#53 – The Quadriptych of Death, Part Two: Dirty Cradle, Living Grave

Way, way, way the fuck back in post #10 I mentioned the obnoxious tendency towards blaming parts of the country for failures of the whole country. It’s an annoying-ass trait that certainly contributes to Canada’s no-can’t-do attitude, but the other side of the coin hides some lethal disparities. Cakers love to point to the high life expectancy of Canadians as a good thing, even though I personally cannot imagine why anyone would want to live longer here. We’re going to talk about the disparity in Canadian life expectancy, and then we’re going to mention some statistics about the sad consequences of that much-vaunted life expectancy figure. Expect a lot of unhappy stories about nursing homes, folks.

(S) Because this is a sad state of affairs, here are some feel-better bunnies

Statscan can’t provide a decent answer because apparently digital infrastructure from the 1990s is totally appropriate for a national data collection service, but the average I’m getting here is that a newborn baby in Canada will, on average, make it to 81.8 years old before cacking it. Unless, of course, you are a male Inuit – in that case, you get to live to be 64 years old, a number which is actually in line with the average in fucking Ethiopia. Non-Inuit Indigenous males have the incredible honor of living to age 74, which is about as long a life as one could expect in that Mecca of longevity, El Salvador.  Frankly, any kind of comparison to Ethiopia in terms of raw numbers kind of does my work for me. But here’s the typical caker reaction: blame the blue guys, disregard the fact that Liberal regimes have existed since the 1960s, which is where life expectancies for some are still mired. Did I mention that Indigenous in Alberta are actually losing ground on life expectancy? Because that’s a good sign, right? Ignore the details, highlight the big number!

And here’s where that bit about post #10 comes back. When anyone has a totally minor problem with the fact that a country that calls itself developed boasts life expectancies on par with a country that fought a several-decade long civil war, the usual apologisms about it being hard to take care of people comes up. You’d think that we’d be good at provision of care in distant places by now, but that would assume that cakers gave a shit about anything more than blaming underclasses for their systemic woes.

Here’s the next rub: do you even want to live that long in Canada? In a country with nearly six million elderly people, 750,000 suffered abuse in 2015. For those keeping score at home, that means you have a one-in-eight shot of ending your life in Canada as a punching bag or a glorified bank account. Far worse, you become a victim of caker business preying on the last pensions that will ever exist in this sham of a country. How bad does it get? How about wrapping people in fucking garbage bags so they don’t make a mess of their bed? Or you could be like Arthur Ross, who died a “13th century death” with a stage-four ulcer. Oh yeah, and that wouldn’t be the last time bedsores killed someone under the care of caker business.

To be honest, I’m going to keep my powder dry (because nursing homes will absolutely be under the gun later on. But I think I’ve made the point I wanted to. Even if you can get old here, the prospect of living between a failed healthcare system, a built environment designed to eventually force you into isolation as your ability to drive a car fades, and the possibility of being abused and neglected as you slowly die under the aegis of the worst kinds of caker businesses doesn’t exactly leave you with high hopes as to the quality of those years. If it sucks to live a long time, why do we celebrate the life expectancy rate?

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