Ah, Central Zone—where AHS EMS has somehow managed to fail harder than a paramedic’s last nerve. Nearly 1,800 ambulance shutdowns in a single year? Spectacular. Hiring only 45 new paramedics to fill the gaps? Impressive commitment to failure. Pretending casual and overtime shifts are a viable staffing strategy? Chef’s kiss.
At this point, watching AHS EMS run the show is like watching a toddler pilot a 747—except the toddler might at least have the sense to call for help. AHS? They’re doubling down. And the Alberta government? Standing on the sidelines, golf-clapping their way through another round of “we’re monitoring the situation.”
But you know who’s actually holding these clowns accountable? We are. And you. And every pissed-off paramedic, firefighter, and citizen who refuses to let them get away with this nonsense.
Want to help us keep slamming AHS EMS with hard data, FOIP requests, and the kind of relentless mockery that keeps them awake at night? Check out our Give Send Go! Toss us $5, $10, or $15 (here)—not only does it keep this fight going, but it also pisses AHS off. And if there’s one thing we love more than exposing their failures, it’s watching them squirm.
Now, grab a coffee, buckle up, and let’s talk about just how bad things have gotten.
We talk a lot about the mess that is Alberta’s EMS crisis, and while opinions may vary on the finer details, one thing is pretty universally agreed upon: the problems started when paramedics were sentenced to life in hospital hallways. What was supposed to be a temporary Band-Aid for ER overcrowding somehow became the official solution—forever. Like a particularly aggressive cancer, that little issue metastasized into a whole slew of new ones, the biggest being vacancies.
We’ve been all over this province, and let us tell you, the vacancy lists are something else. When we got to Central Zone, we were expecting the usual disaster, but even we were a little stunned—54 pages long and nearly 1,800 ambulances sitting empty. It’s bad, but compared to some other areas, it’s not even the worst. (And isn’t that a terrifying thought?)
But here’s where things get downright egregious: these aren’t just any vacancies. These are from communities like Drumheller, Lacombe, Daysland, Eckville, and Camrose—the kinds of places where there’s already a microscopic number of ambulances. We’re talking one, maybe two if you're lucky, and three if someone upstairs is feeling particularly generous. So when one ambulance goes out of service, it’s not an inconvenience—it’s a total loss of that community’s EMS capacity. Hope you weren’t planning on having a heart attack, because your nearest ambulance just evaporated.
Here’s the kicker: in Central Zone, AHS EMS isn’t even the biggest EMS provider, and they still managed to fail nearly 1,800 times. That’s while competing with Beaver EMS, Medavie, Associated, Lakeside EMS, Stettler EMS, East Central EMS, Red Deer Fire and Rescue, and Maskwacis Ambulance Authority—to name just a few. It’s actually impressive to fail this spectacularly, but don’t worry—AHS EMS is always up for a challenge.
Now, you’d think that after racking up nearly 1,800 ambulance shutdowns in a year, any rational employer would be in full-blown emergency hiring mode. Like, “hit the gas, open the floodgates, hire every breathing paramedic with a pulse” kind of mode. So, did AHS EMS bring in 300 new paramedics? No. They hired 45.
But wait, it gets worse. Of those 45, only 9 got regular full-time jobs. Another 4 got temporary full-time jobs. And the rest? Don’t worry, AHS picked up 32 casual employees! (Which, as we all know, is just full-time work with zero commitment or benefits.) Oh, and fun fact—9 of those 32 were already full-time with AHS EMS but decided they’d had enough of this clown show.
To really drive the incompetence home, AHS EMS has already lost another full-timer to the casual pool this year. Because when your workplace is a dumpster fire, the only winning move is to stop playing.
Let’s talk about another disaster-in-the-making: discretionary work. AHS is leaning harder than ever on casuals and overtime, as if begging people to please, please pick up a shift is a viable staffing strategy. Instead of, you know, actually scheduling enough staff, they’re banking on guilt trips and desperation.
Here’s the problem—casuals don’t have to pick up shifts. And overtime? That’s optional too. But guess who’s keeping this system from collapsing even harder than 1,800 ambulance shutdowns in Central Zone? Yep, the discretionary medics—the ones who pick up extra shifts out of sheer pity (or questionable life choices).
And guess what these medics won’t do? Work on Christmas. Or New Year’s. Or Easter. Or long weekends. Nope. Not happening. But hey, if you’re lucky, maybe they’ll grace you with their presence on Tuesday morning.
