Our HOSPITALS IN CRISIS

Australia's hospitals were already stretched when COVID-19 hit. Now, our frontline health workers fear, the situation is critical.

- GENEVIEVE GANNON

Every Friday night, Aswath Chavittupara and Prasitha Sasidharan and their four kids would pull their mattresses onto the floor of their Perth home for a big family sleepover tradition they called “carpet room night”. April 1, 2021, was a Thursday, but since it was the start of the school holidays they had carpet room night early. Siblings Amrita, Aishwarya, Aaryan and Adithya were in high spirits and the family decided to walk to their local ice cream parlour as a special treat. Aishwarya, their secondborn, had recently won the school talent quest with a magic show she’d performed with her big sister Amrita, and the two were happily hatching a plan to start a YouTube magic channel. The sisters were “always laughing together” her family said. There was no hint anything was amiss.

Aishwarya, 7, woke up early on Friday morning with a headache. Prasitha gave her Panadol, but she began vomiting and by the next day she was sore and weak. Aishwarya’s hands were cold, but her forehead was hot. Concerned, her parents rushed her to Perth Children’s Hospital (PCH). They passed two ominous signs as they entered the Emergency Department. One said the average wait time was four to six hours, the other warned that abusive behaviour would not be tolerated. Emergency staff had been enduring an escalating level of aggression from parents as waiting times blew out, WA Deputy State Coroner Sarah Linton later reported, and the children’s hospital had a security guard on staff. It was into this tense environment that Aswath and Prasitha brought their “happy and very loved little girl”.

Aishwarya was triaged as non-urgent, but her parents could see something was seriously wrong. Over the coming hour they would repeatedly try to get their daughter the urgent care she needed.