November 2020

By: Katy S.

Among the cacophony of sounds that constantly fill the hospital hallways and often blend into a background hum, there is one noise that immediately commands the full attention of each staff member – the tell-tale tone on the overhead PA system declaring an emergency code. Busy hands halt and breaths held frozen, every muscle is tense and remains on high alert as we wait for the detailed announcement that follows:

“Code White. 7C Charlie, room fifty-six. Code White. 7C Charlie, room fifty-six. Code White.”

Before the broadcast ended, my coworkers had already shut the two sets of doors connecting our unit to the neighbouring one. Not more than ten seconds later, a resident doctor and I found ourselves pushing back against a door, preventing the agitated teenager on the other side from escaping through before security personnel and crisis team members caught up to her. I closed my eyes while listening to her screams echo down the hall as they led her away, wincing when I heard the scuffling and the thump of someone bumping into a wall. I knew what that was like. Just a few days ago I’d been whacked in the face by a flailing limb while trying to protect a panicked youth from harming herself, my face shield and mask accidentally torn off in the process. On yet another occasion, a colleague had had his arm inadvertently scratched, drawing blood, and others bruised. But even in those frenzied moments, I would tell you that the two loudest sounds were the ones that could not be heard, but felt – that of a desperate cry for help, and of our hearts breaking in helplessness.

With an unusual influx of patients coming in with mental health emergencies over the last few months, and our in-patient psychiatric unit with limited beds, many are admitted onto our general paediatric medicine floor instead. It’s become such a common occurrence that we’ve had to focus daily nursing huddles and unit-wide staff meetings on refreshing our knowledge of skills, policies and protocols in how to care for such patients and respond to emergencies. The fact is, we are in desperate need for a model of care for mental health and addiction that is more integrated, trauma-informed, and staffed by dedicated & experienced professionals specifically trained in psychiatric care. In any given year, 1 in 5 Canadians experience a mental illness or addiction problem, and many end up in an emergency room in crisis. As we may be all too aware, the COVID-19 pandemic has created increased levels of stress and anxiety, only adding to the demand for mental health services. Unfortunately, most hospital emergency departments are neither equipped nor staffed to best care for patients suffering from severe mental health issues, and at times may even negatively impact symptoms and outcomes.

Whether it’s due to centuries of church traditions or the Asian culture many of us at ETCBC grew up in, mental illness is rarely discussed in the church – and still carries a stigma that may possibly be heavier than that already present in the broader society. I’m glad that at ET, we’ve been exploring and growing our understanding of mental health, and recognizing that just as no one is immune to physical illness in this imperfect world, neither are we immune to struggles with mental illness. Through my own personal and clinical experiences journeying with those suffering from mental health conditions, it has become evidently clear to me that mental illness must be treated as the serious threat to health and life it is, just as cancer and heart diseases are. It is painfully real, not a ‘choice’ or state ‘controllable’ by the person… and though our God continues to work in miraculous ways, as with any other crippling illness, it is not something that can simply be ‘prayed away’ – it requires professional medical and psychological treatment, as well as reliable social supports.

As God’s people, we are called to love, not only in words but with actions and in truth (1 John 3:18). How can we, as individuals and as a community, support those who may be experiencing mental health struggles, and create a safe space where people feel able to reach out for help? While we wait and long for His healing and peace – and continue praying for the ongoing COVID pandemic, seeking ways to love and serve those affected by its physical, emotional, financial and societal toll across the globe – will you join me in taking a moment to learn more about mental health care, and lending your voice in an opportunity to show support?

To address the increasing need for mental health services, the Ontario Shores Centre for Mental Health Sciences recently launched a campaign to raise awareness and build community support to help secure government funding for a new mental health emergency facility – providing the specialized care so required, and also freeing up resources in traditional ER departments, allowing acute care doctors and nurses to focus their attention on other critical patients (e.g. COVID-19!).

To find out more about the A Name A Day campaign and add your name in support, visit:

• A Name A Day
• Ontario Shores

For information, tips, and resources about taking care of your mental (and physical) health during the COVID-19 pandemic:

For key facts and statistics about mental illness and addiction in Canada:

• Mental Illness and Addiction: Facts and Statistics (CAMH: Centre for Addiction and Mental Health)