Now, let’s talk numbers. Just how much of the system is being propped up by these "volunteer" shifts? Well, let’s do some quick math:
Overtime hours: 39,599.89
Casual hours: 55,472.64
Total OT + Casual hours: 95,072.53
To figure out how bad this dependency is, we compare it to total scheduled hours. If OT + Casual makes up 25% of total scheduled hours, then:
Total Scheduled Hours (TSH) = 95,072.53 ÷ 0.25 = 380,290.12 hours
Translation? A full quarter of the EMS workforce isn't actually scheduled—it's just people taking pity on a broken system and picking up shifts they don’t have to. And when those medics decide they’re done carrying the weight? Well, good luck with that.
When you look at Central Zone and all its contracted providers spread across the map, there’s an obvious beating heart in the middle of it—Red Deer. And if you want a front-row seat to the AHS EMS disaster in action, look no further.
Ironically, Red Deer is also home to Adriana LaGrange, our current Health Minister, who has been conspicuously ignoring the provincial EMS crisis. We’d even argue that this government tossed some cash at AHS, told them to staff a few new ambulances, gave hospitals a stern talking-to about releasing EMS crews within 45 minutes, kept an eye on things for about ten whole minutes, and then patted themselves on the back. Mission accomplished!
Except—spoiler alert—the second they turned around, AHS went right back to business as usual. Status quo. Hallway medicine. Endless shutdowns.
At this point, it looks like the government has adopted the mantra of the three wise monkeys—see no crisis, hear no crisis, speak no solutions. They’ve proven before that they can bring the hammer down when it’s politically convenient. But now? Is the hammer coming down in Red Deer, where things are imploding in real time? Nope. Not a chance.
Red Deer—especially its hospital—is the living, breathing embodiment of this system collapsing into a full-blown dumpster fire. And yet, everyone in charge is still standing around, roasting marshmallows.
Red Deer Regional Hospital had one job: clear EMS crews in 45 minutes or less, 90% of the time. AHS leadership and the Alberta government shook hands on it, made some grand promises, and then… well, let’s check the scoreboard for 2024:
Emergency Transports Stuck Past 45 Minutes
January: 54%
February: 45%
March: 45%
April: 50%
May: 47%
June: 53%
July: 53%
August: 53%
September: 52%
October: 42%
November: 42%
December: 55%
Inter-Facility Transfers (IFT) Stuck Past 45 Minutes
January: 66%
February: 60%
March: 57%
April: 64%
May: 58%
June: 62%
July: 58%
August: 62%
September: 64%
October: 67%
November: 61%
December: 63%
Instead of improving, hospitals have turned ambulances into a long-term valet service. The problem hasn’t been fixed—it’s just comfortably static, like that one piece of office furniture nobody wants to move, like IV chairs in EMS stations. Here’s where it gets worse. IFT delays. These aren’t regular emergency calls—these are patients who already have a bed somewhere else. The whole point is to move them out quickly to free up space for the next patient. Instead? They’re dumped into the ER first, because why not pile on another layer of inefficiency?
So what’s the response from AHS and hospital administrators? Expand surge capacity? Nope. That would make too much sense. Instead, they double down on the dysfunction. Because in their world, EMS is just hospital property. A paramedic stuck in a hallway holding a clipboard? Same as one actually responding to emergencies.
They genuinely don’t understand that EMS isn’t just another hospital department—it’s an entirely different system with a different mission, but let’s be clear: EMS is NOT health care. It’s an emergency service. And as long as AHS keeps treating paramedics like hallway security guards instead of first responders, this system will stay broken.
And this isn’t just an AHS failure—it’s a government failure. The government set the rules, made the promises, and yet here we are. If they don’t step in, one might be forgiven for assuming this is how they want it. Underfunded. Permanently broken. Dependent on crisis-mode staffing just to function.
Albertans cannot allow this dysfunction to become the norm. The government must be held to account. If they refuse to fix it, they need to be reminded—loudly and often—who they actually work for. Before AHS even tries to spin this—we already know their playbook:"Yes, last year was rough, but don’t worry, we have a plan!"
Cool. Let’s preemptively crush that nonsense with actual numbers:
Emergency transports exceeding 45 minutes (Jan 2025): 55%
Inter-facility transports exceeding 45 minutes (Jan 2025): 64%
So unless their “plan” was to keep doing exactly what wasn’t working before, we’re calling it now: They’ve got nothing. This isn’t just mismanagement. This is failure. If the Alberta government refuses to fix this, then it’s time to start asking:
Do they actually want it this way?
