Lu Teng approaches the living room window where his baby boy would peer out, looking for any sign of his father waving back.
Now when Lu returns from work, his boy — named Luca, which means brightness — isn’t there anymore.
“I used to trust them with everything,” he said of the health-care system, “but right now in my mind, I think they killed Luca.
“It’s not a certain person — the whole system, the hospital.”
Lu took his six-month-old son to Winnipeg’s Children’s Hospital in mid-January, believing the emergency department was the right place to help his child. Ten hours later, his baby was taken into surgery and died.
Luca waited for hours at the Children’s Hospital after an X-ray appeared to show a hole in his esophagus.
However, health officials told the family the response was timely based on what they knew about the boy’s condition.
Luca was born last July with esophageal atresia, a condition in which the esophagus and stomach aren’t connected.
He had complex but successful surgery two days after his birth, and returned to hospital Jan. 12 for what had become a routine procedure, a dilation, which stretched out the narrow areas of his esophagus to make it easier to swallow food.
Luca endured this procedure seven times before, but this one was different: while being fed afterward, he started choking, his father said.
“I told the nurse, ‘This is uncommon,'” he said.
But his son was still discharged.
Rushed back to hospital
Luca returned home, was fed again and the problems continued. He wouldn’t stop coughing. He had no bowel movements.
Something was amiss, his parents thought, and Luca was rushed back to the Children’s Hospital around 6 p.m.
After 30 minutes, Lu said he asked medical staff if he could feed Luca again and was granted permission.
After one hour, Luca had an X-ray taken that appeared to show a hole in his esophagus, likely caused by a dilation, a doctor later told the family.
A pediatric surgeon not involved in Luca’s care said a rupture is the main risk with dilation.
Often the hole repairs itself, said Dr. Sherif Emil, who practices at Montreal Children’s Hospital, but sometimes it doesn’t.
“Saliva is leaking into the chest. The child can become very unstable and may need emergency surgery.”
Lu said he wasn’t alarmed by the perforation, because his son was already at the hospital, though he expressed concern to staff as the hours slipped away and his son, still in the emergency department, kept crying.
Nurses repeatedly entered the room to silence the heart rate monitor, sometimes hitting 200 beats per minute, as its alarm went off, the father said.
Lu’s mother worked as a health-care aide in China and visited Canada on a visitor’s visa to take care of Luca.
“She kept telling me the vital is not good. Let doctor know that,” he said, but he told his mom not to worry — Luca spent the first four months of his life under the care of this hospital.
“Everyone is going to try everything to help him,” he remembers saying.
However, Lu’s confidence wavered around 4 a.m., when Luca was suddenly whisked into surgery and tubes were inserted into his chest.
Sometime later, a surgeon asked Lu if he could open Luca’s chest in a last-ditch effort to save his life. Luca didn’t survive the surgery.
“His mom almost fall down to the floor, and I have to hold my wife, my mom,” he said of the moment he learned he’d leave the hospital without his only child.
“I cry, but I have no strength to say anything.”
Tormented by guilt
Lu says he feels numb, and he’s racked with guilt for trusting the hospital, for bringing his family to Canada three years ago, for dismissing his father-in-law’s suggestion months earlier that Luca be sent to China to ensure proper medical care, and for telling his wife to go home that last night so she would be rested to take care of Luca the next day while he worked.
He feels the blame from members of his family and himself.
“For my 32 years of life, I always think emergency is a place you send the patient in, they take care of it immediately,” he said.
But at the Children’s Hospital, they “let us wait.”
(Submitted by Lu Teng)
The tragedy is at least the third death in three months of a patient at a Winnipeg hospital following what family say was too long a wait for care. Each death is being investigated as a critical incident, the province confirmed.
The Opposition Progressive Conservatives are calling for a public inquiry into the deaths. Critical incident reviews are internal and there’s no accountability to the public, health critic Kathleen Cook said.
“This family deserves answers about what specifically happened to their son, and Manitobans deserve answers about what’s happening in our emergency rooms and why people are dying waiting for care,” she said.
Median wait times at Winnipeg hospitals and urgent care centres hit 4.1 hours in December 2025, the longest wait in 10-plus years, according to Winnipeg Regional Health Authority monthly data.
Health Minister Uzoma Asagwara deflected the Tory call for a public inquiry, saying a critical incident review is thorough enough to uncover what happened and determine if any lessons need to be learned.
The minister said they were informed Luca received care in a “timely and appropriate manner,” but won’t dispute the experience of the family, who feel differently.
“I think it’s really important for us to not doubt families or question families. Our job is to listen, understand and get them the answers that they need,” Asagwara said.
Luca’s father and mother met with health officials on Monday.
The family said officials told them they followed protocol for a baby presenting with a hole in the esophagus, given that the tear often heals on its own. They gave Luca antibiotics and opted for surgery once they realized he was struggling to breathe.
The family was also told hospital staff wanted to admit Luca to another ward earlier in the night, but no beds were available.
Many of the family’s other questions cannot be answered until the critical incident review and autopsy are complete, Lu said.
Luca was also born with patent ductus arteriosus, a hole between the pulmonary artery and aorta in his heart, but Lu was previously told he didn’t have to worry about it.
The meeting with hospital officials didn’t cushion his pain, he said, and he still says medical staff didn’t act quickly enough, pointing to the continuous beeping of the heart rate monitor as one example.
On a recent morning, memories of Luca are everywhere at the family’s Transcona apartment — from unused diapers to the play mat he spent hours on — but pictures of him and most of his clothes are packed away, as his parents cannot bear the reminders.
Luca’s mother, Yaqi Zhang, falls to her knees beside her son’s crib, where his favourite toys and the last outfit he wore are carefully laid out.
“I take many pictures and videos [of Luca] every day, but the last day, I have nothing,” she says, sobbing.
Lu says his wife and mother sometimes look out the window when he returns from work, but not always.
There are memories he doesn’t want to dim.
He remembers Luca tilting his head so he could gently rub it, or Luca rubbing one of his ears, a habit he learned from his dad.
“After he was born,” Lu said, wiping tears from his eyes, “he gave me everything.”
The parents of Luca Teng are searching for answers after a routine dilation for their six-month-old son turned tragic. Family says hospital staff didn’t rush him into surgery fast enough, but health officials say they followed protocols.
