“i don’t even know what i am right now.”
this, from a friend whose father was lying on a bed in the hallway of a toronto emergency department, waiting for care for what was thought to be a kidney stone. i had called to see how things were going.
“when this is done,” he said through angry clenched teeth, after describing his 80-year-old dad, who also has lung cancer, mumbling on his phone, barely coherent because of the morphine given to manage his pain, “there are going to be so many holes exposed in our health system, and someone has to be accountable.”
his father had been in the hospital for seven hours — alone because, as with most emergency rooms during covid-19, caregivers are not allowed. his jumbled requests for something to eat and drink were refused in case he was to have surgery. when an er nurse woke his wife at 4am (4am!) to let her know he had been discharged and needed to be picked up, he hadn’t had surgery, hadn’t eaten, and he was still in a ton of pain.
like a stuck record, the stories of the many ways healthcare is failing those who need it the most have been playing over and over every day since the pandemic began.
we saw it first in our
long-term care homes
, then, in delayed surgeries and again in
cancelled procedures
to treat cancer. it didn’t take long to realize that there was an epic landslide underway, and patients were quickly being pulled under.