My emergency surgery at Â鶹AV General Hospital last week wasn’t shocking. What was shocking was what I saw while I was there — and you should be shocked too.
It began early Friday morning with severe abdominal pain that turned out to be acute appendicitis. I was fortunate. Fourteen hours after arriving at the emergency department (ED), I woke from surgery to find myself in a quiet quad room with privacy curtains, a window, and a call button.
But it’s what happened before that, and what I saw on my way to the operating room, that has stayed with me.
When I arrived in the ED around 4 a.m., the waiting room was quiet. By 9, it was full, and staff were running flat out. “I’m sorry I have to talk about this here but we have no available exam rooms,” I overheard more than once. Private questions about bowel movements and painful toes were asked in full view of other patients. At one point, a doctor mistakenly gave me another patient’s diagnosis — and quickly apologized. But I understood why. With no rooms to assign patients to, doctors wandered the waiting room searching for the right person to treat.
The staff did everything they could to keep up. Monitors beeped constantly, blood pressures were checked repeatedly, and patients sat with IV lines dripping as they waited. I was eventually placed on a hallway bed in an alcove — no call button, no plug for my dying phone, no way to summon help if I needed it.
But even that paled in comparison to what I saw as they wheeled me to surgery. Bed after bed lined the hallways, each holding an elderly, frail person. I counted at least a dozen. Visitors squeezed in where they could, leaning over to feed their loved ones. Some patients had their food untouched, their heads flopped uncomfortably to one side. There was no space, no privacy, no dignity.
After I was home and recovering, I started to reach out to people I knew in healthcare and in the community. The stories I heard only deepened my concern. I heard about overworked and stressed staff doing their best but stretched too thin. There aren’t enough staff, and there are too few nursing home beds for seniors who need them. A friend told me his 88-year-old mother passed away after being kept as a hallway patient — he believes the lack of proper care contributed to her death. Another person shared that she lost both of her parents this way. One nurse described patients forced to urinate publicly into pans or bottles in their hallway beds, without privacy. These aren’t just anecdotes; they’re lived experiences of people in our community, and they should matter to all of us.
I reached out to Lindsay Taberner, Executive Director of Â鶹AV General Hospital with Interior Health, who kindly and candidly answered my questions. She acknowledged that the hospital is seeing between 275–300 patients a day in the ED, with increasing population and demand outpacing capacity.
In 2021, Â鶹AV’s total population was 144,576, and of these residents, 31,005 were aged 65 or older, representing 21.4% of the population ().
At the broader Census Metropolitan Area (CMA) level, which includes nearby communities, 50,160 individuals were 65+—about 22.6% of the total population ().
This means that more than one-fifth of the population in the Â鶹AV region are seniors. With the total population having grown by over 11,400 people (or 7.9%) between 2021 and 2024 , that senior cohort likely continues to grow numerically and proportionally—with strong implications for healthcare demand.
Lindsay explained that the hospital does not arbitrarily place people in hallways. There are specific criteria for what they call “surge spaces,” and staff make every effort to preserve dignity, including privacy screens (they need more), designated washrooms, bells to call staff, and care teams assigned to these areas.
Staffing shortages remain a challenge, though recruitment and retention are priorities. Last year, 54 beds were added, funded by the provincial government, and a promising “hospital at home” program launched. This allows some patients to recover with remote monitoring in their own homes.
I asked Lindsay about the story I’ve heard of undeveloped space at the hospital. The story is true. An additional shelled unit exists on site. The requests for approval to open this space are moving their way through the system.
Lindsay was quick to emphasize the dedication of KGH’s staff and expressed gratitude for the public’s support.
None of this diminishes the discomfort and indignity experienced by those left in the hallways — nor should it. But it’s also clear the situation isn’t the result of laziness or indifference. It could be just the result of a “perfect storm,” and as Lindsay put it: an aging population, a growing city, too few care home beds, and not enough staff to keep up.
The staff at KGH were nothing short of amazing during my ordeal, and I am grateful to each of them. But I can’t stop thinking about the seniors I passed in those hallways. Is this really how we, as a society, care for those who came before us? Will it be me — or you — in that hallway one day? Is that where we will take our last breath?
We cannot look away from what is happening. These are lives — our parents, grandparents, neighbours — and they deserve more than a surge space in a corridor. One way we can help is by keeping this issue in the public conversation, ensuring those in power feel the pressure to make it a priority. This problem isn’t unique to Â鶹AV, or even to British Columbia — it’s a national challenge. We can also take the time to thank and support the healthcare workers doing their best under impossible conditions, and let our elected officials know — through calls, letters, and at the ballot box — that dignified care for seniors and all patients must be at the top of the agenda.
Share your stories and related comments in my Substack article .
- Wilbur Turner, LL.D. (Hon.)
~ Wilbur Turner is a political strategist and community advocate based in Â鶹AV, British Columbia, with deep roots in Alberta. With experience on the ground in federal and municipal campaigns, and a passion for civic engagement, Turner offers sharp, accessible insight into the political and social issues shaping our region and country. He was selected by the University of British Columbia for an Honorary Doctor of Laws for his significant contribution to the community. He also writes articles as QueerGranddad on Substack.
