I was riding my bike last week when I saw a senior lying on the floor, face down, squirming to get back up. I rushed to help him, not knowing how exactly. Would holding him up make things worse?

Upon closer inspection, I saw his cane by his side, along with his Wal-Mart tote bag, in it was a canned perservative. I tried to look into his eyes to see if he was conscious, instead I saw a small gash on his head. His hands were also bleeding. It was a terrifying sight, especially for me as I am faintish at the sight of blood. But I had to hold it together.

I was relieved to see someone else coming to the rescue. He tried to get him back up, but the old man was not able to get on his feet. “Are you okay? Are you okay?” His response was incoherent. My first instinct was to call 9-1-1. I’m not a doctor, but it didn’t appear that he needed to go to the hospital. He just tripped, it was just a small fall. I’m sure some polysporin, bandages, some rest, and the company of good friends was all he really needed. But he was not able to get up. Maybe his legs were broken? “Should I call 9-1-1?”

“Yes, I would call them,”

So I called them. I didn’t know what else to do. The dispatcher instructed me to not touch him unless he vomits, in which case I would have to turn him over. And so the 30 minute wait for the ambulance began, as I reassured the old man that everything will be fine. Oh everything will be fine! But I had a hard time believing that myself.

The “free” public health system is a nightmare. The villains are Mr. Wait, Mrs. Money, and the ring leader, Ms. Bureaucracy. The story starts with an ambulance. This ambulance usually comes late, and when it does, they charge patients $125 plus $1.75 per km. It would have been faster and cheaper to take a cab. (I’ll just mention here that ambulance fees for seniors over 65 are waived in Quebec, but only if you are in a stretcher “if warranted by the state of your health”. The old man didn’t need the stretcher though as you will see later in the story..). When they drop you off at the hospital, you will wait in a grim, colourless, room for hours, sometimes six or even eight hours before you get any medical attention. Needless to say, it’s a very miserable experience to live through.

As I was telling the old man that “everything will be fine.” and that the “ambulance were coming”. He struggled harder. “Don’t move!” I instructed him. But it was no use. He crawled and gripped onto a railing.

“Give me my cane! Give me my cane!” He yelled. So I gave him his cane.

As though it was a suspense film, the old man struggled, crawled, pushed, heaved, and finally got on his feet the second the ambulance came. So it looked like everything was fine, it’s just the bleeding that might have needed some bandages. The paramedic instructed him to go in the ambulance, but he refused. A team of three paramedics got in his face and tried to persuade him to go inside. He just wouldn’t go, his feet was down (literally).

“Is everything okay here?” I asked.

“Yes yes, we will take care of it.” said one of the paramedics.

And so I threw this old man into his responsibilty. The paramedic, knows with training and common sense, that the old man probably doesn’t necessarily need to see a doctor, and that bandages will do. But bureaucracy will tell him that he is not allowed to use discretion, and that he is liable. I left, I didn’t know if he actually did end up in the ambulance or not. But what we did all know was the solution, but we are too tied up to this system to make judgement calls and think for ourselves. And I probably made things worse by adding an ambulance bill to his plate…