Editor,
A Christmas never to be forgotten. On Dec. 22, I checked myself into the ER with heart problems. By the time I got back home, Christmas had passed and so had my birthday on the 27th. But I am alive and grateful to the elves who had to work 12-hour shifts to keep me and so many others going.
Never having had to spend time in a hospital other than a caesarean section 47 years ago, this experience was an eye-opener into the state of health care in our country. Take the fourth floor where us cardiac victims resided. Stuffy does not describe it. There are windows, but apparently they are one-paned and the solution to the problem of the rooms being too cold was to tape them up with plastic. (See picture above.) How depressing can you get?
I remembered the hospitals of my youth as airy, spacious and quiet. Visitors hours were twice a day for one hour each time. Today, visitors crowd the hallways all day long, bringing their germs from home and keeping patients awake with chatter. There were four beds in my room. At any given time, one or more of my neighbours had people visiting. It made for a lively time but did not help me rest, which is what I am supposed to be doing in a hospital. When did all that change?
When did nurses decide to look colourful? I asked questions of the cleaning crew because I thought they were nurses. How can you tell the difference? My sister was a nurse in the '60s. They wore white and changed into their clothing at the end of the their shift, even leaving their shoes at the hospital. No germs from home made it into the hospital. What a novel idea!
I will not mention the meals. Suffice it to say, I lost four pounds.
Our ambulances have not replaced their shock absorbers for ever, so every pothole is felt, and if you have broken bones you may arrive with a few more than you left with. Not an acceptable situation. I was happily tied down on my stretcher, and now I know why they tie you down so tight.
We are an affluent nation with third-rate health care. Shame on us.
Edie Williams, Surrey