The incoming head of the Canadian Medical Association is reportedly saying that the thinking around euthanizing the sick and dying is "evolving." I'm not sure how deciding to kill sick people could be called "evolving" but maybe I'm un-evolved. You notice, nobody in power changes their mind anymore. They evolve. Even if it seems the opposite of evolving.

The B.C. Catholic reports:

"What I am sensing is that thinking is evolving quite rapidly around this issue right now, and it may change," Dr. Louis Hugo Francescutti told Postmedia's Sharon Kirkey Aug. 17.

"More [doctors] want to have the discussion," Francescutti told her. "And as more people start having the discussion they start comparing what's happening right now, either in their own practice or within their institutions."

Euthanasia Prevention Coalition (EPC) executive director Alex Schadenberg said he found Kirkey's article "misleading." He noted this article and others in the Mainstream Media (MSM) do not bother to contact those on the opposite side of the issue such as EPC or Canadians with Disabilities.

"They are acting like it's a done deal," said Schadenberg. The articles treat euthanasia "as if it is simply turning off medical treatment," he said. There is a big difference between discontinuing futile treatment and "giving someone a lethal injection."

Here's the thing. Euthanasia is here. We're not talking theoretically about some dark day in an Orwellian future. It's happening now. Everywhere. Even in Catholic hospitals.

I can tell you from experience that old people are being overdosed to death on a regular basis. The terminally ill are constantly being starved. For their own good.

The only "evolving" going on is that now we're actually going to talk about it publicly. That's because when they say "evolved" they mean they've been doing this for years so now you regular people are finally "evolved" enough to hear the truth.

I remember when my father suffered a heart attack. They didn't know what was going on with him but the hospital, a Catholic one mind you, just saw an old man in a bed. I saw my father.

We told the doctors that our father had a "touch of emphysema." Well, that was it. He was dosed with morphine and asleep for days. We asked the medical staff what was going on and they said this is how "end stage emphysema goes." End stage? The man had just walked home two miles from the mechanic two days before and worked on the pool the rest of the day. But they didn't listen. You see, they knew better. They were evolved.

They came to us the next night and said we should all gather around because it was likely he was going to pass that night. How did they know this? His numbers had been exactly the same the entire time he'd been in. But you see, they did know. They knew he was going to die because they were going to kill him. And we were completely ignorant of what was going on.

Finally, my mother told the doctors that if her husband was going to die she wanted him taken off all the drugs they were giving him. She said if he was going to die he was going to die fighting it, not asleep.

They argued. Oh, how they argued. But my mother was adamant. One nurse scolded my mother and told her she was "cruel." That night we all prayed in the chapel for a miracle. And we got one. My father didn't die that night. We sat by his bedside and in the morning he started waking up. He signaled to us that he wanted the breathing tube taken out. We all went down the hall to discuss it for a few minutes with the doctor. When we came back in my father was unconscious again. A nurse had come in when we walked out of the room and dosed him with morphine again despite our specific requests. This is the nurse who scolded my mother. You see, she was evolved and she lectured my mother.

We knew then that one of us had to stand guard by our father every second of the day. (Thank goodness for large families.) Think about that. We had to guard over my father like he was surrounded by predators. And we were in a Catholic hospital.

After a while my father was awake and we had his breathing tube taken out a few days later. And the first chance we got we had him transferred out of that hospital. My father lived five more years and they were the healthiest years he'd had in decades. He gave up smoking. He exercised often and got to spend precious time with his ever increasing brood of grandchildren. I still remember as we walked out of that hospital I told a family who we saw often in the hallways to get their father out of that hospital as soon as they could. I hope they did. But I'm not sure there's many places to transfer to anymore. I think death dealing is common practice most places nowadays. It's funny, all this evolving we've been doing lately seems an awful lot like spiraling.