When I arrived, John was finishing his breakfast in bed, like an English aristocrat with contagious good humor.
He’s English, by the way. Aristocrat? I doubt.
His shirt was unbuttoned, he was in his underwear.
His bed: a hospital bed installed between the kitchen and the living room.
The apartment at the top of an apartment tower was bathed in sunshine on this recent, cold Friday morning.
John laughed every two sentences, made everyone laugh, especially Colette, his girlfriend.
In short, I liked it immediately.
And the subject of cancer immediately imposed itself: the metastases, the weakness of his legs, the pressure drops and this new drug, enfortumab vedotin, “known to be effective for cancer” that he had…
PHOTO MARTIN CHAMBERLAND, THE PRESS
Suffering from cancer, John benefits from the services of the NPO Nova home care.
John buttoned up his shirt as he struggled to get up. You still have to stay active, he explained to me, if only to fight muscle atrophy.
“Every day I try to walk. Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t have pants! But I’m not going to reveal my family jewels to you! »
He said “family jewels” with emphasis, mischievous, with his accent british.
I laughed. I didn’t expect to laugh that morning, to tell you the truth…
“I like your humor, John…
– It must ! »
PHOTO MARTIN CHAMBERLAND, THE PRESS
John and Magalie Chartrand, beneficiary attendant at Nova home care
Magalie approached to help John take a few steps. Magalie Chartrand is the beneficiary attendant of the NPO Nova home care. John explains to me that he was entitled to six hours of care per week in his apartment until very recently. It has just increased to 12, which Magalie shares with another attendant, Valérie Martineau.
The idea of this home care, rejoices John, is also to give respite to Colette.
“She takes a lot of loads, since I have been sick, for two years. There comes a time when it can be stressful for Colette. Having periods of her own, where she can leave, is good…”
John explains to me by showing me his table of drugs that Magalie gives him with the help of the Nova nurses, among other treatments. She helps him with the bath. She helps him move, as John tries to go out for a walk as often as possible. He then relies on Magalie. He confides in her, too:
“I can talk to him about my sores without feeling…”
John is looking for his words, and it is Colette who gives him the right one:
“Complainer, John.
– Yes, complainer, that’s it! Finally, it feels good to talk with Magalie. »
Magalie intervenes: “It’s good when patients can confide in someone who isn’t family. Sometimes it avoids worrying the family. »
When John looks at the oncologist’s report, there are these words: “Terminal patient. But John doesn’t feel terminal. Reduced, yes. Sick, of course…
“But I choose to see life as a terminal activity,” laughs John.
PHOTO MARTIN CHAMBERLAND, THE PRESS
John knows he is lucky to be able to stay at home with his girlfriend Colette.
An angel passes, then he adds: “I have no pain, it allows me to look at death with peace of mind. »
John told me about his life. Born in Morocco, to a British diplomat father. When he was young, he lived in Spain. He speaks Spanish, a little Catalan, Arabic. French comes to him from the French high school, from vacations in France in his youth and from a French wife with whom he lived in Mexico, before moving to Toronto.
The love of his life is Colette, whom he met in Montreal at the beginning of the millennium. Him, John, the British globetrotter; Colette, the daughter of the Lake: “It makes a nice mix”, he laughs, again.
They met thanks to the other love of his life, music (the girlfriend of a cellist friend felt that John and Colette would get along well… she was right).
PHOTO MARTIN CHAMBERLAND, THE PRESS
John gently strums the strings of his flamenco guitar: “I can’t play it anymore, I’ve lost my dexterity. »
“Coming to live in Montreal, says John, it’s one of the best decisions of my life. Come, I want to show you something…”
He leads me to a side room and shows me his flamenco guitar, bought in 1960 in Madrid, still magnificent. He takes it in his hands: “I can’t play it anymore, I’ve lost my dexterity. »
A word about Nova Home Care. It is one of the many NPOs that support “the network” with limited means. Moreover, it is always the CLSCs that refer families to (almost all) free care from Nova, which covers three CIUSSSs in the west of Montreal.
Last year, 500 people received home care thanks to Nova’s five nurses and ten attendants. Palliative care, but not only. Nova also offers respite for caregivers of sick people. The idea, of course, is to treat people where they are most comfortable, at home, tells me Anne-Sophie Schlader, general manager.
The DD Geneviève Dechêne, founder of the CLSC de Verdun palliative care program – a model of its kind – has been a member of Nova’s board of directors for ten years. It was in the field that Nova appeared on the radar of this doctor who has been fighting for years for Quebec to take the turn of home care: “The CLSC itself cannot provide on demand, says her, it is thanks to Nova that my patients never lack care. »
Net result, notes the DD Dechêne: the home care provided by Nova’s caregivers avoids many – and costly – trips and hospital stays.
Nova Home Care annual budget: $1.6 million per year, mostly from private donations, large foundations. Public funding? Minimal: Nova received a first discretionary check from the Ministry of Health this year: $25,000, notes Anne-Sophie Schlader.
PHOTO MARTIN CHAMBERLAND, THE PRESS
Magalie Chartrand helps John in many ways, including listening to him.
In addition to providing relief to patients and caregivers, Nova trains nurses throughout Quebec through the Palliative Home Care Mentoring Program, funded by the Quebec Blue Cross. “There’s still a long way to go when it comes to palliative care at home: it’s not well known, so it can be intimidating,” says Ms.me Schlader.
This program has trained 350 nurses in palliative care throughout Quebec. The cohorts of the winter-spring sessions are also full, a sign that “the needs are there”, according to the CEO of Nova.
“How old are you, John?” »
Now seated on the sofa in the living room, he replies: “79 years old”, before adding:
” Three score years and ten…
– Excuse me, John?
– It’s in the Bible, it was the nominal duration of human life: 70 years. So, for me, at 79, it’s a gift from God. »
PHOTO MARTIN CHAMBERLAND, THE PRESS
Colette and John talk openly about death. She will come, he knows it and Colette too. When ? Not immediately. It’s all about perspective, he says, smirking.
He measures his luck, he, the-patient-in-the-terminal-phase.
I’m at home, I’m with Colette. I talk to my children, to my grandchildren on the internet. I’m not in the hospital, or in a residence, with old people: I’m still 12 years old in my head!
John
Two weeks after we met, I called John. I had a title in mind, I found it beautiful, but I wondered if John, on reading his Presswould find it beautiful…
“I was going to title ‘A Beautiful Death’, John. How would you like it? »
An angel passed, again.
PHOTO MARTIN CHAMBERLAND, THE PRESS
John sees death with tranquility.
“My feeling is that I’m not afraid of death. But this title gives the idea that death is something negative…”
I thought – quickly, quickly – then I had this flash:
“Towards a beautiful death, John?”
– Wait… ”
Muted, I heard John ask his girlfriend what she thought of the title. I heard the “Yes” from Colette. John came back on the line:
“So, let’s go with ‘Vers une belle mort’. It seems to me that it says that life is a journey towards death…”
Bon voyage, John.