day of my life.
Andrea was a trooper. She’d been a nurse for 30 years so she understood all too well the disease she was fighting. She was determined to give it her all to live as long and as dignified a life as possible. She truly believed she’d ultimately win her fight over this cancer, part of the lucky one or two per cent who do, and she used every ounce of her strength and knowledge, leaving no stone unturned, to try to make that happen.
Only one week after her first visible symptom, the day she underwent her craniotomy, she couldn’t walk or smile properly or use her left hand. She did chemo. She had radiation. She dramatically changed her diet and was adamant about getting the rest she needed, so she could fight the cancer with all her strength and positive energy. She wanted as much time as possible to watch her girls grow.
In the end, the cancer won. But I’d like to think that the rest of us were pretty victorious as well. Andrea lasted not the six months of her original diagnosis, but four and a half years, having endured three surgeries along the way. It was truly a blessing to have so much more time with her than we were initially led to believe was possible.
As Andrea’s condition worsened, she was determined to die on her own terms and so together we investigated MAID — medical assistance in dying. Rather than have her waste away in unconsciousness, she wanted to be in control of the timing of her death. We all respected and supported her choice. After all, she’d worked a great part of her career in hospital intensive care units. She’d witnessed too much pain and suffering of patients and their families and wanted to avoid as much of it as possible. She also understood the difference between those who were sick and would eventually get better, and those who were destined never to get better.
Two years ago, in November 2020, we completed all the paperwork, witnessed by four people, including her lawyer and her talented team of medical professionals. Andrea wanted to be able to spare me and the girls, her sister’s family and her two healthy parents from watching her die over a protracted period of time with no quality of life. She clearly pointed out in that document that when her four specific, chosen conditions exist it is time to exercise the MAID option.
That day eventually came. Andrea slipped into a coma and, consistent with her wishes, I presented the paperwork to the doctor to begin the process of ending her life on her terms now that her four listed conditions were met. The reaction I got was unexpected. He told me he couldn’t approve Andrea’s right to die on that day because, on that day, she wasn’t of sound mind — non compos mentis is the official Latin I couldn’t understand what was happening. Having followed all the proper procedures, we wanted Andrea to be able to die when she wanted to die. And she wanted to die on a bad day when she was unconscious, not on a good day when she was awake and still somewhat able to enjoy her family’s visits at her hospital bed.
Our doctor at Oakville Trafalgar was sympathetic, but said his hands were tied. “There’s just nothing I can do about this,” he said. “We have rules to follow, and we can’t make this fit the criteria.”
I think Parliament showed real leadership in 2016 by agreeing to pass a medical assistance in dying law in the first place. But I also think it makes no sense to insist on the patient being awake and aware on the last day of their life if they’ve already made their instructions plain for all to see. And Andrea had clearly done just that.
Why couldn’t we have had one more good day with Andrea if she had it in her? Why couldn’t we have undertaken MAID on a day when she was unconscious, thus not depriving us all of one last good day as a family when she was conscious?
I’ve thought a lot about this over the past year and still don’t have a good answer. And I don’t think our lawmakers do either. It’s time for Parliament to change MAID so we don’t have to give up any of the final precious interactive moments we have left with our loved ones.