Thank you, Madam Chair, and committee members, for this opportunity.
I'd like to begin by talking about the role infection prevention and control play when it comes to antimicrobial stewardship. I'm sure there are people presenting today who know a lot more about infection prevention and control. I'm approaching this as a manufacturer, and I hope I'll be able to bring some new information to the table.
Our premise is that helping people not get sick is probably one of the best tools we have when it comes to slowing antimicrobial resistance. Our frontline health care workers try to do this in a number of ways. I've worked in hospitals in infection prevention and control. I'm sure you are all aware that there are campaigns across the country about washing your hands. You're also familiar with the role PPE plays in protecting frontline health care workers and the patients they care for simultaneously.
I'm going to focus today on single-use isolation gowns, which play an important part in our system's overall infection prevention and control strategy. Typically, these gowns are made from man-made fabrics like polypropylene. Polypropylene is layered during manufacturing to create spunbonded surfaces with a meltblown centre. Then they're sold in bulk to companies that cut the gowns out of the material and weld the seams together using ultrasonics, and then fold, bag and box them and send them out for shipment. This is what my company does. We have a facility in Chatham, Ontario, of 38,000 square feet, and we use robots to manufacture.
Here's a bit of science. The level of protection an isolation gown offers is determined by how it stands up to fluid penetration in testing, as decided upon by the Association for the Advancement of Medical Instrumentation, or AAMI. The AAMI tells us that we need to test both the gown's material and its seams, and how to conduct these tests, which are typically done by an accredited laboratory.
How a gown performs is determined by several factors, including the quality of the polypropylene, the density of the material and the integrity of the welded seams. A level one gown offers the lowest level of protection, while a level four gown offers the highest. Health care professionals are trained to know which level of gown they need to wear for effective protection. This is where the rubber hits the road. Their decision is based on information the gown manufacturers have provided to the buyers at the institution in question. I'm here to tell you today that that information is frequently untrue.
Here's a series of facts. Number one is that, according to the National Research Council, our country goes through 8.7 million isolation gowns a month.
Number two is that the vast majority of these gowns are made in Southeast Asia, mostly in China. They're imported into America by a handful of companies, which then ship them to Canada and sell them to our health care institutions. These are the same companies that were on deck to provide Canada with emergency PPE when the pandemic hit in 2020, and we all know how that story ended.
Number three is that although these importers have valid Health Canada medical device establishment licences for their warehouses here, the factories making the gowns—many of which are in the Uyghur Autonomous Region of China, in violation of Bill S-211—do not.
Number four is that any company can run multiple tests for compliance with AAMI standards and cherry-pick their results. Nobody needs to know how many times your gowns fail before they finally pass.
Number five is that once you have a lab result, there's no follow-up. If a company changes its material supplier or its place of manufacture, nobody is watching. Nobody is going to know.
Last but not least, number six is that no one is even checking to see whether these labs are authentic. During the pandemic, my company encountered multiple organizations and other companies using falsified lab reports to sell their gowns to hospitals, shared services organizations and even the federal government.
As a result, frontline health care workers were being given substandard gowns to wear, some of which were highly flammable, and Canada has over 100 million dollars' worth of isolation gowns in the national emergency strategic stockpile, NESS, right now that were made by companies that provided false lab reports. Fortunately, these gowns were procured by the government and are unlikely to be used. The last of the NESS gowns were delivered in March 2022 with a two-year shelf life, meaning they've long since expired and have not been replaced.
What's the take-away from all of this? If we're going to practise good antimicrobial stewardship, we need to start buying PPE that actually meets AAMI standards. It's a failure that lives at the intersection of our health care procurement policies and procedures, and I think it's having an effect not only on antimicrobial resistance, but on everybody in the country, from hospitals to the federal government.