Kimberly MacDougall lay in a hospital bed beside her injured husband, Stephen, as his final moments came. She and their two kids held him as he took his last breath.
Stephen, 45, a service manager for a luxury automobile dealership, had been fighting to live for weeks in May 2021, but stopped struggling. She informed friends on social media that the man she loved, incredibly fit and with no prior health issues, wouldn’t make it.
Outside the window of his intensive care room in Peterborough, Ont., an impromptu group of friends soon gathered to hold a vigil, in love and support.
“I saw things nobody should see and I wasn’t equipped to deal with,” MacDougall remembered four years later. “I watched them use the paddles on him. I watched them bag him.”
A rare adverse reaction to a COVID-19 vaccine left Stephen dead in his prime.
Ross Wightman, a former pilot and realtor, social worker Shannon Dupont, and kindergarten assistant Kayla Pollock also suffered life-altering injuries after their vaccinations.
These four people, and their families, were among millions of Canadians who rolled up their sleeves to get their shots during the pandemic.
For their loved ones, communities and country.
The largest public immunization in Canadian history reduced the spread of deadly disease, saving the lives of thousands of Canadians by mitigating the effects of the virus and reducing emergency room admissions. For most, vaccines slowly brought life back to normal.
But for a small group injured by their shots, life never returned to what it once was.
The government reassured the public that serious side effects were possible, but rare.
There have been 11,702 reports of serious adverse events following a COVID-19 vaccination, according to Health Canada. That’s equal to 0.011 per cent of the 105,015,456 doses administered as of December 2023.
As a way to help, then-prime minister Justin Trudeau announced the Vaccine Injury Support Program (VISP) in December 2020.
The effort, which began six months later, aimed to support people who have been seriously and permanently injured by any Health Canada-authorized vaccine administered in the country on or after Dec. 8, 2020.
Approved claimants could receive lump sum injury or death payouts, ongoing income replacement, and reimbursement of medical expenses.
But instead of the government operating VISP, as is done with similar programs in the United States, the United Kingdom, France, and Germany, Canada elected to outsource the work.
In March 2021, the government hired Raymond Chabot Grant Thornton Consulting Inc. — now called Oxaro Inc. — to administer the program.
The challenges began soon after it launched.
A Global News investigation has uncovered complaints that the program has failed to deliver on its promise of “fair and timely” access to financial support for the injured.
This five-month probe is based on more than 30 interviews with injured and ill people, former VISP workers, and attorneys who allege the effort is being mismanaged, leaving claimants feeling angry, abandoned, uncared for, and even abused.
“They promised to take care of us,” MacDougall added. “They didn’t fulfil their promise.”
This Global News investigation also revealed:
- Oxaro Inc., has received $50.6 million in taxpayer money. $33.7 million has been spent on administrative costs, while injured Canadians received only $16.9 million
- PHAC and Oxaro underestimated the number of injury claims VISP would get, initially predicting 40 per year and then up to 400 valid claims annually. More than 3,000 applications have been filed — of those, 1,700 people are still waiting for their claim to be decided.
- Some injured applicants say they face a revolving door of unreachable VISP case managers and fundraise online to survive.
- Some say their applications were unfairly rejected by doctors they’ve never spoken to or met.
- Despite decades of calls for a vaccine injury support program, the federal government cobbled it together during a pandemic.
As Global News neared publication, a spokesperson for new Liberal Health Minister Marjorie Michel contacted the news organization and provided this statement:
“These allegations are completely unacceptable. The VISP supports people who are vulnerable and need support. I’ve asked PHAC to find a solution that ensures a responsible use of funds and that people receive the support they need. All options are on the table.”
Neither the company nor PHAC were prepared for the surge of claims that arrived, former workers say.
Staff were too few and inexperienced to handle them all, other ex-staffers say.
One said VISP operations were plagued by many “bottlenecks.”
Others described it as “chaos.”
Oxaro and PHAC declined interview requests.
In response to a 15-page list of questions, the company said, “The VISP is a new and demand-based program with an unknown and fluctuating number of applications and appeals submitted by claimants.”
Read the full Oxaro statement HERE.
“The program processes, procedures and staffing were adapted to face the challenges linked to receiving substantially more applications than originally planned,” Oxaro added. “Oxaro and PHAC have been collaborating closely to evaluate how the program can remain agile to handle the workload on hand while respecting budget constraints.”
The complexity of the claims filed can also affect processing timelines, Oxaro said.
