AT 12. This letter and this number designate the location of the emergency room isolation cubicle where my father was admitted on July 12th. He had COVID-19. It is therefore normal that we isolated him.
Posted at 2:00 p.m.
He developed pulmonary complications. The doctor then tells us that he will stay in the hospital so that his condition can be monitored, which, according to him, could go one way or the other. My daughter and I expected the worst, but we still had a glimmer of hope for him.
During the morning of July 14, my daughter went to his bedside. I joined her around noon. My father was conscious, but had great difficulty breathing. My daughter rang the call bell. After 15 minutes, seeing that no one showed up, she decided to cancel the call. These were the most difficult and the most beautiful minutes of our lives.
We each held a hand while trying to breathe for him. Suddenly, his eyes turned to the sky and he took his last breath. His hands released our grip.
Despite our great pain, we were happy to be with him until the end. Which was not the case when my mother, also suffering from COVID-19, housed in a CHSLD, was forbidden the presence of her relatives. It was the order of the time.
Forty-five minutes later, I called a member of staff to tell him of my dad’s death. She offered me her condolences. Two and a half hours later, after saying goodbye to him, we decided to leave. Well, believe it or not, no staff member, not even the doctor, deigned to enter the cubicle to verify our claims that the gentleman from A-12 was indeed dead!
I chose not to name the hospital, but this kind of situation could occur in any hospital center in Quebec, places where staff have been overwhelmed since well before the pandemic. Besides, the A-12 patient was old. Dying at 98 becomes normal. I would even say that it is commonplace in a hospital where, for lack of personnel, we practice neither more nor less than bush medicine.
That said, I don’t wish anyone to be the A-12. In writing this text, I may be thinking that decision-makers will be sensitive to the distress that is being experienced in our health network. Network that is no longer the envy of others. Distress experienced daily by staff, patients and their families.