John Mykytyshyn suffered a catastrophic health incident in late May. John and I have known each other for more than 30 years, having met when he was part of the crew that won Mike Harris two consecutive majority governments during Ontario’s Common Sense Revolution years. He’s been active in politics at all levels ever since.
When I got to the hospital in Hamilton to see John, I was beyond shocked. There he was, in a coma that would last for 30 days, with myriad tubes coming out of his body (I later learned there were 17 different IVs). I felt sure John and I would never speak again. He looked as if he could die at any moment.
He’d undergone triple bypass heart surgery, but doctors had also taken half of his bowel. His lungs weren’t working. He was on dialysis 24/7 because his kidneys and liver were also on the fritz. They’d put paddles on John three times to defibrillate him and bring him back to life. The bowel resection and open-heart surgery left him with a big wound on his belly. And if all that weren’t enough, he picked up a case of Clostridioides difficile infection (better known as c difficile) while in hospital. In short, his health had abandoned him. It looked like there was no road back.
This past weekend, John was allowed out of the hospital for a day to attend his son’s wedding. How that happened is a story nothing short of miraculous.
John helps organize something called the Conservative Leadership Foundation, which meets annually in hopes of helping young, up-and-coming conservatives deepen their interest in politics. It’s like boot camp for political junkies, and it is John's pride and joy. As he was organizing this year’s event, he started feeling a heaviness in his chest. It persisted for a few weeks, but there were no shooting pains or heartburn — so he declined to see a doctor. The conference needed organizing.
Mykytyshyn with CLF contributor and columnist Tasha Kheiriddin. (Steve Paikin)
John now knows that was a huge mistake.
“I’m disappointed that I acted like a typical male,” he told me in a phone call last week, one I assumed we’d never have. “I regret that.”
John regretted it even more when he saw a high school chum of his in the same hospital, who’d also had heart bypass surgery, and was discharged just a few days later. “If I’d gone right away, I might have been out in a week,” he says.
The change in John has been quite astonishing. He entered hospital at 290 pounds but lost 100 while in a coma. When he finally came out, he met his surgeon, shook his hand, and said: “Thank you for my life. I was told I had a 20 per cent chance to survive.”
The doctor responded: “Actually, no one thought you were going to make it.”
Recently, John was approved for rehabilitation services, so he’s now walking around the ward to try to learn how to move again. His muscles had atrophied significantly.
“I want to get back to being ‘that guy,’” he now says. “But I don’t know if it’ll happen. The coma complicated things. My body forgot how to do certain things. My mobility is better now, but I do feel weak and shaky. Every day is like Groundhog Day. I wake up and feel a little better than the previous day, but it doesn’t last.”
Over the years when John and I would get together, we’d dive deep into politics. Now he says, “This is the longest period in 35 years where I’m not on top of politics.”
And yet, even while fighting for his life, he changes the subject. “We need municipal election law reform,” he says, and I start laughing to myself that we’ve reverted to form. “We need school board reform. Why are there different rules for different municipalities, such as when you’re allowed to put election signs up? And shouldn’t we have uniformity when it comes to electing regional chairs?”
I felt like telling the big lug to shut the hell up and focus on his health, but then, talking politics probably serves that function with John.
“For two weeks, I felt like every breath I took, I was going to gag to death,” he says. “My voice is coming back from having those feeding and breathing tubes down my throat. But I don’t sound the same.”
John has learned a lot during his hospital stay, particularly about the state of Ontario’s health-care system.
“I’m ready to march with nurses and health-care workers now,” he says. “I have a newfound respect for health-care professionals.”
“They don’t have adequate staff or supplies. The staff are overburdened. They’re always running out of supplies like lotion or wipes. I will say how surprised I am that the food is so good.”
John is still a long way from being his old self. He’ll likely lose several toes that have become necrotic. He takes 24 pills every day. But he worked his butt off for three weeks, trying to build endurance so he could attend his youngest kid’s wedding last Sunday in Sparta, just south of London. It was a game-day decision. When he woke up, he felt good enough to go. So, he did. And it was wonderful.
Mykytyshyn made it to his son's wedding
“The wedding gave me a goal to focus on,” he says. “Almost no one thought I’d make it. But the day was magical. Perfect weather, great setting, and intimate. If there was something to live for, this was it.”
To say that John is grateful to be alive is the understatement of the century. His three kids and two sisters have been godsends, advocating for him in hospital, and his fellow Common Sense Revolutionary Alister Campbell has been visiting and sending reports to all his friends. John particularly counted his blessings when he learned that a friend of his, 10 years his junior, just had the same triple bypass surgery, but didn’t make it.
My hunch is, once he gets out of hospital, the health minister and the premier are going to hear from this staunch conservative about how they’re not doing enough to improve health care. And given what he’s just been through, I wouldn’t want to tangle with this guy.
Mykytyshyn will be on a mission for better health care, and this:
“I want to be well enough to play with future grandkids!”
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