"HELP ME!" — He Begged

Mr. D Final Words.

Jun 04, 2026

The family of Mr. D had gathered at his home to be with him when he died. He was 87 years old. He had congestive heart failure. He had gone through the assessments, signed the paperwork, and chosen a date. His children were there and the MAID killer arrived. The first drug went in.

Midazolam is a sedative. In most cases it produces the kind of deep unconsciousness that makes what follows unfelt and unremembered. In rare cases, but still cases exist it produces the opposite, the body stiffens, the heart rate climbs, and instead of drifting toward sleep, the patient surfaces into agitation.

That is what happened to Mr. D.

His family watched his face while the drug moved through him. They watched him groan. They watched him grimace. They watched him guard against something he could feel, his muscles tensing against it and then they heard him say “help me.”

They heard him say it again.

“HELP ME!”

The word that appears in the coroner’s case review, obtained by National Post, is “escalated.” His behavioural signs of distress escalated to repeated verbalizations, including “help me,” that continued until sedation was achieved with propofol and a comatose state was confirmed.

He died. His children went home carrying that. Sanctuary trauma, survivors guilt and the horrific reality that they just watched the worst case possible. Personally, I believe they witnessed a murder.

The case review notes that the family asked for one thing. That their father’s death be shared with the broader MAID community, so that providers would discuss potential adverse effects with patients before proceeding, and have contingency plans in place for what might go wrong.

Not accountability. Not consequences. Just that the next family might be warned. Bradley Stewart had watched his father die badly and believed there was a better way to go.

He was 67, diagnosed with liver cancer, a man who had worked for the same company for 47 years and spent his summers at the barbecue at the local museum’s car show in Beachville, Ontario. He collapsed on a Sunday after doing exactly that. He told his brothers he thought this might be it.

Three days later, Dr. James MacLean came to the house. Bradley was surrounded by his siblings, by family, by the three chihuahuas who had been perched on his bed through the illness. MacLean opened his kit.

The third drug wasn’t there. The neuromuscular blocker, the drug that paralyzes the muscles and stops the lungs — was missing. You know the paralytic CAMAP say’s Canada doesn’t use? The one they write article’s calling me a liar about. James MacLean had grabbed a backup kit, and a new one he’d ordered hadn’t been ready when he stopped at the pharmacy.

He injected what he had. He listened for a heartbeat. He pronounced Bradley Stewart dead and left the house.

Bradley Stewart started breathing. Yes, breathing. James failed to properly murder his victim.

His sister’s daughter found Cathy Stewart-Mott in the kitchen. “Uncle Brad isn’t gone,” she said. “He’s breathing.”

James MacLean was called back. He returned, administered more poison including the drug he’d arrived without, and Bradley died for the second time. He had to have known his victim wouldn’t die, but he did it anyway.

When James MacLean walked back in, his sister Tracey Townsend recalled, “He said something to the effect of, ‘Wow, this has never happened to me before. He’s still breathing?’”

“There was shock,” Stewart-Mott said. “There was numbness. People tried to remove themselves from it. ‘Maybe this didn’t happen.’ This is what a trained killer sounds like. Townsend took months off work to recover. “Going through MAID and losing somebody twice in a matter of a couple of hours,” she said. “Too much.”

When the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario investigated James MacLean for the Stewart case, and separately for assessing another MAID patient outside a Tim Hortons they found serious concerns with his practice. He was not brought before a disciplinary hearing. He agreed to a minimum of six months of clinical supervision and other voluntary undertakings.

He is still practising in London, Ontario at Westmount Family Practice with his wife. He is still doing MAID, he is still killing. “They had the ability to suspend his doing MAID,” Stewart-Mott said, “but never went down that road.”

In November 2025, Dr. Stefanie Green, co-founder of CAMAP the Canadian Association of MAID Assessors and Providers gave an interview to Chatelaine magazine.

“The patient feels nothing other than comfort and sleep. There is no gasping, there is no choking, there is no coughing. It’s a peaceful, comfortable witnessed death.”

This is what happen’s when killers make money killing, they lie and say whatever it takes to convince people it’s ok to watch there loved one die at the hands of a “Doctor.”

A 2022 study of more than 3,500 MAID deaths found complications in 1.2 percent of cases. In 2024, more than 16,000 Canadians died by MAID. At 1.2 percent, that is nearly 200 families. 200 hundred people who believed their murder would be peaceful.

The researchers who conducted that study noted that one complication in particular consciousness caused by insufficient anesthetic may not be captured in the data at all. There is no mechanism to detect whether someone was aware during their own death if they cannot say so afterward, and if the signs go unrecognized in the room.

This is what happens, because the DEAD DON’T TALK.

KELSI SHEREN

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