Letters to the editor are welcome at guardian-letters@postmedia.com. FileArticle contentAfter mopping my balcony on Oct. 30, I felt I needed quick shower before I baked biscuits. I went into the bathroom with a light summer robe on and hung it up. I put my right foot into the tub partly on the rubber mat. As I lifted my left foot, the right heel slipped and I went flying backwards, hit my head on the bathroom sink and landed on the floor.THIS CONTENT IS RESERVED FOR SUBSCRIBERS ONLY.Subscribe now to access this story and more:Unlimited access to the website and appExclusive access to premium content, newsletters and podcastsFull access to the e-Edition app, an electronic replica of the print edition that you can share, download and comment onEnjoy insights and behind-the-scenes analysis from our award-winning journalistsSupport local journalists and the next generation of journalistsSUBSCRIBE TO UNLOCK MORE ARTICLES.Subscribe or sign in to your account to continue your reading experience.Unlimited access to the website and appExclusive access to premium content, newsletters and podcastsFull access to the e-Edition app, an electronic replica of the print edition that you can share, download and comment onEnjoy insights and behind-the-scenes analysis from our award-winning journalistsSupport local journalists and the next generation of journalistsRegister to unlock more articles.Create an account or sign in to continue your reading experience.Access additional stories every monthShare your thoughts and join the conversation in our commenting communityGet email updates from your favourite authorsSign In or Create an AccountorArticle contentI was sobbing and crying and managed to get up and see that my head was not bleeding. I put on my robe and took a couple steps into the hall. I looked down and saw a lot of blood on the floor. That is when I realized my left leg was damaged. I called 911 and tried to explain what happened while sobbing. The operator told me to stop crying.Article contentArticle contentArticle contentThe ambulance arrived in about 20 minutes. The male paramedic bandaged my leg and asked, “Do you want to go to the hospital with family or ambulance?” I said, “There is no family. I’ll go by ambulance and get looked after quicker.” That paramedic said, “It doesn’t work that way. You’ll sit in the waiting room like everyone else.” Why was he so angry?Article contentNow as the ambulance drove to the hospital I was thinking out loud. I had been going to bake biscuits and cook wings for dinner with a friend. I had picked up a bottle of wine and had it chilling in the freezer. As the ambulance drove, I made a comment, basically thinking out loud, “That wine is in the freezer.” The way I was treated, that is being left until 6:37 a.m. Saturday before seeing a doctor, I had to assume these hospital people thought I had been drinking and that is why I fell. That was certainly not the case.Article contentAnd I said nothing about the paramedic’s negative comment. Didn’t want to be accused of violence. The signs are all over the hospital. I was called to Triage 1 at 1 a.m. And said, “I can’t believe I waited so long.” The nurse said, “Well, you won’t be seeing a doctor.” I had no idea why the paramedic and nurse all sounded so angry at me. I was the 79-year-old injured woman and felt as though I was doing a disservice to the medical people.Article contentArticle contentI was taken down the hall to see a doctor (I think) at 6:37 a.m. I asked the person looking after me, a female, if she was a doctor. She said DP. I said so doctor? and said DP again. I had started to chat with the young lady accompanying the doctor telling her what had happened. The female doctor (maybe a doctor) said, “Kathy you’ll have to stop talking.” I have never had a doctor telling me, basically, to shut up. Oh for the days when nurses wore name tags and doctors introduced themselves and treated patients with care and kindness.Article contentWhile my leg was well looked after I was made to feel as though I inconvenienced the nurses and doctors. The young volunteer at the main desk in the afternoon, was so kind to me. Brought me water three times, and when I told her I could certainly use some food, she brought chicken sandwiches. God love her. If she becomes a doctor or nurse, I am sure she will be a very good one.Article contentKathy Birt, CharlottetownArticle content
LETTER: P.E.I. woman has a negative health-care experience
