The Best and the Worst of the NHS

Mick the porter is a cheery chap. He's come to take me down to xray.
It's Saturday; Day two after my operation. Mick and Nurse Alice coax and cajole me into a wheelchair. I'm reluctant to move too much. Last night whilst the nurses where getting me back into bed I experienced pain like I have never known before. Trust me I'm no wimp - I have fillings at the dentist without any anaesthetic... But whilst sitting on the edge of the bed the nurses started to turn my legs to swing them into bed, unfortunately I didn't turn my bum and hips at the same time. It felt as if someone had poured petrol down my legs from hip to toe and then set fire to it - so I had this wave of burning pain moving down my legs - it took my breath away to say the least.
Anyway the result of that experience is that I am now a little reluctant to do anything that involves swinging my legs. Nurse Alice was there last night and she seems to understand. Between them they get me into the wheelchair and off we go xray bound!

Mick is obviously very experienced at wheeling patients and wheelchairs around the hospital - as we approach a set of double doors at some considerable speed he senses me tensing up and reassures me...

"Don't worry mate I haven't crashed a patient into these doors for... Oh at least an hour!"

At the last second he swings the wheelchair round and reverses me through the doors. He's smiling and although my heart rate is through the roof I find myself smiling as well and I know I'm in safe hands.When we arrive at the xray department there is a queue of three other wheelchair bound patients and various walking wounded waiting to be xrayed. He parks me next to the other wheelchairs and with a cheery 'See you later' heads off into the bowels of the hospital.
The doors to the xray room are wide open. It's being cleaned. So we know we are in for a bit of a wait. I chat happily to the hip replacement next to me. She's even younger than I am. Thirty Eight! The knee replacement in front of me is a bit grumpy - he's got a real downer on NHS food and is having a Kentucky Fried food parcel brought in tonight. The other wheelchair is occupied by a leg in plaster covered in graffiti - he's reading the Sun and wearing a baseball cap. Strangely he ignores the rest of us. After twenty minutes or so the xray room doors are closed and things start to move.The graffiti leg goes in first. He comes out some time later looking very pale. His baseball cap is on his lap and the Sun newspaper is nowhere to be seen. He's swearing under his breath. He looks at us and shakes his head as a porter wheels him away.
"Well!" exclaims the knee replacement "He's not a happy chappy is he!"
The young hip replacement is next. I can hear raised voices from within the xray room - all is not well.
When she eventually emerges she's in tears.
"What on earth happened?" I ask nervously.
She's sobbing now and almost unable to speak.
"Expected me to get on the table without any help... she didn't help at all... just stood there while I struggled..."
"What?" I'm stunned by this and knowing how I struggled last night I have to say that I have a feeling of impending doom.

It's my turn now.
"Right!" I say "We'll see about that!"
A porter wheels me in an parks me a good few feet away from the xray table and departs without speaking to the commandant of camp xray. I get the feeling people are a bit scared of her.
I turn my head and there she is... She's big and menacing, yet her eyes are bovine, dull and lifeless.
I got the impression that here was a woman who didn't really want to be here.
"Lie on the table for me." She's going through the motions.
"Given that I had a hip replacement two days ago how do you propose I do that?" I thought it was a pretty good opening line.
She pushes the wheelchair closer to the table.

"Thanks!" Trust me - sarcasm is wasted here.

I concede at this point that I might have to at least try. She's standing there just watching me.I stand and shuffle to the edge of the table. With a bit of effort I get my bum parked. I try to lift my legs attempting to swing them around.My worst fear is realised as fire like pain spreads down my legs, I gasp and give in, putting my feet firmly back on the ground.
She hasn't moved. Her expression hasn't changed.
"OK now either you're going to have to help me here or you'd better go and get someone else to help me. I cannot and will not do this unaided!"
She walks out without a word.

"I don't believe it!" (Oh no I've turned into Victor Meldrew!)

After several minutes she returns accompanied by a tiny smiling nurse. The nurse reassures me and gently, expertly assists me onto the table.She waits patiently until the xrays are done and then helps me back into my wheelchair. She is all grace and professionalism. She is what makes the NHS the envy of the world.I realise that in this room I have the best and the worst of the NHS.

I realise too that the NHS is not about money and budgets, targets and league tables, policies and regulations; It's about people.

So; To the bovine workers who are just going through the motions - please leave and get a job in a factory somewhere.

