"Alberta Health Services, a System that Failed My Father"

It has been an intense and difficult journey. Since the summer of 2023, my father was plagued by chronic headaches that defied diagnosis and treatment. Despite consultations with neurologists, emergency doctors, numerous tests, blood work, nearly a dozen CT scans, scopes, MRIs, X-rays, and a variety of medications, every attempt seemed futile, month after month.

Amid these struggles, we uncovered cancer in November of 2023. We fought it and won by July 2024, only for the headaches to return. And a cruel twist—radiation treatment would eventually triggered narrowing of veins in the brain. Even more frustrating was the failure of hospital visits on December 23rd and 24th to recognize the impending stroke, which struck on Christmas Day and Boxing Day.

Not only the ridiculousness of 5 hour wait at the emergency at Foothills Hospital, but that father was sent home on 23 December 2024 with only pain killers because doctors could not see anything on CT scan. Then we get a call suggesting a blood clot, and again back to the hospital on 24 December 2024. Another day of wait only to be prescribed blood thinners.  This prescription was found to have caused the brain bleed on Christmas Day, and ultimately stroke and seizure on 26th December morning where we called ambulance. A third doctor suggested that the blood thinners should not have been prescribed.

This ordeal has exposed troubling flaws in the medical system. Why was there no coordination among staff? Why were families left uninformed about the realities of palliative care? Dad, remarkably strong even after the stroke, could walk with a walker and speak, albeit with slurred words. His resilience suggested home palliative care was possible. But the reality was far from adequate—no medications, no IVs, no outreach from the palliative team, just a toilet seat and no clear plan for the transition home. It felt like a decision made without thought, as though their struggle was someone else’s burden to bear.

Why did I have to advocate so fiercely for the dignity of hospital-based palliative care, especially when sending our loved one home was not only illogical but cruel? Where was the compassion in discharging someone brought in by ambulance, knowing the home care plan was woefully insufficient?

If this were your family, would you not fight to extend their care, to hold on to every moment together?

These have been painful, trying days. While some nurses provided excellent care, the overall experience with the palliative team has been deeply disappointing. This morning, the IV was removed abruptly, without explanation. Only after I demanded answers did a doctor finally arrive to clarify the situation. Why the lack of communication? Why the secrecy, when honesty and transparency were what we needed most?

It feels as though we are caught in a broken system—a system that often overlooks the vulnerable while prioritizing the privileged few. It is a tragic failing, one that plays with lives as if they hold less value outside the wealthiest 3%.

Father fought to stay with his family, survived to see brother fly in from half way across the world.  He fought valiantly to be alert and squeezed our hands and to mumble enough to be coherent all the way until he loss strength after being disconnected from IV on New Years Day.

Watching him draw his last breath this morning 4 January 2025 has been devastating.