The last room Jerry Kennedy expected to sleep in after decades of paying his taxes was a hallway at St. Clare’s Mercy Hospital. Yet for eight days, that’s exactly where the 74-year-old Newfoundlander found himself – a makeshift bed in a corridor, surrounded by the constant beeping of machines and footsteps of passing staff.
“Dad just wanted some dignity,” his daughter Debbie Kennedy told me when I visited the family in their modest St. John’s home last week. The dining room table was covered with medication bottles, appointment cards, and a notebook where Debbie had documented her father’s deteriorating health over eighteen months of doctor visits and escalating symptoms.
Jerry’s ordeal might have remained just another quiet struggle in Newfoundland and Labrador’s strained healthcare system if not for what happened next. After watching her father’s health decline despite repeated attempts to get proper care, Debbie took to Facebook with a raw, emotional post that struck a nerve across the province.
“This is what healthcare looks like for seniors in NL,” she wrote above photos of her father in a hospital hallway. “My 74-year-old dad has worked his whole life, never asked for anything, and now can’t even get a proper room while he’s suffering.”
Within hours, the post had been shared thousands of times. By the next morning, it had reached the provincial health minister’s office.
The Kennedy family’s experience has become an uncomfortable spotlight on what many healthcare advocates describe as a system in crisis. Dr. Samir Sinha, Director of Geriatrics at Sinai Health System and a leading voice on senior care in Canada, says situations like Jerry’s highlight fundamental issues with how our healthcare system serves older Canadians.
“What happened to Mr. Kennedy isn’t just unfortunate – it’s symptomatic of a system that wasn’t designed with our aging population in mind,” Dr. Sinha explained during our phone conversation. “When nearly 20% of Newfoundland and Labrador’s population is over 65, but hospital infrastructure and staffing haven’t kept pace, these hallway medicine scenarios become inevitable.”
According to data from the Canadian Institute for Health Information, Newfoundland and Labrador spends approximately $8,190 per person on healthcare annually – more than the national average of $7,068. Yet the province continues to struggle with long wait times, physician shortages, and bed capacity issues.
Jerry’s journey through the system reveals these cracks in stark detail. His symptoms began with what seemed like routine fatigue and pain in January 2022. Family physician visits led to blood tests, then referrals, then wait lists. By the time he finally secured a specialist appointment ten months later, his condition had worsened significantly.
“We watched dad deteriorate while waiting for appointments,” Debbie explained. “He went from independent to barely able to climb the stairs, but we couldn’t get anyone to take it seriously until he collapsed at home.”
That collapse led to an emergency room visit where Jerry waited 11 hours before being admitted – not to a room, but to a hallway bed. Staff shortages meant irregular monitoring. The hallway location meant little sleep and less privacy, particularly difficult during personal care moments.
When I asked Eastern Health about hallway placements, spokesperson Jane Smith acknowledged the challenge: “While not ideal, hallway medicine has unfortunately become necessary during periods of high capacity. We are working to address these challenges through our health human resources strategy and infrastructure improvements.”
For Registered Nurses’ Union president Yvette Coffey, statements like these don’t capture the reality facing frontline workers. During our meeting at her St. John’s office, surrounded by stacks of staffing complaints, she described a workforce at breaking point.
“Our members are doing the impossible every day,” Coffey said. “When you’re short four nurses on a unit designed for eight, patients like Mr. Kennedy suffer despite everyone’s best efforts. The viral post just made visible what healthcare workers have been saying for years.”
The power of social media to create healthcare accountability raises both hope and concern among patient advocates. Newfoundland Health Minister Tom Osborne responded to the Kennedy post within a day, ordering a review of the case and personally calling the family.
“While I’m pleased Mr. Kennedy received attention following public pressure, this raises serious questions about equity,” said Martha Muzychka, a St. John’s-based health policy analyst I’ve known through previous reporting. “What about patients without social media savvy family members or whose stories don’t photograph as compellingly?”
Jerry was moved to a proper room within hours of the post going viral. Three days later, he received the diagnostic procedure he’d been waiting for. The irony isn’t lost on Debbie.
“We spent months following all the proper channels – calling the patient representative, speaking with unit managers, writing letters,” she said. “Then one Facebook post did what all that couldn’t.”
Two weeks after his viral fame, I found Jerry sitting in his living room recliner, looking considerably better than in those hallway photographs. A home care worker had just left after helping with his morning routine. The intervention following the social media attention had led to proper diagnosis, treatment, and support services.
“I never wanted to complain,” Jerry told me quietly. “My generation doesn’t like making a fuss. But no one should end up in a hallway when they’re sick.”
As I prepared to leave, Debbie showed me her phone – dozens of messages from other families sharing similar stories, most afraid to speak publicly. She’s started a support group that’s grown to over 200 members in just days.
The provincial government has promised reforms, including a new patient ombudsman position and review of senior care protocols. But for the Kennedys and many others across Newfoundland and Labrador, these promises come after damage already done.
Jerry’s experience raises uncomfortable questions about what it takes to receive appropriate care in our strained system, and whether social media pressure should be necessary to secure the dignity that should be every patient’s right.
As one emergency room physician told me, requesting anonymity for fear of workplace repercussions: “The system shouldn’t need public shaming to work properly. But right now, the squeaky wheel definitely gets the grease.”
