Mike Sloan died today at 1:25 p.m.
He opted for MAID, medically assisted death, and left this world peacefully with his friend, Bob, holding his hand while his cat snuggled nearby.
He was sad for his cat, whom he loved unconditionally. He worried about that damned cat and that is why Mike opted to die at home instead of in hospice.
He said the other day that hospice wasn't an option because they didn't allow cats or beer. I told him, I knew for a fact, they allowed beer.
I brought my friend a 40 pounder of vodka when she was delivered to hospice, all eighty pounds of her. He liked that story.
Mike Sloan was the bravest man I never knew.
I didn't know him at all. Never shared a beer with him, never met him for coffee.
That's because, like thousands of Canadians, I only knew Mike from Twitter.
And I'd only seen him in person when he was on television after he became a reality sensation.
After he discovered that he was dying of Anaplastic thyroid cancer last year, Mike decided not to get treatment and live his life on his own terms. The docs gave him months; he survived nearly a year.
Right until this week, Mike could be found at the bar sipping a beer somewhere in London, Ontario, sharing stories with friends in a hoarse voice, trying to put food into his gullet down a throat that was ravaged by cancer.
He puked in public, and shat himself, but generally had a good time.
All he really wanted was a few beers and a stiff cock.
And his cat.
Not too much to ask for, in the end.
We learned a lot about end of life care from Mike.
It wasn't pretty.
The health care system is not equipped to deal with a person living on his own, with only a virtual support system. The pharmacy kept fucking up his meds, especially at the end, and caregivers didn't bother showing up when he needed them most.
Meds disappeared. People were yelling.
Instead of giving him comfort, the morons send to help him frightened him.
That is no way to die.
Mike didn't have money for expensive end of life care so he just lived his life normally, buoyed by the kindness of strangers he met online.
I was sad this afternoon when I saw the posting.
I wondered about his cat.
I hoped that his last day was spent with a beer that went down smooth.
He didn't say.
His last post was "Just stay tuned...no big deal."
Bob said his last words were "tell Chub I love him."
So long, Mike.
You were a helluva guy.
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