This practice shows contempt for patients in the community who are in need of emergency care and transport. Hospital over crowding might be a problem but guess what else is a problem? Pre-hospital emergencies and these hospitals are preventing these people from getting care.
Is that it, though? Is that where the problems end? Oh, if only. If we go by provincial trends, EMS call volumes are constantly increasing. So, logically, you’d think AHS would recognize this and—wild idea here—actually try to fix it. Maybe even be part of the solution?
Yeah, no. That would require effort. Instead, let’s talk about Red Deer Regional, where transfer volumes are so out of control that, on average, 440 transports a month have to be dumped onto emergency ambulances.
Now, AHS would probably jump in here, waving their hands, saying, "But wait! That’s why we brought in dedicated IFT (Inter-Facility Transfer) resources!" Adorable. Here’s the problem: it doesn’t matter. Even with the extra IFT units, the volume is still too high for them to handle. So what happens? The overflow gets offloaded onto emergency ambulances—because apparently, nothing screams "efficient healthcare system" like taking life-saving resources away from actual emergencies in the communities.
Let’s talk about the fallout from all this dysfunction.
Over the last five years, regional ambulances have been flexed into Red Deer on average over 3,000 times a year—which is just a fancy way of saying ambulances are being sucked out of their own communities to bail out Red Deer’s mess. So what does that look like?
Sylvan Lake? One less ambulance.
Innisfail? One less ambulance.
Stettler? Hope you weren’t planning on an emergency.
Our biggest gripe here is why are these town councils not asking questions, demanding monthly reports and banging down the door of the health ministers office.
And it gets worse. The ripple effect stretches all the way to places like Hanna, where an EMS unit might transport a patient to Red Deer and then—surprise!—can’t get back. Hanna’s down an ambulance, and that’s just one example.
How many other communities are stuck in this cycle? How many towns send patients to Red Deer, only for their ambulance to vanish into the black hole of hospital transfers? AHS calls this a “strength” of the “borderless” system. Sure. If by “strength” you mean robbing rural communities of emergency resources to keep Red Deer’s system from collapsing on paper.
It gets even worse. Let’s talk about how much outside help Red Deer actually needs.
Over the last five years, ambulances from outside Red Deer have been dispatched to calls inside Red Deer nearly 2,500 times per year—because, apparently, the city can’t keep itself afloat. But don’t worry, last year was an overwhelming success with only 1,294 outside ambulances called in. Pop the champagne, AHS! That’s what we’re calling a “win” now.
This isn’t just another failure of the so-called “borderless” system—it’s another example of rural communities being drained dry to prop up a failing urban EMS structure. And when you put this number in context with everything else we’ve uncovered—ambulances trapped in hospital hallways, IFT trips taking forever, EMS units vanishing from small towns—it paints a grim picture. Rural communities cannot afford to be without their ambulances. Yet here we are, with AHS forcing EMS into the round hole of healthcare, when it damn well belongs in the square hole of public safety.
Oh, but wait! The critics are probably furiously smashing their keyboards right now, screaming that we’re ignoring a huge improvement. “1294 is way better than 2022, when the number was 4306! Give AHS some credit!”
Alright, fine—let’s do that. Let’s give them all the credit they deserve.
Now, let’s take a quick peek at regional staffing numbers. You know, the staffing for stations that technically belong to the Red Deer region but aren’t actually in Red Deer itself. What do we find? Well, transfer volumes are still through the roof, ambulances are still being held hostage in hospital hallways for hours, and—oh yeah—12% of the regional ambulances weren’t even staffed last month. And guess what? Last year wasn’t any better! So, sure, the numbers are down. But maybe—just maybe—it’s because they didn’t have the ambulances to send in the first place.
So, what have we learned? That Central Zone EMS is being held together with duct tape, overtime guilt trips, and whatever paramedics they can guilt into picking up yet another shift. The staffing crisis isn’t a fluke—it’s the direct result of bad management, bad planning, and a complete disregard for the well-being of the people actually responding to emergencies. But don’t worry, I’m sure AHS will roll out another PR campaign, AHS Communications trumpeting excuses to any reporter brave enough to ask, telling you everything is fine while more ambulances sit empty.
If you’re as fed up with this nonsense as I am, you can help keep the spotlight on their failures. Support the fight at https://www.givesendgo.com/GC4M8—because calling out AHS’s incompetence is practically a full-time job at this point.
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