Choice Blog

A patient's-eye view of struggling NHS

Luckily I have not had to go to hospital many times in my life since my first experience which involved that juvenile ritual of having tonsils out. It was made bearable by kindly nurses  and reassurances that soon I would be able to go back home.

Nowadays, we read and hear about the ailing NHS at some point in any week, and despite its many failings and the enormous cost involved, you'd be hard pressed to come across anyone who doesn't think it's a jewel in Britain's crown

Controversies about waiting lists, queues of ambulances outside hospitals, shortages of skilled staff continue to dominate the headlines- and no wonder; we all want to be cared for when illness strikes.

Recently, after an operation, I had the chance to sit back and gain a patient's view of one ward, in one department, in one hospital. Ironically, in this age of advances communication, what was most obvious was that at best it was unreliable. At the outset I was initially mistaken for another patient, my long-awaited consultant's appointment was cancelled, and my operation postponed. Some processes seemed to be duplicated and there was not certainty about where my records might be.

the GP record provides details of what drugs a patient is on, and mine were additionally listed my a nurse on records at two pre-op sessions, so I  wondered why the 'very busy' hospital pharmacy later sent two members of staff on a walk, separately, to ask me what medication I was taking.

Having been a patient, I now understand reports that, in general, around two hours of time in operating theatres is wasted each day. An avoidable hitch meant that I went down to the theatre at least an hour later than planned. I ended up with super care and a good outcome but from the patient's bed you pick up the stress that hangs over medical staff. I saw little failings occur and wondered why hospital managers (said to be handsomely paid) haven't sorted them out.

I also witnessed sorely stretched people doing their best within a huge and complex monolith- such a  far cry from the old cottage hospitals- and heard a poor nurse having to tell an elderly patient who had been admitted as an emergency three weeks before that his operation was being postpones...for the sixth time.

Later, this long-suffering gentleman was treated to a wash by a sweet and sympathetic young health worker whose manner reminded me of the kindly nurse who, 70 years ago, eased my fear of being in hospital by promising me an ice cream to soothe the place where my tonsils had been.

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