Grey’s Anatomy it Ain’t

With all of the negative discussion surrounding the state of hospitals in Canada it is hard to see any bright light. Hospitals are understaffed and therefore the waiting rooms are backed up beyond belief, leaving many people to spend hours there with minor (and sometimes not so minor) injuries. We hear these stories all the time. I’d like to share mine and maybe shed a little ray of hope here in Kingston.

This past Sunday I traveled to visit my family in Burlington to celebrate my grandmother’s birthday. It was a long trip to do in a day but I never miss it and I wasn’t going to start this year. I arrived in time to help prepare the brunch and was assigned the job of bagel cutter. I should have known better. I’m a violinist so I really shouldn’t be taking on jobs that require me to be cutting things for long periods of time (because, truthfully, I’m also a bit accident prone). On the final bagel (of course) I managed to slice through my pinky finger. It was not pretty. After racing around the house for bandaids and getting it all wrapped up, I chose to stay for the meal before heading the hospital, which is conveniently located down the street from my parents’ place. I knew I’d be there for a good two hours or so but I figured it was better than going all the way back to Kingston. Boy, was I wrong.

As soon as I set foot in the emergency waiting room, I knew I was in for a long haul. I checked in with a very surly looking nurse who had no interest in really knowing what was wrong. She took my health card and told me to sit down. I asked her how long she thought it might be and she said “an hour or two”. This made me hopeful. I didn’t think it could be such a short wait with all the people there but she is the triage nurse, she knows.

After two hours I was called to the registration desk where they took all my info and was told to wait some more until they could call me to “fast track” where you are supposedly looked after within 50 minutes (it said so right on the sign outside so it must be true!). Another hour and a half passed before I was granted the right to sit in that waiting room. By this time my dad had returned with water and a snack for me because the only source of food at the hospital was a vending machine full of junk food and a Tim Horton’s that only takes cash. There was no bank machine or change machine to be found. I wasn’t prepared for a day at the hospital so all I had was plastic in my pocket. I couldn’t even get a drink of water during the 5.5 hours I was there.

After another long wait, I was finally called into the fast track room and given a little curtained-in area to continue reading my 2-year-old magazines. 20 minutes passed, still no doctor, 40 minutes…still no doctor….an hour and half later and still no doctor. There was, however, a woman who looked like she could do something (she was wearing scrubs after all) but all she did was make calls to see where the doctor was and check her hotmail account. This is when I gave up. It was almost 9pm at this point and I had been there since about 3:30. Frustrated, hungry and a bit scared (this finger is really important to me!), I decided to drive back to Kingston.

On the way out, dad had to pay $9 ($9!!!) to get out of the parking lot. You can’t even drop a patient off there without paying. Oh, did I mention the name of the hospital? Joseph Brant in Burlington, on the Lakeshore. That’s Joseph Brant, you may have heard of them.

I arrived back in K-town at midnight and decided to make a trip to KGH and try my luck there. From the second I turned into the emergency lane off King St., I knew I was in a better situation. I parked right outside the emerg door – for free – and walked in to be greeted by a nurse immediately. There were a few people waiting for triage ahead of me but I was still seen within 20 minutes of being there. Here’s where the big difference was, it was more than me handing over a health card and being told to sit. The nurse sat me down and talked to me. She could see that I was upset (I was at the end of my rope by this time, a crashing headache, hunger and complete exhaustion had set in – not to mention the realization that I wouldn’t be playing in the next symphony concert). She understood where I was coming from and gave me the most honest answers and advice I could ask for. She told me I would be waiting at least three hours to get my stitches and that I was better off going home and getting some sleep. She looked at my finger and wrapped it up for me and assured me that it would heal on its own. She was sensitive to the fact that I use my hands for work and was fearful that I would have permanent damage. She took the time.

Although hospitals all over Canada are in dire straits these days and lacking doctors and nurses, there is no reason for them to lack compassion. I know they are overworked and tired but this line of work is one where, sorry, you have to suck it up. People are coming to them desperate, scared and in pain. The bedside manner of my nurse and the other nurse on duty at KGH was so much better than in Burlington. They really gave patients a sense that they cared about what happened to us and understood that each problem, no matter how minor, was important to each individual. In addition to the wonderful staff, the hospital itself was much nicer. It was cleaner than JB, far more welcoming with its fresh coat of paint and enough chairs for everyone and had new magazines and televisions for waiting patients and their families.

I am shocked that a place like Burlington would have such lack luster facilities. For the amount of money that is spent on music festivals, the water front, the new theatre and so much more, one can only assume that basic necessities like a hospital would already be accounted for.

I know that was a long tale and I appreciate you sticking it out to the end. The point of my story is, that although Canadian hospitals are in trouble, there are some wonderful doctors and nurses out there who are ready to help with compassion and understanding. I am immensely proud of Kingston right now and I want to say a special thank you to Nurse Sue who made my horrible day a whole lot nicer by taking a few minutes to help me. A little time can go a long, long way.

Oh, and the finger is still healing, I won’t know the outcome for a week but I am confident that I’ll be fiddling on St. Pat’s.