PHAC, meanwhile, said it is reviewing Oxaro’s five-year arrangement to administer VISP, which is up for renewal next year.
Read the full PHAC statement HERE.
The agency also wrote that it is weighing “concerns raised by claimants and beneficiaries” and factoring in how other countries managed their respective programs.
Its goal: learn “best practices” elsewhere, and ensure the future Canadian program is delivered “in a fair, efficient and cost-effective manner.”
Don’t talk to Becky Marie Campbell about fair and efficient.
Three weeks after her vaccination in April 2021, Campbell, a B.C. school teacher and mother of four, began to feel numbness in her legs while driving down the highway.
Soon, she was unable to walk and was subsequently hospitalized.
Like several others who became sick after shots, the perfectly healthy and fit Campbell was sent for a psychiatric evaluation when she raised the possibility of a link between her vaccine and illness.
A doctor later determined she was of sound mind.
As she prepared to leave the hospital after a month-long stay, Campbell said a staff member offered her a second vaccine shot. She cried. She left in a wheelchair, looking emaciated.
Campbell then applied to VISP in October 2021.
She racked up $20,000 in debt for treatments, medicines, mobility equipment and physiotherapies during her attempted recovery.
Campbell’s own physician said her shot and illness were “most likely related.”
Unidentified VISP physicians, however, rejected her claim on Sept. 6, 2022.
They said they found “no peer-reviewed medical literature” that suggested a “causal association” between her vaccination and subsequent illness at that time.
When she received the news, Campbell burst into tears: “You didn’t call me, you had no appointment with me,” she said, referring to the panel of three unidentified doctors which VISP hired to evaluate her file.
“They weren’t part of my case at all, and they decided my fate? That’s a little unfair.”
“I believed that living in Canada, I would be taken care of,” Campbell said.
“It wasn’t about the money … It was about receiving support from my country. Instead, I felt I was faceless,” Campbell said. She did not appeal.
Mike Becker understands Campbell’s anger and resentment.
VISP also rejected his application, even though pain and swelling in his leg began immediately following his vaccine shot and got worse every day until he went to the hospital nine days later.
His leg sears with burning pain at night from deep vein thrombosis, commonly known as blood clots.
The condition caused his right leg to swell like a balloon, four inches larger than the left.
He now suffers from dizziness and can no longer work as a carpet and furniture upholstery technician. Becker has had 30 doctor visits since his hospitalization in 2021, and takes blood thinners to avoid death.
Becker said VISP denied him support because his hospital hematologist failed to record his blood platelet levels, which would have confirmed causality between his vaccine and clots.
The VISP report, which included no physicians’ names, acknowledged Becker’s illness came shortly after his vaccination, but concluded the shot was “unlikely” to have caused it.
However, VISP added a caveat: should the medical world’s understanding of such events evolve and new evidence come to light, “this case should be revisited and reconsidered.”
Unlike Campbell, Becker appealed. In November 2022, he informed his VISP case manager and sent in the necessary appeal paperwork.
Nobody then answered his emails for almost two years, he said.
Becker would not let it go.
Finally, a VISP case manager responded by email. She informed him that his case had been mistakenly closed, according to a copy of the correspondence obtained by Global News.
VISP had incorrectly recorded in its computers that there was no appeal, although his case manager knew Becker had appealed and filed the necessary documents.
“I have spoken with my manager and have asked that we fast-track your case so that we can rectify this timelapse of your case,” the new VISP case manager told him in the email.
Eleven months later, he says he’s still waiting.
Becker calls VISP “a big scam.”
“It’s not working to help people injured like me.”
Some experts say things could have turned out differently.
For 40 years, physicians and public health officials in Canada had been calling for a federal, no-fault government vaccine injury support program. All other G7 countries, except Canada, had one.
Among those stressing the need for such a program was Dr. Kumanan Wilson, CEO and Chief Scientific Officer of the Bruyère Health Research Institute. His research focuses on immunization and pandemic preparedness.
Before COVID-19, Dr. Wilson said he had “a frustrating set of discussions” with the federal government. Creating a program, he said, “kept dropping as a priority.”
Dr. Wilson said he warned officials about other countries’ experiences with the programs.
“You don’t want to stand these things up right in the middle of an emergency,” he said, noting it doesn’t typically end well.
Many of VISP’s current woes might have been avoided if only it had begun earlier, Dr. Wilson said.
Kimberly MacDougall of Peterborough, Ont., has never spoken publicly about her husband’s death until now. Her pain and suffering are easily seen on her face.
