(the following story appears in the March 10 edition of NOW Magazine)
By Matthew Behrens
Last month, Norman Shewaybick trekked
17 days along 550 km of treacherous ice roads from Thunder Bay to his Webequie
home, hauling a full oxygen tank to highlight the crisis afflicting Northern
Ontario’s First Nations health care.
“It’s
not about being a hero, it’s about saving lives, and how our health system
isn't doing its part for us,” says Shewaybick, a high school teacher and
grandfather of 6. Joined by his sons and two other supporters, what Shewaybick
calls “a healing journey home” was inspired by the deathbed promise he made to
his wife of 26 years, Laura Jean, whose respiratory distress last October could
not be properly treated because the local nursing station ran out of oxygen.
Her passing at age 51 marked another casualty of what critics call a two-tiered
medical system in which Indigenous people continue to suffer from inadequate health
care.
“She
was loved by so many, and many still grieve,” says Shewaybick. “I will miss her
for the rest of my life. My grandkids come here and keep asking, ‘Where’s
Grandma?’”
The oxygen tank Shewaybick brought home was symbolic of basic
medical devices such as defibrillators, x-ray machines and other diagnostic
equipment that are often in disrepair or wholly absent from northern First
Nations communities. That serious problem was highlighted February 24 when
leaders of the Nishnawbe Aski Nation and
Sioux Lookout First Nations Health Authority declared a public health emergency
to address “needless deaths and suffering caused by profoundly poor
determinants of health” as well as “a level of health care that would be
intolerable to the mainstream population of Ontario.”
Nishnawbe Aski Nation Grand
Chief Alvin Fiddler personally hands a copy of the emergency declaration to Justin
Trudeau, but no response yet from the PMO.
The Sioux Lookout region is home to 33 First Nations communities,
80% accessible only by air, with a total population of 30,000. The emergency
declaration was built on a litany of misery, with over 600 documented suicides
since 1986 (a conservative estimate that does not include countless more
serious failed attempts); “rampant” prescription drug use and opioid addiction;
chronic diseases like diabetes (with the highest amputation rates in Ontario);
severe obstacles to basic child health screening and, when diagnoses are
produced, poor access to treatment; lack of proper diagnostic equipment and
depleted stocks of basic medications; staff who are not fully trained; and
jurisdictional spats over which level of government covers what service.
Shibogama Health Authority director Sol Mamakwa likens
his 8 years of work in northern communities to a war zone in which
multigenerational trauma and the debilitating legacies of residential schools –
combined with alarmingly high rates of substance abuse, mental health issues,
and physical disease – have become a toxic mix with severe consequences. He finds
“the status quo has become acceptable
and normalized. We have 10-year-old children committing suicide, and our people
are living week to week with these serious issues.”
While
he does not begrudge them, Mamakwa notes “we are a community about the same
size as the number of Syrians who just came to Canada, and it would be great to
receive the same sympathy and the same access to health care, to housing, to
education.” Instead, the communities he serves are caught in a “jurisdictional
black hole” between the federal government and Queen’s Park which, instead of
providing desperately needed services, “play ping pong over the health of our
people.”
Mamakwa
points out health care bureaucracies appear more interested in cost-cutting,
noting that despite the vulnerabilities faced by young people, these northern communities
can access a resident pediatrician only 5 days per month.
The plight of Sioux Lookout
children was highlighted last October by Canadian Family Physician’s peer-reviewed
study on incidences of acute rheumatic fever (ARF), long considered a disease
of the past. Physicians documented the role of inadequate and crowded housing
as well as health care system deficiencies in contributing to at least 8 ARF cases,
with an average age of 9 years. Two 4-year-old children died, and the remainder
were left with rheumatic heart disease. Despite determining the ARF rate was
more than 75 times higher than in the non-Indigenous population, the report
barely caused a ripple on the federal election campaign trail.
One of the authors of that report, physician Michael
Kirlew, has worked in the north for 9 years. Speaking to NOW just after he gets
a patient on a Medevac, he’s furious at the conditions he sees on a daily
basis, noting federally-run nursing stations are “providing a standard of care
that is far, far inferior to what other Canadians receive in almost every
single respect. There’s no checks and balances, and mechanisms for
accountability are virtually non-existent. Care is being routinely denied to
people, under the non-insured benefits system, which really serves as a
gatekeeper to care to decide which patient is or isn't going to get what they
need. It’s just egregious. And we also have bacteria that take advantage of
social determinants like lack of housing and clean water, so it’s a recipe for
disaster.”
Kirlew has also
worked in Haiti, Guyana and other overseas locations, and “people’s jaws drop
when they hear about these types of situations in Canada. So we need a
fundamentally different way forward that is not based on the dynamics of an
unequal system that is steeped in 350 years of colonialism. The patient, the
community, and its values need to be at the centre, and the system we have
right now fails on all three of those points.”
Despite the obstacles, some health care practitioners and
community leaders are cautiously hopeful that political rhetoric about a
respectful nation-to-nation relationship will translate into concrete action. At
last week’s First Ministers meeting in Vancouver, Nishnawbe Aski Nation Grand
Chief Alvin Fiddler personally handed a copy of the emergency declaration to Justin
Trudeau, reminding the PM of the urgency to address the crisis. While Fiddler
hopes to chat soon with federal health minister Jane Philpott, he’s already
heard from provincial minister Eric Hoskins, in addition to receiving offers of
support from a number of corporate players as well as the Red Cross and Heart
& Stroke Foundation.
“I think they’re starting to realize the gravity of the situation,” he
says, noting that symptoms of the crisis were further documented in a damning
2015 federal Auditor General’s report. “They found Health Canada does not take
into consideration the needs of our communities when allocating their
resources. Right now, the funding we get is based on the Indian Health Policy
from 1979.”
The Auditor General also found that only one of 45 nurses
working in the area had completed all five mandatory training courses, while
some 30 separate deficiencies identified by Health Canada itself had not been
addressed. In addition, even though Health Canada had defined the scope of essential
services necessary for remote nursing stations, there was no proper assessment
to ascertain whether they could be provided under existing infrastructure.
“One
of the residences at a nursing station that we visited had been unusable
for more than two years because the septic system had not been repaired,”
the AG report found. “Consequently,
health specialists cancelled their visits to the community.”
Indigenous leaders point
out that solving the current crisis in Northern Ontario, as well as other
communities across the country suffering similar health care challenges, goes
beyond possible funding increases in the federal Liberals’ upcoming budget.
Indeed, it will require modernizing outdated policies, community-based
consultations, and a holistic approach that, for example, considers colonial
legacies, implements the recommendations of the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission, respects Indigenous cultures, and tackles racism.
That was the finding of a landmark 2015 Wellesley Institute
report, “First Peoples, Second Class Treatment,” which concluded that “Indigenous
peoples experience the worst health outcomes of any population group in Canada,
underscoring the urgency and importance of understanding and addressing racism
as a determinant of Indigenous health.”
That rings true for Mamakwa, who says “cultural safety is really
important, and it doesn’t mean putting a piece of woodland art in your doctor’s
office. People need to learn who we are, our history, and how institutions like
education, health care and prison can sometimes be very racist. People also need
to recognize that we are Ontarians, Canadians, First Nations people who are a
part of this country. Right now, we don't just need health care. We need care.”