In a room meant for peace, a mother’s final days were shadowed by an unexpected and distressing discovery: bedbugs in her palliative care bed. Sarah Lin, whose 72-year-old mother is in end-of-life care at a Toronto hospital, says she noticed the insects crawling near the mattress seam last Tuesday while holding her mother’s hand. “She’s fighting to breathe, and now this?” Lin said, her voice trembling. “How does this happen in a place that’s supposed to offer dignity?”
Toronto Public Health confirmed an inspection was conducted Friday after the family filed a formal complaint. While the agency has not released findings, hospital spokespersons acknowledged “an isolated pest concern” and said the room has been treated and the patient relocated. According to Ontario’s Long-Term Care and Hospital Infection Control Guidelines, facilities must maintain strict environmental standards especially in palliative units where patients are immobile and vulnerable to skin breakdown and secondary infection.
Lin described her mother diagnosed with advanced lung cancer as too weak to scratch or shift position, making bedbug bites not just uncomfortable but potentially dangerous. “She can’t speak much anymore,” Lin said, “but I saw her wince when I adjusted her gown.” The family says they alerted nursing staff immediately, but were told it “might just be lint” until a supervisor arrived hours later.
The incident has reignited concerns about staffing shortages and maintenance backlogs in Ontario’s strained healthcare system. In response, a youth initiative by nursing students at Ryerson University has begun advocating for “dignity audits” voluntary room checks by trained volunteers to support overburdened environmental services teams in high-risk units.
Hospital leadership has apologized and pledged a full review of housekeeping protocols. But for Lin, the damage is deeper than protocol it’s personal. “This wasn’t just a bug,” she said. “It was a failure to see her as someone worthy of care until the very last breath.”
As her mother sleeps in a new room, under fresh linens and softer light, Lin sits beside her, holding her hand tighter. Because in the end, what we owe the dying isn’t perfection but the quiet assurance that they are safe, seen, and surrounded by care that doesn’t falter when time runs out.
0 Comments