It’s a bright, chilly morning when I drive across Opaskwayak Cree Nation toward The Pas, Manitoba. The nursing shortage at The Pas Health Complex has become more than statistics on a page – it’s written on the faces of healthcare workers I’ve met over three days in this northern community.
“Some days I leave crying,” admits Kelsey Chuhie, a registered nurse who’s worked at the facility for eight years. We’re sitting in a local café, steam rising from untouched coffees as she describes shifts where she’s responsible for up to fifteen patients – nearly double recommended limits. “It’s not that we don’t want to provide proper care. We physically can’t.”
Last month, the Manitoba Nurses Union placed The Pas Health Complex under “grey listing,” a designation that warns nurses against accepting positions at facilities with serious workplace concerns. The rarely-used measure highlights dangerous staff-to-patient ratios, mandatory overtime, and what nurses describe as a culture of intimidation.
The Northern Health Region, which oversees the complex, reported a nursing vacancy rate exceeding 40 percent last quarter. This shortage mirrors a provincial crisis – Manitoba Health’s latest workforce report shows over 2,400 nursing vacancies province-wide.
For Chuhie, these statistics translate to missed breaks, 16-hour shifts, and constant fear of making medication errors from exhaustion. “I became a nurse to help people,” she tells me, voice steady but eyes revealing the toll. “But I worry every day that someone will suffer because we’re stretched so thin.”
The community of approximately 5,500 people relies heavily on this facility. When staffing falls below critical levels, patients requiring specialized care face transport to Winnipeg – a journey of over 600 kilometers that separates them from family support systems.
Elder Joseph Constant from Opaskwayak Cree Nation describes how this affected his wife last year. “When she needed dialysis and the unit was short-staffed, they flew her to Winnipeg. I couldn’t afford to join her for two weeks. Healing happens better with family near.”
The grey listing reflects deeper systemic issues, according to Dr. Lisa Monkman, a family physician with experience in northern Indigenous communities. “Northern healthcare has historically been underfunded and under-resourced,” she explains during our phone interview. “When we talk about nursing shortages, we’re really talking about decades of policy decisions that haven’t prioritized rural and Indigenous health equity.”
This perspective is supported by a 2021 report from the Manitoba Centre for Health Policy, which found northern residents face significantly higher rates of preventable hospitalizations compared to southern communities, often linked to reduced access to primary care services.
Inside the hospital, the physical environment itself tells a story. During a guided tour, I notice dated equipment, crowded nurse stations, and makeshift storage solutions. A staff room converted to supply storage means nurses often eat lunch at their workstations – if they eat at all.
“We’re asked to provide 21st-century care with 20th-century resources,” remarks one nurse who requested anonymity fearing repercussions. “Then administration wonders why they can’t retain staff.”
The situation creates a troubling cycle: shortages lead to burnout, which drives more nurses away. Manitoba nurses earned 3.2 million hours of overtime last fiscal year according to provincial health records – equivalent to over 1,600 full-time positions.
“We know recruitment alone isn’t enough,” says Darlene Jackson, president of the Manitoba Nurses Union, when I reach her by phone. “We need to address the underlying conditions driving nurses away – mandatory overtime, insufficient mental health support, and workplace safety concerns.”
Violence against healthcare workers represents another serious concern at the facility. A national survey by the Canadian Federation of Nurses Unions found 68% of nurses experienced violence in the workplace in 2021 – a figure nurses at The Pas say matches their reality.
“I’ve been grabbed, threatened, and had objects thrown at me,” says Chuhie. “We understand patients are often in crisis, but we lack the security and training to handle these situations safely.”
The Northern Health Authority declined specific comment on the grey listing but provided a statement acknowledging staffing challenges and pointing to recent recruitment initiatives, including signing bonuses and expanded training programs.
Meanwhile, community members have organized to advocate for better healthcare resources. Miranda Halcrow, who formed the Northern Manitoba Healthcare Advocacy Committee after her father experienced delays in emergency care, says the grey listing validates long-standing concerns.
“For years, we’ve been told we’re exaggerating the crisis,” Halcrow says as we walk along the Saskatchewan River, which flows past the hospital. “The grey listing finally puts official recognition behind what patients and healthcare workers have been saying.”
As my time in The Pas concludes, I witness both vulnerability and resilience. In the hospital parking lot, I meet a nurse ending her third consecutive 12-hour shift who still smiles warmly at arriving colleagues. “We look out for each other,” she explains, “because that’s how we survive this.”
What becomes clear is that this northern Manitoba community isn’t just experiencing a staffing shortage – it’s navigating the consequences of healthcare inequity that has persisted for generations. The grey listing serves as both warning and call to action.
For patients, families, and the nurses who remain committed despite overwhelming challenges, solutions can’t come soon enough.
