Mairead Farrell (Galway West, Sinn Fein) | Oireachtas source

"It was crazy. People sitting on the floor. A long queue winding its way up to reception. People lying across chairs. This was Tuesday morning. Some had been there since Sunday. Staff under huge pressure, stressed with their workload. No time to think. It was just panic. At one point, I thought I'm going to die". Those are the words of Niamh, who presented at the accident and emergency in Galway University Hospital at 6 a.m. on Tuesday, 9 April after a night of intense stomach pain.

Despite being unable to walk or sit with the pain, Niamh was not triaged until after 7 a.m. She felt the nurse had no time to ask proper questions and she was rushed out. When her bloods were taken more than an hour later, Niamh was in a bad way and could barely move with the pain. Other patients looked on with worry but she had to ask for pain medication. It was then that a nurse finally asked whether she could be pregnant. Niamh never saw that nurse again. Niamh had an ectopic pregnancy that would not be spotted until much later.

Five hours after she presented at reception, Niamh finally saw a doctor. She had to walk to the other side of the emergency department in pain described as eight out of ten. She was not even offered a wheelchair. She felt the doctor was so rushed that he was not taking in what she was saying. Niamh was returned to the waiting area, which she described as being like a warzone. She provided a urine sample, which she was asked to leave on a cart for collection. Two hours later, she noticed that it was still lying there and she broke down crying. She asked a nurse why her sample was still sitting there and what was happening with her blood tests but her questions were met with confusion. One blood test result came back showing elevated levels of white cells and a suspected infection. She was prescribed an antibiotic and a pain drug, Keral. As the Keral was being administered, a nurse came rushing back in panic shouted: "You are pregnant. You can't be on this painkiller while pregnant." Panic then ensued as to how much she had been given.

Niamh was finally referred to a gynaecologist at 12.45 p.m. and it was only then that the possibility of an ectopic pregnancy was raised. It was determined that Niamh needed an emergency scan, which she did not get until 2.30 p.m., eight and a half hours after coming in. The scan showed nothing but blood in her uterus. Niamh's emergency surgery would not happen until 6.45 p.m., 12 hours after she first presented. Niamh's partner was told the operation would take 1.5 hours but it took more than three hours due to significant internal bleeding.

Sometimes Niamh cannot believe she survived. She kept thinking: "What's going to happen to my baby son if I don't survive?" It was deeply traumatising for her and her family. Niamh told me:

I don't blame anyone. There was too much pressure on them. They weren't even able to handle the amount of people at 6 a.m. I’m lucky I went in early in the morning, if I had gone later, I don’t know if I’d still be here.

The chaos Niamh experienced in UHG is not unique. In the past three years, the overcrowding alert was activated more times there than in any other hospital. The hospital was clearly understaffed and the workers were run off their feet. There clearly were not enough beds. Stories like Niamh's are why the Government's recruitment embargo is so dangerous. It should lift the embargo, fund the 1,500 beds our hospitals need, deliver an elective centre in the west and invest in our local health services. This is the only way to tackle overcrowding. I could ask the Tánaiste plenty of questions about the health service but I will leave that to Niamh, who wanted me to ask him a question:

People are dying needlessly in our emergency departments. I could have been one of them. We need change. What’s it going to take?

What is it going take for change to happen?

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