At North Shore Hospital, a crisis long in the making has finally broken into the open: 120 nurses have written to their health authority's chief executive to declare that their emergency department is itself an emergency. The conditions they describe — patients waiting in soiled beds, elderly people lining corridors without privacy, heart scans delayed for hours — are not the result of a sudden catastrophe but of predictable winter demand met with unfulfilled promises and inadequate planning. It is a story as old as institutional healthcare: the gap between what is pledged and what is delivere
North Shore ED in Crisis: Nurses Report 'Feral' Conditions, Patients in Soiled Beds
It's an absolute nightmare. It feels like we're at war.
When you read that patients are waiting in soiled beds, what does that actually mean for how a hospital functions?
It means the system has broken down completely. A nurse should be able to respond to someone who needs changing within minutes. When that stretches to hours, it's not just uncomfortable—it's a sign that there are more patients than staff can possibly manage. It's the visible marker of invisible chaos.
The letter says this was entirely predictable. How do you predict a winter crisis?
You look at the numbers from last year, you account for population growth, you know that winter always brings more respiratory illness and falls. Health NZ had months to hire those 25 nurses. They hired nine. That's not a surprise—that's a choice.
Why would an organization choose to under-staff a crisis?
Budget constraints, probably. Hiring freezes. The assumption that they could manage with less. But when you're wrong, the cost isn't money—it's people waiting 50 hours for a bed, missing medications, elderly patients in hallways.
The nurses say they go home hoping no one died. That's a heavy thing to carry.
It is. And it's not abstract worry. They're saying: I don't know if the person I couldn't get to in time made it through the night. That's the weight of working in a system that's failed.
Health NZ says they're hiring now. Is that enough?
The nurses don't think so. And they have credibility—they're there every shift. Nine new nurses into a department running at 300 percent capacity is a gesture, not a solution. It's also late.
O Pulso
- North Shore Hospital's emergency department is running at 300 percent capacity, with nearly 14,000 patients passing through in July alone and some waiting more than 50 hours for a hospital bed.
- Elderly patients are lying in soiled beds in hallways, missing essential medications, and receiving care stripped of any dignity or privacy — conditions nurses describe as feral and unlike anything seen in 35 years of practice.
- Health NZ promised 25 new nurses for the department but delivered only 9, and the nurses' collective letter to the chief executive calls this a deliberate recruitment go-slow rather than an oversight.
- The day after receiving the nurses' letter, Health NZ announced 50 new hires across two hospitals — but nurses say nine designated for North Shore ED falls far short of what three-times-capacity demand requires.
- Staff go home each night uncertain whether a patient has died from a care gap they could not close, while the organisation has yet to formally respond to the specific conditions described in the nurses' letter.
At North Shore Hospital, a crisis long in the making has finally broken into the open: 120 nurses have written to their health authority's chief executive to declare that their emergency department is itself an emergency. The conditions they describe — patients waiting in soiled beds, elderly people lining corridors without privacy, heart scans delayed for hours — are not the result of a sudden catastrophe but of predictable winter demand met with unfulfilled promises and inadequate planning. It is a story as old as institutional healthcare: the gap between what is pledged and what is delivered, measured now in human suffering.
At North Shore Hospital, patients are waiting in beds soiled with their own waste. Corridors are packed so tightly that nurses cannot move between them. Waiting rooms have spilled into fluorescent-lit hallways where there is no privacy, no space to recover. One hundred and twenty nurses have written directly to Health NZ chief executive Dale Bramley to say plainly: the emergency department is itself in a state of emergency.
Charge nurse Jean Classey describes the atmosphere as feral. Incontinent patients remain in wet beds for extended periods because there is simply no physical space to care for them. The numbers are stark — nearly 14,000 patients moved through North Shore and Waitakere EDs in July alone, with North Shore operating at 300 percent capacity. Triage waits average 90 minutes. Heart scans that should be immediate take hours. Some patients spend more than 50 hours in the ED waiting for a ward bed. Others miss essential medications entirely.
Nurse Sharon Franklin-Smith describes looking down a corridor and seeing a line of grey heads — people in their 80s and 90s — receiving care in the hallway. Jean Moor, with 35 years of nursing behind her, says this is the worst she has ever witnessed. Staff go home each night hoping no one has died because care could not reach them in time.
