I am spending my day on the other side of the hospital bed shortage. I am sitting with my sister in the nursing home where she is spending the final days of her life. She waited seven months in a hospital bed for this space to become available.
Around us, all is peaceful. People down the hall are playing BINGO. The lady across the corridor has visitors for her birthday. It’s a far cry from the hospital because it’s quiet.
A hospital is a noisy place, day and night. During the day, there are so many people: nurses, doctors, technicians, dieticians. There is all the activity that comes with them. There are also announcements: codes, visiting hours, when the coffee shop is open. There are serious conversations at bedsides and few private spaces. Everyone seems to be hooked up to at least one machine. There are, however, about 12 – 20% percent of patients who are not hooked up and who do not have conversations. These are the people waiting for a quiet space in a nursing home or palliative care or long term care.
Reading articles about Emergency Room wait times or hospital bed shortages, one is given the impression that patients do not want to leave their hospital bed. However, this is not true. Most of them, much like my sister, are relieved to have been moved to a quieter setting. “I’m glad not to be a bed blocker anymore,” my sister says when I first see her in her new home, “I don’t need all the bells and whistles.”
My sister likes this setting in many other ways. She has a view of the Nova Scotia countryside outside her window. There are sitting rooms throughout the residence, with televisions and plants and books – quiet, cozy corners of a type not seen in hospitals. There is a full recreational program and food my sister enjoys. There are two cats.
“The cats are good,” my sister says, “They keep down the mice. You can’t have cats in a hospital.”
“Don’t tell me there are mice in hospitals,” I reply.
“Okay, I won’t,” says my sister who was a nurse, “but you know that’s the kind of thing the doctors never want to hear.”
She goes on to speak about the guilt she had felt when she was “taking up a bed”. She considered that maybe it was because she had been a nurse. She remembered how exasperated she and her colleagues had felt about long term care patients in acute care beds. She hopes she was not too much trouble to the staff when she was still in hospital.
As a child psychiatrist, I have not had to wrestle with bed shortages as other doctors have. Everyone agrees that there is a significant need for long term care beds, but it does seem as though much of the advocacy for these beds comes from the acute care side of the occasion. It comes from the concern that patients are receiving their care not from the relative comfort of a hospital room, but from such places as the corridor of the Emergency Room or closets or any space that can be found. We would all agree that these are not good places to receive acute medical care.
But there is a need for us to be aware that there is also better care available to those patients like my sister who don’t need an acute care bed, but who cannot be comfortably cared for without significant nursing and home care support. People like my sister do not have a lot of energy for advocacy, nor do their families, but it’s important to remember them.
Our lives are important at every stage.
(These are the 2 cats who live at the nursing home. This picture is from Facebook.)