Something for America to think about: How has Canada’s doctor shortage affected me? I had cancer (for years) that went undiagnosed. I had a stage 2 borderline stage 3 cancer; had my condition been diagnosed earlier, I may have had...
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Something for America to think about: How has Canada’s doctor shortage affected me? I had cancer (for years) that went undiagnosed. I had a stage 2 borderline stage 3 cancer; had my condition been diagnosed earlier, I may have had a stage 1 cancer, or been pre-cancerous. At the time I developed very troubling symptoms, we had just moved to Cambridge, Ontario, which is notoriously short of doctors. At the time we lived there, over 10,000 people did not have a family doctor. The only option was a walk-in clinic; really, more of a sit-in clinic, because they were so overwhelmed with patients, you would wait hours to be seen. When CBC featured the clinic on a piece about the doctor shortage, the over-60 doctor who ran it was talking retirement. I shudder to think how bad the situation would be without that clinic. But back to my cancer. For 8 months, every Monday morning, I phoned the local hospitals (In Cambridge, Guelph and Kitchener-Waterloo) to find out if any doctors were accepting new patients. I then started hitting the doctor offices. It was discouraging work, but one day I hit the jackpot, and found a family doctor. After three visits over 4 weeks, when my condition was not responding to treatment, she referred me to a specialist. The waiting list was 4 months long. I asked to be put on a cancellation list, and explained the problem. I got in after…. 4 months. Then, it was another wait until I was able to have specialized testing in the hospital. As a young and otherwise healthy 31 year-old, I did not set off any alarm bells, and so according to the triage system, was not a high priority. When I walked towards the elevator in the hospital after my test, my condition couldn’t have been clearer. The doctor refused to meet with me and explain what had happened, but every nurse on the floor, the lab technician fetching my biopsy samples, the orderlies, all were watching me with eyes full of pity, smiling at me, and making a point of saying “good luck”. That’s when I knew I had cancer. So all told, it took over 12 months to get medical attention. If I had not been stubborn and persistent, I would have died.
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