On November 15th I was on my way to my Uncle’s memorial. He had died of a sudden heart attack. Meanwhile, my grandfather was ill with pneumonia (he has COPD) at Brampton Civic but was on the mend. I received a frantic phone call from a family member saying my grandfather had taken a turn for the worse and the nurse told her to get to the hospital immediately. Faced with a terrible dilema – miss my uncle’s memorial to receive closure on his death or not be there when my grandfather dies – I called the nurse’s desk. A nurse informed me he was now stable and it would probably be okay to attend the memorial and then get over to the hospital. I thanked her and proceeded to the cemetery. As I pulled into the cemetery my cell phone went and it was the weekend on call doctor I had left a message for earlier. I told him my situation – he said I know you have a tough choice but your grandfather has a pulmonary embolism (blood clot) to the lung and will die today – you should get right to the hospital. So I turned around and rushed to the hospital. When I got there he looked horrible, dazed, out of it, not talking. I was then told he had been given a shot of morophine to make him comfortable – even though his chart clearly stated he was allergic to morophine. As the memorial ended, people started coming to the hospital to say their “last goodbyes”. By the evening he seemed to be doing better. The doctor (I use that term loosely) came by and said well he will just go to sleep and die. I slept overnight in his room. By the next morning (when the morophine had worn off) he was much better, talking, even joking around. The doctor appeared again and said he was surprised he made it through the night but don’t be surprised he just goes to sleep today and dies. Well, miracle of all miracles, Monday morning he was still with us and the regular doctor was back on the floor. He immediately ordered a cat scan – and guess what – NO BLOOD CLOT. My grandfather had simply had a severe breathing attack (as COPD patients do). While the regular doctor was surprised by the weekend events he proceeded to mend my grandfather and he came home two weeks later. What happened to the on-call IDIOT doctor that told us my grandfather would die that day and made me miss my uncle’s memorial – absolutely nothing. He simply disappeared into the woodwork. My grandfather is still with us today thank goodness!

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. These doctors need to be held accountable for their actions. We are one family, one story – I can only imagine what others have been through at the hands of this incompetent fool.

I will do everything possible to bring this man be responsible for his actions.