Contracting COVID-19 radically changed Tracey Thompson’s life. It has been more than two years since the initial infection, but her symptoms still dictate her days, leaving her with great fatigue, depriving her of energy and her ability to work.
Thompson, a Toronto resident in her 50s, says persistent illness and a lack of substantial financial support have prompted her to begin the process of applying for Medical assistance when dying (MAiD), a procedure that was first legalized in Canada in 2016.
“[MAiD] it is exclusively a financial consideration,” he told CTV News Toronto.
After 26 months of losing income since the onset of symptoms, with no foreseeable ability to work and no support, Thompson said he expects to run out of money in about five months.
“My options are basically to die slowly and painfully, or quickly. Those are the options that remain,” she said.
In addition to severe fatigue, Thompson lists a number of symptoms he has developed from prolonged COVID: He can no longer read books or send text messages longer than a Tweet. Her vision usually begins to cloud around sunset. She has a hard time digesting food. Her taste and smell have been altered. Some days, the exchange of oxygen in her lungs is compromised, making it difficult to breathe. Scars mark her heart from the inflammation she experienced due to myocarditis.
A year after Thompson fell ill, Revised MAiD legislation in Canada. Previously, only those whose natural death was reasonably foreseeable, also known as Track One patients, were eligible to apply for MAiD. For example, terminally ill patients.
the amended legislation March 2021 has seen the creation of a Track Two patient. Now, a Canadian suffering from a “intolerable” and “irreversible” Illness, disease or disability that may not be near the natural end of their lives may also qualify for assisted dying.
The most recent Canada Health Data shows that 7,595 Canadians chose physician-assisted deaths in 2020, representing 2.5 percent of the country’s deaths. This marks a more than 34 percent increase over the previous year.
However, in 2020, only patients who had a reasonably foreseeable death were eligible for MAiD. Since then, the potential pool of applicants has grown substantially.
‘WITHOUT CURE’
Before Thompson contracted COVID-19, he was working as a chef in Toronto.
His job consisted of long hours filled with quick decisions and physical exertion. Now, she says deciding to stand up and fill a glass with water can bring her day to a standstill.
“From being physically able and having a job to basically being bedridden. I can’t get up on average for more than 20 hours. I have very little ability to expend energy physically, mentally and emotionally, so I try to stay home all the time,” she said.
It’s not that Thompson wants to die. In fact, he still treasures life’s little bursts of joy.
“I am very happy to be alive. I still enjoy life. The song of the birds, the little things that make up a day are still pleasant to me, they are still pleasant. I still enjoy my friends,” she said.
“There is much to enjoy in life, even if it is small.”
However, he believes he won’t survive a world where Thompson can’t afford an income.
“I don’t like the idea of suffering for months to come to the same conclusion. When support doesn’t come, things aren’t going to change,” she said.
“It seems irrational to go through that only to die at the end.”
Since Thompson’s disease is not clearly defined in the Ontario Disability Support Program (ODSP), which currently awards a single applicant a maximum amount of $1,169 per month, she believes it could take years to qualify, something many Ontarians who have applied for the program say is not uncommon. Even if Thompson qualified, she says the full amount of monthly support would, at best, cover her rent.
“That would be my entire living budget,” he said.
So far, Thompson has sought a doctor’s approval for MAiD and is awaiting a response from a second specialist. To be considered, an applicant needs two independent physicians or nurse practitioners to confirm that she meets the criteria. That goes along with a written request from MAiD signed by the person requesting it.
The applicant has until the time prior to the procedure to withdraw consent. Ultimately, once the criteria are met, the decision is in your hands.
While Thompson is still working through the necessary steps, he is confident he will get approval.
“As far as I know, it would meet the criteria. I’m very sick.”
“There is no treatment. There is no cure. You don’t have to be terminally ill,” she said.
‘A DIFFERENT LIFE’
While Thompson is currently eligible for MAiD, there is a new cohort of Canadians who will be able to apply in a matter of months.
As of March 17, 2023, applicants with a mental illness as your only underlying medical condition you will qualify for MAiD in Canada.
Mitchell Tremblay has already written his letter for your consideration.
Mitchell Tremblay has written his medically assisted (provided) death request letter. “Since I was 18 years old, I’ve been in the system,” Tremblay, now 39, told CTV News Toronto. “I have never had roots. I’ve never had a chance to heal.”
At age 17, he received a series of mental health diagnoses, including post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), generalized anxiety, and major depressive disorder.
The following year, a couple of days before his eighteenth birthday, his parents kicked him out of the house.
“My parents didn’t believe any of that,” he said. “If the help had been there, I would have had a completely different life.”
For nearly 15 years, Tremblay has been with ODSP. At first, he said that the approximate $1,000 was enough to live on. With incremental change since then, he said that he can barely survive.
“I’m basically living on the same amount since 2008,” he said. “I’ve been homeless so many times I can’t keep count.”
Looking back, Tremblay said that if he had had financial and emotional support, even just 10 years ago, he could have had an “absolutely different life”.
“REGLETELY INADEQUATE”
Dr. Naheed Dosani, a Toronto palliative care physician and health equity leader at Kensington Health, said many people who choose to follow MAiD after the recent review do so to ease their suffering.
But it can be difficult to dissect the root of suffering, he says.
“One of the things that becomes very difficult to unravel is when suffering is related to people not having shelter and food and how that is so difficult to separate from suffering related to a medical condition,” he said.
“My concern is that we are creating a situation where it is easier for people to choose death from MAiD than to choose to live well, because society does not offer them adequate access to money, housing, food security and social support. Dosani added. .
Lack of affordable housing and financial support alone does not qualify a patient for assisted dying, but Dr. Stefanie Green, a MAiD practitioner in Victoria, BC, said such complexities can contribute to a person’s suffering.
“Suffering is one of the elements required for MAiD eligibility, so it’s impossible to rule these issues out when evaluating someone,” he said.
As a MAiD practitioner, Green said it’s part of her job to assess the issues that contribute to a person’s suffering and strive to seek out, inform and make available the limited resources that exist.
“Our health system is woefully inadequate to serve our population with these resources,” Green said. “But I don’t think we can hold these patients hostage.”
There are circumstances when assisted dying is appropriate, said Dr. Harriette Van Spall, a physician in Hamilton, Ontario. involved in MAiD research. “But when it comes down to socioeconomic status, living conditions, loneliness or symptom control that can be addressed, it’s pretty tragic that people have to choose MAiD,” she said.
Van Spall said part of the problem is that society has become transactional to the point where we see some lives as more valuable than others.
“We have to be careful not to enforce laws that inadvertently help people end their lives because they don’t feel valued or respected or that they don’t belong,” he said.
As Thompson moves toward assisted dying, she says she is aware of how MAiD and access to assisted dying intersect with marginalized groups in society.
“The government as a body is telling people that they are willing to help them to death because they don’t have enough money to live with dignity. That’s a pretty clear signal to me that unless you’re physically or mentally capable enough to work for profit, then you have no place here,” Thompson said.
“That seems very clear to me.”