As a Canadian, this doesn't surprise too much: People complain about wait times all the time, but the only wait times I've ever seen are for relatively stable situations that do not put the person at increased risk, e.g., corrective surgeries for non-threatening conditions, etc. (We can - and should - debate whether surgeries to correct intense chronic pain should be delayed as much as they often are, but current medico-political thinking appears to be that pain ain't so bad, contrary to current psychological thinking).
I've had a couple of exposures to emergency rooms and clinics over the last few years. The most telling was when I sliced open the back of my hand with an industrial fan. We cleaned and bandaged it, then applied ice, and I sat until the pain subsided and felt good enough to go the nearest clinic.
By the time I arrived, the pain and nausea had returned, but no biggie. I presented my healthcard and described the situation, which caused the three people behind the counter to pause and eye me as one asked "But you didn't break the skin, right?"
I did not get a chance to complete my reply, which started with "Yes, of course...". "Drop your card, come with me now".
The waiting room was more than half full, but I was priority number 1 for the next 15 minutes. A nurse carefully, delicately removed the dressing, then used a thin metal instrument to ever so carefully widen the cut and examine the tissue underneath. When satisfied, she sent me back to the waiting room where I sat for an hour and half.
I learned the full story when I returned for an x-ray the next day (I hurt myself on a Sunday, the basement x-ray lab was closed): Had I severed - or even cut - any of the tendons leading to my fingers, I would have rushed to the hospital to save my hand before the tendons shrank and dried into uselessness.
I didn't mind the 1.5 hour wait on the Sunday, or the combined 1.5 hours on the Monday, because when it came to what really mattered, there was no wait at all.
They only took my healthcard once the initial careful inspection was over. Billing and bean counting were irrelevant.
Note: I expect that billing for treatment of visiting foreign nationals will vary widely by province (anyone in the know care to chime in?), but that the overall triage process will be similar.
Last night I accidentally ate sunflower seeds (to which I'm allergic.) Normally I just get, well, vomit-y, but this time I got a fun side dish of horrible wheezing and difficulty breathing.
So, to go along with possible lost tendons, another great way to skip the ER line is to show up having audible trouble breathing.
(I'm American and have high deductible insurance, so I'm probably going to pay a grand or two for the privilege of this stupid own goal of a self-poisoning. Sigh.)
The strangest thing to me when I (an American) visited a Canadian hospital was that my "room" was just a curtain around a bed in the hallway. All the usual hospital room connections came out of holes in the wall, just like in a room, but it was in the hall. The curtain was just big enough to fit around the bed, so the doctor had to lean on my bed every time she entered.
I've had a couple of exposures to emergency rooms and clinics over the last few years. The most telling was when I sliced open the back of my hand with an industrial fan. We cleaned and bandaged it, then applied ice, and I sat until the pain subsided and felt good enough to go the nearest clinic.
By the time I arrived, the pain and nausea had returned, but no biggie. I presented my healthcard and described the situation, which caused the three people behind the counter to pause and eye me as one asked "But you didn't break the skin, right?"
I did not get a chance to complete my reply, which started with "Yes, of course...". "Drop your card, come with me now".
The waiting room was more than half full, but I was priority number 1 for the next 15 minutes. A nurse carefully, delicately removed the dressing, then used a thin metal instrument to ever so carefully widen the cut and examine the tissue underneath. When satisfied, she sent me back to the waiting room where I sat for an hour and half.
I learned the full story when I returned for an x-ray the next day (I hurt myself on a Sunday, the basement x-ray lab was closed): Had I severed - or even cut - any of the tendons leading to my fingers, I would have rushed to the hospital to save my hand before the tendons shrank and dried into uselessness.
I didn't mind the 1.5 hour wait on the Sunday, or the combined 1.5 hours on the Monday, because when it came to what really mattered, there was no wait at all.
They only took my healthcard once the initial careful inspection was over. Billing and bean counting were irrelevant.
Note: I expect that billing for treatment of visiting foreign nationals will vary widely by province (anyone in the know care to chime in?), but that the overall triage process will be similar.