MacDougall’s husband, Stephen, then 45, died from myopericarditis post-COVID vaccine, leaving her a young widow of two children, then 9 and 12.
She received the maximum death benefit under PHAC guidelines, an amount equal to about three years of Stephen’s salary.
Still, she believes the sum that PHAC and Oxaro paid out is unjustly low. Stephen expected to work 15 or more years in the luxury car business.
He had planned to fund their children’s university educations and was a rising star in his world who was being headhunted.
As a community leader, Stephen had encouraged many people to get vaccinated, but a series of disastrous events followed his immunization: the myopericarditis was a deadly inflammation of both his heart muscle and the lining outside it that claimed him in weeks.
MacDougall plunged into grief and trauma.
A family friend hired lawyer Lori Stoltz to file MacDougall’s VISP claim.
While VISP brochures advertise that the program will “continue to support you for as long as needed,” there was a cut-off time for MacDougall and her kids.
In addition to the death benefit, the program said it would only pay for enough grief therapy to cover weekly sessions for MacDougall and their children for a little over three months.
What’s more, MacDougall said, VISP would only pay $100, roughly half the cost of each visit.
That’s when Stoltz wrote a blistering letter to VISP, saying she was “stunned” by the program’s “apparent institutional indifference” to the young family’s “suffering and need for financial support.”
VISP then conceded it would refund the full cost of each session. But the program dug in — 15 visits only.
“And then my kids are supposed to be fine?” MacDougall said, voice breaking. “I’m supposed to be fine?”
She has been unable to return to work as an elementary school teacher.
MacDougall thinks VISP lacks humanity and is “shameful.”
As she mourned her husband’s death, she explained, a VISP case manager requested she get copies of his autopsy report and death certificate.
“It got to a point where everything was a battle. I didn’t have any fight left in me. And that’s kind of where I’m at, that’s how I’ve moved forward,” MacDougall said. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”
Toronto attorney Jasmine Daya called for a Vaccine Injury Support Program in November 2020, a month before the official government announcement.
Now, she and other attorneys harshly criticize the program. Daya calls it “a sham.”
She says her numerous emails to VISP often only receive generic responses.
“Sometimes those auto emails say, ‘Due to the high volume, we’ll get back to you when we can,’” Daya added. “I want to be able to do my job, which is to help these individuals, and I can’t.”
Victoria lawyer Umar Sheikh also said VISP is “incredibly difficult to deal with,” adding its findings are not necessarily reliable or fair to people, and they take too long.
A VISP brochure and its staff have told applicants that the average claim can take 12 to 18 months to process. But some have waited far longer.
Sheikh is helping several claimants with VISP battles, including Dan Hartman, an Ontario father who lost his 17-year-old son, Sean, in September 2021.
The teenager died alone in his bedroom in the middle of the night.
Dan Hartman suffered emotional shock, taking time off work.
Three physicians from VISP rejected Hartman’s first claim in 2022, denying the father’s assertion that the vaccine was linked to his son’s death.
Initially, a post-mortem examination characterized the cause of death as “unascertained.”
The VISP report noted the post-mortem on Sean’s body found “mild R(ight) and L(eft) ventricular enlargement,” which a pathologist described as “not uncommon in athletic young men.” Sean was a hockey player.
But the heart enlargement led Hartman to believe his son had a rare adverse reaction, so he appealed the VISP decision with new evidence in May 2023 and still waits.
Fed up, Hartman and Sheikh pressed VISP to explain its lengthy delays.
According to an email Global News reviewed, VISP staff replied that they have had trouble finding a forensic pathologist to examine the late Hartman’s tissues.
Revisiting the case may confirm or disprove any causal link between the teen’s vaccination and his death.
In the meantime, medical knowledge of adverse reactions has increased.
Last month, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration told vaccine makers to expand warning labels on COVID-19 vaccines that would spell out the risks of possible heart injuries that afflict males aged 17-26, like Sean Hartman.
Health Canada issued a similar warning for “younger male adults and adolescents” in June 2021.
Still, Hartman waits.
Kayla Pollock waits, too.
After first applying in 2022, Pollock’s VISP application remains stuck in “intake.”
Her injuries have not been assessed, she says.
She uses a wheelchair because of her transverse myelitis, a condition that involves swelling of her spinal cord and the loss of lower body functions. Medical research has documented hundreds of cases of transverse myelitis following COVID vaccination.
