Part of my wife’s many medications included slow-release morphine capsules and morphine sulphate liquid, the latter of which she used when her pain became difficult for her to bear. Our GP had prescribed her 4 litres of morphine sulphate a month, and my wife was able to manage her pain levels with that amount.
However, in February of this year, the medical profession in all its wisdom decided that no-one should be on more than X mg of morphine a day (I can’t recall what the actual value was), because supposedly a person’s pain receptors didn’t react beyond X mg. Over a period of a few weeks, my wife’s morphine sulphate was reduced from 4 litres a month to 2 litres, and I could only watch helplessly as her pain levels increased to a point where she could no longer manage them. My wife began to hoard her morphine, keeping it only for use when her pain was excruciating, and I knew she was suffering so much more.
My wife said to me two or three times over the following months “Perhaps when I’m dead they’ll realise what they did to me.” I didn’t really think much about her comments at the time, I thought she was just trying to emphasise how much more pain she was in as a result. But perhaps she new more than she was telling me.
I was talking to a friend a few weeks ago, and she asked me if I thought the Covid situation had made matters worse. I hadn’t thought much about it up to that point, but the more I did think, the more I came to believe that my wife’s passing was hastened as a direct result of the government’s actions on Covid, and the medical profession’s action on reducing morphine availability. Our GP used to visit my wife at home every 2 or 3 weeks, but she hadn’t been able to see a GP since January of this year. I am so sad and angry about the circumstances of my wife’s passing because of these contributory factors, but I don’t have the energy to start raging about it. I just wish I could roll back the months and have done some things differently.