Remember at the start of the pandemic, when old people were dropping like flies? Remember that cynical speech back then? “Ah, we know, they are ‘only’ old people. If they were children, in emergency rooms, we would be much more alarmed, much more united. We would be much more careful…”
Well no, finally. We don’t pay more attention.
And yet, it is an unprecedented crisis that is hitting pediatric emergencies in Quebec. It’s been going on for weeks. We will forgive you for not having fully realized it yet: so far, we cannot say that the health authorities have gone to great lengths to warn us.
The DD Guylaine Larose, she knows too well the extent of the crisis; she lives it every day.
I have been an emergency physician at Sainte-Justine for 18 years. I have never seen a situation like this.
DD Guylaine Larose, emergency pediatrician at CHU Sainte-Justine
She has never seen emergencies that are so overflowing. Never seen so many children in respiratory distress. Babies who “pull”, who “dig”, who literally seek their air, their eyes filled with anguish.
She has never seen so many exhausted doctors and nurses, so many distraught parents.
“In pediatric emergencies, it’s a bit like our March 2020”, recently told Radio-Canada Dr.r Esli Osmanlliu, specialist in pediatric emergency medicine at the Montreal Children’s Hospital.
The image is striking. But that is precisely what is happening, confirms the DD The Rose. “When the COVID-19 pandemic started, children were very poorly affected. In 2020, Sainte-Justine’s emergency room was sometimes empty. Everyone was confined. Medical residents had never seen bronchiolitis…”
This time, the wave breaks, powerful. It is driven by a trio of respiratory viruses that circulate briskly in the province: those of COVID-19 and the flu, but also the respiratory syncytial virus (RSV), which is particularly contagious – and dangerous – in very young children.
Consequences of this perfect storm: there are more students absent in schools, at the moment, than during the Omicron wave; critically ill children have to be transported by ambulance to neighboring areas because hospitals are cracking under pressure; parents hang around on the phone for hours to get a precious appointment with a doctor; in desperation, they will hang around even longer, this time on the straight chairs of a waiting room, in the emergency room.
And we are doing nothing to change that, or almost.
All in all, it seems that Quebec is not so crazy about its children. He no longer wants to hear about collective efforts. He has already given. He is tired, tanned, disgusted. He wants to move on, to his party Office. To his cranberry turkey.
That’s it, or else Quebec is totally unaware of what is happening in its pediatric emergencies. The DD Guylaine Larose leans towards the second explanation.
No one is insensitive to the fate of sick people, whether they are elderly people or children. It is more likely that the population does not realize the extent of the crisis in pediatric emergencies.
DD Guylaine Larose
My colleague Caroline Touzin was one of the first to sound the alarm about the catastrophic situation in the Sainte-Justine emergency room, in a punchy report published on October 21. The DD Larose returned to the charge on Twitter on November 12: “I have never seen so many children admitted to hospital with respiratory viruses, she wrote. But where is Public Health to advise the population on prevention? »
The tweet seems to have finally brought the health authorities out of their torpor. On November 16, Public Health recommended that citizens wear masks in busy public places. “We rely a lot on people’s judgment,” Health Minister Christian Dubé told Radio-Canada. After three years of the pandemic, I think most Quebecers know a little about how to behave. »
Allow me to doubt it, Minister. Barely a week after your release, your own boss, François Legault, published a photo of him waltzing with his wife in front of a compact crowd at the Coalition avenir Québec ball.
PHOTO FROM TWITTER
Publication by Prime Minister François Legault dated November 24
No, it wasn’t a masquerade ball, ahoy, ahoy.
How can our leaders ask citizens to wear masks in busy public spaces… while neglecting to do so themselves?
Okay, there’s a big, big pandemic fatigue. True, part of the population will refuse to hide because this gesture of prevention has become, in their eyes, political.
Nevertheless: it would be necessary that our leaders show a little the example. It is not strong leadership to simply follow the mood of the times.
I am told that the government is working on a major communication campaign to encourage people to wear masks in crowded places. Perfect. In the meantime, it’s up to us to play.
Generally, when the emergency room is overflowing, there is not much you can do about it. But this time, we can act. Collectively. So that there are fewer sick children. Fewer clueless parents. Fewer caregivers out of breath.
It does not require enormous sacrifices: to hide in public; wash one’s hands ; staying home when sick; go get vaccinated.
Over time, it should have become a reflex. We should have learned that, at least, from the pandemic.
But no. Apparently, the only instinct we have kept is to stock up. In March, it was toilet paper. This time, it is on Tylenol that we throw ourselves, for fear of running out. And what do parents do when they can’t find any more at the pharmacy for their feverish children?
They’re going to clog the emergency room. And, as a result, aggravate the crisis.
Please, a little solidarity. Leave that fourth bottle of Tylenol on her shelf. And above all, wear the mask in busy public places. This is what children need above all.