Grief -- when you're losing a baby, there should be room in your heart for little else.
Dread over dismal health care certainly shouldn't be your dominant emotion as you are rushed to hospital in the middle of a miscarriage -- but it was for Michelle Seifridt, as she and her finance entered the emergency room at Peter Lougheed hospital.
"I remembered about other women miscarrying there, in the waiting room, and I didn't want to be like that," said Seifridt.
"I was thinking, 'I would hate for that to happen to me.' "
But it did happen to Seifridt, thanks to critical overcrowding in Calgary hospitals, where patients are waiting up to six hours to see a doctor and up to 24 hours for a bed.
Eight-weeks pregnant, Seifridt sought help in the midst of what hospital insiders say was the worst overcrowding crisis in memory.
With patients packed in hallways and emergency rooms overflowing, Calgary Health Region officials sounded the alarm on
Tuesday, demanding an immediate $115 million to end the bed and staffing crunch.
Yesterday, Premier Ed Stelmach said he's willing to work with the health region to find a solution for its funding woes.
If you're a politician in Alberta's ongoing election campaign, the crisis is either a landmine or a goldmine for speeches and outrage.
But for real human beings, the lack of room in hospitals equals hours of suffering and indignity.
Seifridt didn't miscarry her fetus directly in view of the crowded waiting room -- instead, she sat sobbing for three-and-a-half hours behind a curtain, watched by two other strangers who were also losing their babies.
In that time, says Seifridt, no health worker checked on her, and she was forced to repeatedly walk through the packed waiting room to the washroom, due to bleeding.
"I'm still angry, it was such a horrible thing to have happen, to have a miscarriage in front of strangers," she said.
The situation has actually improved since a high-profile case in July 2006, in which Calgarian Rose Lundy lost her baby in front of 40 people due to a lack of waiting room privacy.
Following that case, the Calgary Health Region segregated a small area for miscarriage cases, and social workers are supposed to offer support.
But there is no truly private place to grieve and suffer, and Seifridt can't understand how that's normal.
"I'm pretty damn sure that having to miscarry in a waiting room in front of complete strangers is inhumane," she said.
Seifridt saw a doctor just after midnight, and was discharged at 1:37 a.m.
Calgary Health Region officials say it's not unusual to have multiple miscarriage patients, and the semi-private area is the best they can offer.
"It was a challenge even getting the space we have," said spokesman Don Stewart.
Seifridt says staff at the hospital were "incredibly caring," but she says the province should be taken to task for its brutal health-care standards.
"I'd like an inquiry -- it's a serious problem, and anyone who doesn't think so hasn't experienced the wait times," she said.
"The staff are exhausted and this is something that keeps on happening."
Seifridt returned to work yesterday, after a week off to recover from the ordeal.
She says it was hard enough losing her baby, but the brutal emergency room conditions left her emotionally drained.
"It was the worst day of my life," she said.