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Personal Stories | April 2, 2026 | Dying With Dignity Canada
John Maloney was approved for MAID and had his provision on Friday, March 27, 2026. John wanted to share his story with as many people as possible. Before his death, John spoke with DWDC about his life and death. This blog post is based on that conversation.
For John Maloney, the path to medical assistance in dying (MAID) was not sudden or impulsive. It was the result of decades of living with complex health challenges and a long process of reflection, research, and assessment.
The 54-year-old Edmonton native shared he spent more than two decades working with children in treatment homes. It was work he described as deeply meaningful. Later, he returned to school to complete a master’s degree focused on leadership and became certified in mindfulness and somatic coaching. “I think I’m a fun person,” he said with a smile. “I think I’m a pretty intelligent person. And I loved working with kids.”
Over the years, John said his health was becoming increasingly complicated, impacting work and personal life. He was born with congenital cataracts and lost vision in one eye as a child after an injury. Later, glaucoma began slowly taking sight from his remaining eye. By 2021, John said he had completely lost functional vision. He described himself as functionally blind. “I can still see light and colour,” he explained to DWDC, “but I don’t use my eyes anymore to do things.”
Losing his sight was only part of John’s story. As his vision declined, John said he began experiencing constant visual hallucinations consistent with Charles Bonnet syndrome, a condition sometimes experienced by people who have lost their sight. John described it as the brain, no longer receiving clear visual input, begins to fill in images on its own.
“The visual cortex can’t interpret things properly anymore,” John explained. “So it fills in things. Right now, when I look around, I can see scenery in my head…things moving. But there’s no sound. It’s not psychosis.”
John described the hallucinations as constant and exhausting. “When I wake up in the morning, maybe I get five or ten seconds of normal,” he said. “Then the hallucinations start.”
On top of that, John said he lived with diabetes, Hashimoto’s disease, a chronic thyroid condition, and lifelong insomnia and stressed that over time, those conditions compounded one another. “Each illness feeds into the other,” he said. “Individually, maybe they’re manageable. But together they create what I call the perfect storm.”
For years, John said he tried different treatments, medications, and coping techniques. He estimated he spent hundreds of hours researching his medical conditions and possible options.
Eventually, after multiple suicide attempts and years of worsening symptoms, he began searching for another path. “It was never about wanting to die,” John said. “It was about wanting the suffering to stop.”
Because his death was not reasonably foreseeable, John applied for MAID under what is known as Track 2. John stressed that the process was far from simple. He said he underwent multiple assessments by different clinicians. Two others ultimately determined that he met the legal criteria.
“The idea that this is something doctors approve easily just isn’t true,” John stressed. “My assessors thought deeply about it. One told me he never makes his decision the same day as the assessment. He reflects on everything first. It’s a legal process with strict safeguards,” added John. “People can’t just access it willy-nilly.”
For John, the experience of being approved brought an unexpected feeling. “When I got the final approval call, it was like a load lifted off my shoulders,” he shared. “It sounds strange, but it felt like I could live again for a while.”
That sense of control was deeply meaningful for John after years of illness that left him feeling powerless. “I can’t control my hallucinations. I couldn’t control losing my sight. I couldn’t control my blood sugar even with medication. But this is one decision I get to make.”
During our conversation, John shared that he knew his decision was difficult for some of the people in his life. A few friends have struggled with it, and some relationships have changed. John said he had others remain supportive even if they don’t agree, and he was grateful for that. “I don’t expect everyone to agree,” he said. “But this is my decision. It’s about my life and my suffering.”
For him, MAID represented something more than the end of life. “It’s not about death. It’s about ending suffering.”
It also allowed him to approach the end of his life in a way that is consistent with his values. “I can go out on my own terms,” John said. “With my mind clear. With dignity.”
John explored the possibility of organ donation and ultimately was approved for donation. “If something in my body can help someone else live, that would be incredible,”
As he thinks about his journey and the reason for sharing his story, John said he hopes his story prompts people to learn more about MAID before forming opinions.
“Do your research with an open mind,” he said. “Feelings aren’t facts. You need to understand the process.”
Most of all, he hopes people remember that every MAID decision is profoundly personal.
“What one person can tolerate might not be tolerable for someone else,” he shared. “We all have different experiences.”
For John, after more than 50 years of managing illness, his choice feels clear. “I’ve tried,” he said quietly. “Now I just want peace.”
John was a strong supporter of MAID and others having the same access for assessment for MAID that he did, particularly under Track 2. Recent proposed legislation in Alberta would prohibit access for Track 2 MAID for people like John. To learn more about how this legislation will impact Albertans and to join others in voicing their concern click HERE.
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