Timmies triage....

In the grand scheme of things I never expected to have those "15 minutes of fame" to deal with.  I expected my life to continue on in much the same vein as it has most of my life;  occasional drama, highs and lows, normal and everyday stuff or perhaps the excitement of some special occurrence.  But sometimes you get caught in a moment you never expected; you end up riding the current and being swept along with nothing to go on and only being able to take one fast paced step after another, literally running in place without seeing what is next just to keep your head above water or be drowned.

On February 28, 2011 it was only the luck of the draw that sent my Mom into the hospital.  She had called the ambulance to take her to the hospital with flu-like symptoms.  The dizziness she was experiencing made her feel so helpless but she still managed to make the call and have them come to get her.  With the help of her niece - my cousin, Lois - the attendants loaded her onto her "granny transport" rolling walker and took her down the elevator to wait in the lobby for the stretcher.  When I got the call that she was in the emergency I flew of the house as fast as I could (leaving my debit card, cash, phone charger and snacks at home) to find her waiting, still on the same stretcher, with the ambulance attendants keeping her spirits as high as they could, flattering her, smiling at her, comforting her and never leaving her side.  Unable to even supply her with a proper pillow, her head was supported by two flannel sheets tucked into a pillow case. My brother and I had to hold up a sheet to give her privacy while they quickly helped her change into a gown, inserted the IV needle and brought her a warmed blanket.  The four of us took turns,  held the bag when she vomited, wiped her chin, held her hand, joked with her and tried to keep her comfortable until the medication nurse brought her a dose of anti nausea medication and something to calm her and help her relax.

With no where else to keep her and the emergency filled to overcrowding (I heard later there were rumours of 100 or more travelling through the emergency that night) the personnel running the shifts was quick enough to make a snap decision to take what they thought were less critical patients and place them in more quiet surroundings;  the Tim Horton's coffee shop located in the Hospital lobby.  I heard the nurses and staff worried about funding cuts, talking about placing patients in otherwise unstaffed areas because they needed care - referred to as "ghost wards" - rather than give them no care at all.  I heard them talking about working hard and having to work harder without the staffing needed to supply all the areas needed, and talked to them about the problem of "burn out" with the overload.  It was frightening. 

The Tim Hortons was quiet, and mom slept in a drug induced doze, snoring gently. I was glad she could get some peace but truly troubled.  The cold bled off the windows and I draped her coat over her feet to keep her from chilling too much.  I started taking pictures of the situation with my mobile phone, even recorded a short video to make a point, but was not able to upload the video and allow others access to the shots.  I did post the photos on my facebook page, and one of the other family members for another patient went outside to speak to television reporters on the conditions our caregivers are forced to work in.

It seemed I was there for a significant amount of time, but after a while they moved my little Mommy from the cold of the Timmies back into a bay in the admitting area;  still in emergency and still among the traffic, but quieter than it was closer to the nurses' station. and she and I sat together with me pulling her blankets around her shoulders, wiping her face, comforting her when she was fretful and letting her know that people were sending good wishes and thinking about her.  She was truly thrilled by each well wish and giggled over the mentioning of friends and family she has loved for so long.  As the medication wore off she began vomiting again and I called the attendant to help her while I held the basin and spoke to her gently.  In the wee, small hours of the night they gave her a dose of different medication to calm her and keep her from being sick again.  This time it was successful.  But by 6:30 when the Tim Horton's opened for business again I had seen myself - front and center - in stills taken by other patients on the Timmies' Triage ward running in a news segment on the televison in the emergency room.  "Dbl Dbl Trouble for RCH"...  Well, the damn place was shut that night and we couldn't even get a coffee!  Mom and I waited until 9 am, with her becoming more worn out as the hours past, until they finally prepped her for a CT scan, and I pointed out to them that one side of her face was "droopy".  After that the situation was handled a little more seriously and the staff reacted in a way that showed they were concerned for the prognosis.  I went to the lobby to make some calls and inform my family of the state things were in (my poor cell phone had died from lack of power the night before, and my car was under lock and key in a blockaded lot across the street), then managed to move my car to another spot and headed back in to continue waiting.  Mom was returned to the Trauma room on the emergency ward - the 4th spot in less than 12 hours - where we waited for the Dr. to give us the news;  it was not good.  Stroke with atypical symptoms (hence the diagnosis that she suffered from the flu), looking at waiting on a swallowing assesment, a chest xray and stabilizing her.  The staff wanted me to go home.  I was told the "cavalry" was being mobilized, and there would be people to spell me off, so I went home to grab a few hours sleep, take care of my dogs, feed myself, send out information to those that needed it, field phone calls, and prepare to do it all over again.

Back to the hospital I went, this time carrying my debit card, a recharged phone (no charger), change in my wallet, and parked in a different lot - after calling in work to say I wasn't coming to close the store tonight  I arrived to find... no one.  Mom was sitting in another bed (the 5th spot in her stay and right next to the noisey nursing station) and on a new oxygen set up.  The phlem she was coughing up had thickened and darkend, and was very difficult to move.  I talked with the staff who made changed that should have made her more comfortable, but she began struggling and trying to remove the mask, saying she couldn't breath.  And then she stopped.  She drifted into a semi coma and made no further complaints, just a few incoherent comments.

I suspect she had another stroke at that point.  Even though the chest xray showed no infection her lungs had been compromised and were shutting down.  The staff did everything in their power to help her, but in the end the last thing they could help with was to give her morphine for the pain and to take away that feeling that she was drowning.  She stopped fighting the machines, stopped fighting to breathe, and as they wheeled her down to what would be her 6th and final spot in the hospital she breathed shallower and shallower until she wasn't breathing any more at all.  I held her in my arms, kissed her, and as I stroked her arms my brain recognized the shape of my own hands in hers, the lenght of my forearms and the size of the muscle structure,  the height of my cheekbones and the depth of my eye sockets in her face.  I am my Mother's daughter.  And I'm just as stubborn, just as pragmatic, just as strong, and just as weary of the unneeded drama that affects my life from the outside.  Come by it honestly, and have no intention of changing it at this time in my life.

The damn story has gone viral on the internet now... it's all over the world and so it should be.  Our government has allowed the infrastructure that supports our medical system to come perilously close to collapsing.  The only problem is, every time I hear them on the news, every time I see my Mother's smiling face on the TV, every time I catch a glimpse of myself in a still shot I am back in the Timmies Triage waiting for them to take care of my Mother.... but they can't anymore, because she's gone.  And I cry.  And cry....

I know that my role in this is to remember, so remember I will.  I need to make sure this NEVER happens to someone else.  Spread the word.  I didn't want this particular 15 minutes of fame and I would give it back to hold my Mom in my arms one more time.  But you don't get a do-over very often, and I don't think there would have been any other outcome, but I would have wanted her to have the dignity she was denied, the comfort they were unable to give, and had a diagnosis sooner through quicker care so she could have had those last moments with more of the family.

More than anything, I would like the world to remember; one day this may be you....