The crisis has a traceable cause. Health NZ agreed to hire 25 new nurses for the North Shore ED. Nine arrived. The nurses' letter calls this a recruitment go-slow — a failure to honour commitments. The day after receiving the letter, Health NZ announced it would recruit 50 new nurses across both hospitals, with nine earmarked for North Shore ED. Group director Brad Healey framed the hires as a flexibility measure; chief executive Bramley urged seriously ill people to still present to the ED.
The nurses are unconvinced. Nine new hires cannot resolve a department already running at three times its capacity, from an organisation that previously promised 25 and delivered fewer than half. Health NZ has not addressed the specific conditions described in the letter. What remains is a department where vulnerable people wait in corridors without dignity, and where the staff keeping them alive are themselves running on empty.
At North Shore Hospital's emergency department, patients are waiting in beds soiled with their own waste. The corridors are packed so tightly that staff cannot move between them. The waiting rooms have overflowed into hallways lit by fluorescent lights where there is nowhere to hide, nowhere to recover with any sense of privacy or dignity. One hundred and twenty nurses who work in this department have written directly to Health NZ's chief executive, Dale Bramley, to say the emergency department is itself in a state of emergency.
Jean Classey, the charge nurse, describes the atmosphere as feral. The department has become so overwhelmed that basic care has become impossible. People cannot fit in the waiting areas. Incontinent patients sometimes remain in wet beds for extended periods because nurses simply cannot find the physical space to change them. Classey speaks of it as a nightmare, as war. She is one of the nurses protected by her role as a delegate for the New Zealand Nurses Organisation, which gives her some legal cover to speak publicly about what she is witnessing.
The numbers behind the crisis are stark. In July alone, nearly 14,000 patients moved through the North Shore and Waitakere emergency departments. The North Shore ED has operated at 300 percent capacity. Patients wait an average of 90 minutes just to be triaged. Heart scans that should happen immediately take hours. Some patients spend more than 50 hours in the emergency department waiting for a bed upstairs in the hospital. Others miss essential medications entirely. The nurses' letter to Bramley calls this crisis entirely predictable—the result of Health NZ's failure to adequately plan for winter demand.
Sharon Franklin-Smith, another nurse, describes looking down a corridor and seeing a line of grey heads—people in their 80s and 90s—receiving care in the hallway. She speaks of the broken hearts of staff who know these are someone's mother, someone's grandmother. Jean Moor, who has worked as a nurse for 35 years, says this is the worst she has ever seen it. The work itself has become unsustainable. Nurses are running constantly, their brains in overdrive, juggling their own patients, monitoring those waiting, and trying to organize assessments and treatments. Many go home each night hoping no one has died because they did not receive the care they needed.
The root of the crisis traces back to staffing promises that were not kept. Health NZ agreed to hire 25 new nurses for the North Shore ED. Only nine actually arrived. The nurses' letter describes this as a recruitment go-slow—a deliberate failure to follow through on commitments. The day after receiving the letter, Health NZ announced it would begin recruiting 50 new nurses across North Shore and Waitakere Hospitals, with nine designated for the North Shore emergency department. The organization also announced plans to hire 10 additional nurses and 14 health care assistants for a central team that could be deployed where demand surged.
Brad Healey, Health NZ's group director of operations, framed the new hires as a way to gain flexibility and respond to unexpected absences. He acknowledged that demand this winter had been much higher than in previous years, and that the organization's winter plan—which included moving care into the community and pushing patients through hospitals more quickly—had helped but was insufficient. Chief executive Dale Bramley urged seriously ill people to still come to the emergency department, where they would receive priority care.
But the nurses are clear: nine new hires are not enough. The department is already operating at three times its intended capacity. Health NZ had already failed to deliver on a commitment of 25 nurses. The organization has not responded to the detailed claims in the nurses' letter about the actual conditions of care. What remains is a department where elderly and vulnerable people wait in corridors without privacy, where basic dignity has become a luxury, and where the staff keeping them alive are themselves running on empty.
Citações Notáveis
Health New Zealand failed to adequately plan for winter demand, placing patients and staff at unnecessary risk.— The nurses' letter to Dale Bramley
That's someone's mother, grandmother and it breaks my heart, it absolutely breaks my heart.— Sharon Franklin-Smith, nurse