As a result of her illness, Kayla is no longer able to work.
She used to be a kindergarten assistant. Now, she receives Ontario disability support.
She lost her townhome. Her son’s father is now his primary caregiver, and she sees their boy only on alternating weekends.
Pollock said things are so bleak for her that she requires personal support workers and has been offered Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID). In the absence of VISP support, she has been raising money online.
“Unfortunately, it costs me more to be alive than if I were dead,” Pollock says.
After waiting for three years, she no longer believes VISP will ever compensate her.
Former pilot and realtor Ross Wightman understands the frustration, anger and desperation of people dealing with the support program.
VISP accepted his injury claims, but Wightman remains enraged. He says he often cannot reach anyone at VISP and has had 10 case managers work on his file.
Wightman, who lives near Kelowna, B.C., was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré syndrome after his vaccination and applied to VISP in 2021. He received $270,000 in indemnities in 2022, becoming one of the first people to be approved.
Guillain-Barré syndrome is a rare neurological disorder that has been linked to COVID-19 vaccinations. The condition causes sudden numbness and muscle weakness when the immune system attacks peripheral nerves.
No longer able to work, Wightman awaits a second reassessment of his injuries.
His wife left her job to care for him and their two young children full-time.
After the one-time injury award, he waited 20 additional months to be approved for a VISP income replacement benefit in 2023. That benefit is capped at $90,000 a year — the maximum for all claimants — though he earned far more as a realtor and former pilot.
Asked about VISP, he likens it to a “dumpster fire.”
“I don’t know how it could be done worse,” added Wightman.
“There have been times where I have thought about not continuing with some of my therapies just because I’m tired of incurring expenses and eating expenses for such a long time.”
Instead, he says the slow pace of financial support forced him, for a time, to turn to the “bank of family.”
Wightman stated at one point that $12,000 in VISP funds were deposited into his bank account, but it took him more than 10 weeks to confirm what that refund was supposed to cover. VISP officials also kept him on tenterhooks for months, waiting for $25,000 in other reimbursements, he added.
“Such poor communication and record-keeping undermine trust in the program and create additional stress for those who depend on it,” added
As a social worker living in Manitoba, Shannon Dupont thought she knew how to help vulnerable people through a crisis. But she, herself, is now lost and alone, battling VISP.
Prior to her vaccine injuries, which occurred after each of her three injections, she had two jobs and made an average of $104,000 a year.
She says her employer mandated that she be vaccinated.
But Dupont suffered a stroke, Bell’s palsy, lost half her field of vision in her left eye and dexterity in her hands. She developed an autoimmune disorder that gave her hives.
In September 2022, the provincial health authority recommended that Dupont receive no further COVID-19 vaccines. She can no longer work.
In her dealings with VISP since 2021, Dupont says she has had nine case managers whose letters, emails and forms cover her entire dining room table.
Two years after she applied, VISP approved her for a one-time $24,294 injury payout.
However, she believes VISP “missed a significant amount of my injury.”
She has since applied for reassessment four times and sought refunds for medical expenses.
Many vaccine-injured people have also asked for their cases to be reconsidered.
VISP now owes her $180,000, Dupont alleges.
As she waited, Dupont says she cashed in her investments and lived on credit cards.
In March, she finally started receiving a VISP income replacement benefit of $3,700 monthly, but her battles continue due to confusion between VISP and her health insurer.
In December, VISP announced the government program would now be her first payor, reversing its initial position.
She says that the insurer now wants her to repay $86,000 — money she says VISP has not paid her.
Years of financial chaos with VISP have left Dupont anxious, overwhelmed, and feeling abused.
“They don’t treat us as human beings,” she said. “It feels like they’re waiting for us to die and then they go away.”
Oxaro declined to comment on any specific cases, saying its claims management process “ensures that all cases are treated fairly and with the same care, respect, and due diligence.”
Oxaro added that its monthly invoices to the government include documents and details, which are all reviewed and approved by PHAC.
PHAC said it “takes the concerns raised by VISP claimants and beneficiaries seriously.”
VISP claimants scoff at the suggestion.
Wightman said all claimants are indeed treated the same: “Badly.”
“I feel like no one cares,” Wightman said. “I don’t think they (the government) have any desire to investigate VISP.”
“I’m expected to live on in a society that doesn’t care about me,” Pollock said.
Related story: Vaccine injury programs elsewhere also face challenges, criticism
NEXT: Inside VISP’s offices – A program in disarray
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