The gravel road to Pelly Crossing stretches ahead of me, cutting through stands of black spruce and aspen that are just beginning their autumn transformation. I’ve driven three hours north from Whitehorse to witness firsthand how healthcare shortages are affecting this community of about 400 people, predominantly citizens of Selkirk First Nation.
Outside the Pelly Crossing Health Centre—a modest single-story building that serves as the primary healthcare hub for the area—I meet Annie Morris. At 73, she’s lived here her entire life and remembers when the community had no permanent healthcare facilities at all.
“We used to have to travel to Mayo or Dawson for anything serious,” she tells me, adjusting her purple knit scarf against the morning chill. “When they built this place, it was supposed to mean we wouldn’t have to leave home to get care. Now we’re back where we started.”
For the third time this year, the Pelly Crossing Health Centre has announced reduced services due to staffing shortages. According to the Yukon Health and Social Services notice posted on the door, emergency services will remain available, but routine appointments and preventative care services have been temporarily suspended.
Inside, the waiting room sits nearly empty. A single nurse, who agreed to speak with me anonymously, explains the situation while organizing medication in a storage cabinet.
“We’re supposed to have three full-time nurses and one part-time,” she says. “Right now, we’re down to just me and occasional relief staff. It’s not sustainable.”
The nurse’s fatigue is visible in the dark circles under her eyes. She explains that healthcare providers in remote northern communities often face challenges unknown to their urban counterparts—isolation, housing shortages, limited professional development opportunities, and the expectation to be available around the clock.
According to the Canadian Institute for Health Information, rural and remote areas across Canada consistently struggle with healthcare staffing retention. In the territories, the problem is particularly acute, with vacancy rates for nursing positions sometimes exceeding 30%.
Chief Amanda Peters of Selkirk First Nation shares her frustration as we sit in her office overlooking the Pelly River. “Our people have specific health needs related to our history, culture, and environment. When services are reduced, we’re not just losing access to healthcare—we’re losing culturally appropriate care.”
The health centre’s reduced capacity means community members must now travel to Whitehorse or Mayo for services previously available locally. For many, this means a three-hour drive each way—if they have access to transportation at all.
“Gas is expensive, and not everyone has a reliable vehicle,” explains Tyler Johnson, who works at the local gas station. “In winter, the drive can be dangerous. Some elders just don’t go, even when they should.”
The Yukon Department of Health and Social Services acknowledges the problem. In an email response, spokesperson Melissa Atkinson stated: “We recognize the challenges in maintaining consistent staffing levels in rural communities and are actively working to address these issues through recruitment incentives, housing supports, and exploring new models of care delivery.”
But for residents like Morris, these assurances ring hollow. “We’ve heard this before,” she says. “Meanwhile, people aren’t getting their diabetes checked, prenatal visits are missed, and mental health supports disappear.”
The impacts extend beyond the immediate community. The Selkirk First Nation has been working to incorporate traditional healing practices alongside Western medicine—an initiative that depends on consistent healthcare staffing and relationship-building.
“When providers are constantly changing or services are reduced, it interrupts the integration of traditional knowledge into care,” explains Elder Raymond Isaac, who serves as a cultural advisor to the health centre. “Trust is essential for healing, especially given our people’s historical experiences with government services.”
The current staffing crisis reflects broader challenges in northern healthcare delivery. A 2023 report from the Northern Policy Institute highlighted that successful healthcare in remote communities requires not just filling positions but creating sustainable conditions that allow providers to embed themselves in communities long-term.
Back at the health centre, the lone nurse finishes her medication inventory and prepares for what might be her only appointment of the day. “I love working here, connecting with the community,” she says. “But the workload and responsibility when we’re short-staffed is overwhelming. Something has to change in how we recruit and support healthcare workers in the North.”
As I prepare to leave Pelly Crossing, I notice a bulletin board in the health centre entrance. Among the public health notices and community announcements, someone has pinned a handwritten sign: “Thank you to our healthcare workers. We see you.“
This simple acknowledgment highlights the complicated relationship between remote communities and their essential services—appreciation mixed with dependence, frustration, and hope.
For now, residents of Pelly Crossing will continue adapting as they always have, supporting each other through challenges while advocating for the healthcare stability their community deserves. But as winter approaches, bringing its own health challenges and transportation difficulties, the urgency of resolving the staffing shortage becomes increasingly clear.
The health centre’s lights remain on as I drive away, a beacon of both promise and uncertainty for this resilient northern community.
