I was about 7 years old when I had my tonsils removed.
I still remember it like it was yesterday, struggling and crying through 12 shots of medicine that was disgusting and hurt my throat to swallow. It was the promise of a popsicle that got me through that day. I was just a kid and there are plenty of people in hospitals who have worse days than I did, but that sticks in my mind all these years later.
And all these years later, popsicles are at the centre of a government controversy.
Surprise wasn't one of the emotions that registered when the unexpected news surfaced this week, in relation to Alberta Health Services and the limits of providing food to hospital patients.
I was angry, disappointed and saddened, but not surprised.
If you missed it, a memo leaked over the weekend that indicated AHS was going to "streamline food" for some patients in hospital. It said that while recognizing that some patients may spend extended time in AHS facilities and expect or require access to food, clinics are encouraged to remind patients to bring their own snacks, meals or money to purchase their own food.
"Most sites have vending machines or on-site retail food services, and staff can provide information on nearby food options, if needed," the memo said.
"This initiative ensures that resources are allocated efficiently while maintaining high standards of care."
In plain terms, AHS was no longer going to offer things like popsicles to cancer patients or ginger ale to non long-term patients. A cookie for someone experiencing a blood sugar crash, for example.
As the news spread and outrage gathered, Minister of Health Adriana LaGrange ordered AHS to fix the problem. AHS announced a review of the decision on Tuesday and said they won't make the change after all.
"The proposed policy was not meant to deprive patients of food. What was meant to change is how food is stored and delivered to patients in an effort to reduce waste that is occurring in our hospitals. I have reviewed this policy which was brought forward prior to my arrival at AHS and, after feedback from clinicians, have decided that AHS will not move forward with these changes," Tremblay said.
"We are concerned by the misinterpretation of this proposed policy and are looking into reports that food and drink may not have been available to patients."
The lack of empathy from AHS and Alberta Health for even the temporary pain this must have caused so many people and families was what struck me.
Not an apology, not even an ounce of accountability taken for the screw up.
Of course, when an organization is siloed and budget cuts are the modus operandi, this is what you get. Alberta Health naturally blamed AHS for the screw-up, while AHS reversed course, because AHS now only looks after acute care, mainly hospitals in the government's new four-pronged health care system.
But it is Alberta Health that is asking for these cuts. It is the Alberta Government that is demanding our health care system make massive changes in order to provide "more streamlined" care.
But streamlining health care shouldn't be the goal. Compassion and top-notch care should be the goal. Providing positive health outcomes for as many Albertans as possible should be the goal, not cutting corners on a flimsy policy that will store a little less food in the hopes of saving hundreds of thousands of dollars.
It's in the vein of operating our health care system like a for-profit business, where we will see failure after failure like this. Even if this failure was only temporary and only lasted a couple of days, it's an oversight caused in part by not enough people focusing on what really matters, making sure we take proper care of anyone in our hospitals.
Only a few weeks ago, it was another oversight at the Central Alberta Cancer Care Centre. Because of the construction on the hospital, patients no longer had an opportunity to park directly outside the centre, but were forced to walk from the parkade, which for a healthy person doesn't seem like a big deal. But when you're dealing with a life-changing disease or dropping off a family member who is undergoing any kind of cancer treatment, it's a necessary inconvenience that just digs even deeper into an already open wound.
My dad is undergoing chemotherapy in Ontario right now and it's brutal. I shudder at the thought of him making a long walk to the car after treatment, weak and tired. I cringe at the idea of him being denied a juice box or chocolate bar after his treatment, something small to boost his spirits after being pumped full of chemicals to try and ward off this ugly disease. He's 75 and he doesn't need that stuff, he wouldn't complain if it disappeared, but it matters.
It doesn't matter as much to him as a 10-year-old hoping for a popsicle after treatment for brain cancer, but it is something so small that makes such a huge difference. When you aren't on the ground floor with these people, when you are up in your ivory tower making penny-pinching decisions, it's easy to overlook how something so small could make such a big difference to an individual.
It's simply a question of compassion. Or should be any way.
I hope this is a wake-up call for all those involved, and going forward, they can use this new era of Alberta Health to paint a different picture than what's been happening recently.
Byron Hackett is the Managing Editor of the Red Deer Advocate and Regional Editor for Black Press Media.
