In our Indigenous communities, there is a special component tailoring to our unique little place in the world. I see this in action all the time. On my way home from work the other day, I saw the police — not pulling people over, but protecting a path for the recovered eagle soaring its way to freedom. Made me smile. Then, remembering those same people stood at my door telling me they could break my door down for a “wellness check” made me realize there is still work to do.
We have it in us to work towards something we can all live with, no matter what the circumstances. Our relationships are intricate and complicated — the same as the systems generating services we all need.
I worked with the ministry years ago. It wasn’t long before realizing the colonial construct isn’t always supportive of our communities — even those working within that silo knew it. Now we’re fortunate enough to have people working towards reinventing how we receive care. I could fill up another page with those exciting developments.
One sore spot lately for me has been dealing with the hospital. I had made an appointment, only to have the mobile clinic call and say they weren’t sure how I was able to get that doctor on this day, and could I come in next week. I explained I needed a refill, and it couldn’t be done by the virtual clinic because of the nature of the medication.
She kept reading — incorrectly — when and where I refilled. Speak clearly and stand your ground. They eventually find the right information. I have lost my cool a few times when it came to my child, and they’ve been patient with me. Kudos to the front line.
We all notice the great things our hospital is doing right — from hiring some lovely Haida people to supporting our families that are grieving. We appreciate you.
It was arranged for me to see the nurse practitioner. She treated me with such respect and support. I didn’t have to put up with the doctor standing over me, not reading my chart, asking why I was there. You don’t have to be with men who make you uncomfortable — especially in this setting.
They still got my script wrong. They asked if I wanted to take the pills anyway, and I said no. You can stay firm in a respectful way. Always be kind to the pharmacy staff. I’m sure if they were fully staffed, things would improve.
My daughter’s put up with what would be classed as abuse in her extensive stays and visits to hospitals. I have been to the last admin on her behalf many times. Once, a doctor saw her in emergency and left. Four hours later she returned and told her she was so stressed out that she needed to leave and go for a run. We did our due diligence through the complaint process. I asked to be her advocate — she gave her permission — but the deadline was sent to her email. It’s set up to give up. I suggest accompanying anyone you’re worried about and taking detailed notes.
My husband fell off our roof. We raced to the hospital. They said if it was over 12 feet, it was an instant CT scan. It was probably twice that, but they assessed him and insisted he was probably fine. He explained his head hit the metal part of the trampoline — they sent him home with some Tylenol. We felt like they were the experts and trusted their evaluation.
Weeks later, he started to have weird sensations as he drove. He would leave his vehicle only to feel like his ears were under water. He went to DG hospital several times; they gave him nose drops to try.
Long story short — two months later he almost lost his life. He had a seizure that mimicked a stroke. They realized it was a brain bleed. We left during that bomb cyclone that happened. We left right before the planes were all grounded, with him fighting for his life. He had two brain bleeds — one from a fish tote falling on his head in 2019. Never Google “subdural hematoma” while your loved one is getting operated on. It took four hours instead of the one they expected.
If all else fails, Creator has a plan. Ken’s a walking miracle.
Please know I love those within these systems. I see you fighting too.