To those people who care day in and out, to the doctors and nurses, cleaners, administrators, porters, managers. To those people who believe in what they do, who want to make a difference and do make a difference - Respect!

Well - it is the NHS you know!

Guilty Pleasures.

Go on admit it! You have a whole raft of guilty pleasures hidden away - things that you adore in secret. Pleasures that you indulge in whenever you get the chance but wouldn't admit to anyone!


I do. Lets see...


I like the Xfactor! I can't believe Austin got knocked out so early! What I really like, what amazes me every year is that the contestants, love 'em or loathe 'em are singing live. Live!

How many of your so called superstars can actually do that? I've heard old Madge live and trust me it wasn't good. I even picked up my phone last year and voted for Leona Lewis!


I'd kill for Jaffa cakes! In order to beat my daughter to them I hide the packet in my desk. I know I'm a terrible father!


I'm a bit of a sucker for romantic comedies... Sleepless in Seattle... Love Actually... Four Weddings... you know that sort of thing!


ABBA! I know... I am truly ashamed... but there is something, I don't know... happy about their music that always gets to me and I end up, heaven forbid, singing along! This is not something that any other living human being should experience... me singing... Yuck!


What else... Hmmm... I'd love to learn to dance.... say the Salsa... or even a bit of ballroom! I think it would be really neat when you go out with your loved one to be able to just get up and dance simply for the fun of it!


Talking of dancing I suppose I should add the film 'Dirty Dancing' to my list of guilty pleasures.
If I could get half the reaction from women that He gets when he looks in her eyes like that then I'd die a happy man... Come on! You know what I mean!


And one final one. One that I have just discovered after returning to work last Friday.
I actually like the people I work with and I've missed them.


But, of course, if you mention any of these to anyone I'll deny them totally and completely!
I've got my reputation to think of after all!

The things they don't tell you...

In no particular order...

1 - Painkillers in high doses cause constipation

I've been chewing on something like 4000mg of paracetamol and 240mg of Codeine Phosphate

a day since the operation so no wonder my innards have been somewhat quiet recently;

quiet... they've been bloody comatose!

So now I'm off to the Docs to get something to free things up... if you get my drift.

2 - Having a catheter removed can be painful...

Nurse Gladys distinctly said it wouldn't hurt. OK I accept that my definition of pain may differ
to some extent from hers but trust me that made my eyes water...

3 - Having the drains removed can be VERY painful...

I had two tubes inserted just above the wound site - they are put there to drain blood / fluid
from the wound and this helps to reduce bruising... so far so good.

Two nurses came round to remove the drain. It was a bit like 'Good cop, Bad cop...'

"Ok Robin you wont feel a thing..." Nurse Crippen says as she's preparing the swabs and trays
and whatever instruments of pain she enjoys using.

Nurse Alice leans over and whispers confidentially "It can hurt sometimes... especially when
She does it...

Nurse Alice was right... That was a real toe curler!

4 - Real men don't look good in stockings

Look at the evidence...

I mean.... look at it... I have one elephant sized leg and one wimpy little leg. I look like a reject from the Rocky Horror Show! (there is a full length shot of me and my stockings but it's just too horrible to publish here! Private viewings can be arranged if required...)

I rest my case...

5 - Morphine makes you giggle

Yes of course it does... everyone knows that... The liquid Morphine that I had the Saturday
after the op didn't take any pain away... But who cares! It's Sooooooo funny! Ha ha! He he!

Does it affect everyone like this?

6 - Simple things please simple minds...

I thought this was highly appropriate...

Some people didn't get it?

7 - Laxatives in the right doses can have the desired effect.

Sorry got to go...

Me and My Arrow...

You may have gathered from previous posts that I am something of a gadget freak. I like technology. I appreciate how sometimes man invents a new technology just because he can and then sets about finding a way to use it in practical everyday ways. I like the way he keeps trying and trying until the world finally gets it. And I particularly like the way he solves problems using innovative technology.

Imagine then how my gadget loving brain was going to solve one of my real worries over this operation. I'm having a hip replacement. My right hip to be precise. Not my left hip. That was my concern.

What happens if they do the wrong one? How can I be sure that they'll do the right one - I mean the correct one?

I decided first off that I could encase my good leg in a metal jacket locked with a combination that only I know... Hmmm... probably a bit over ambitious for a man with my DIY track record. How about an alarm system wired to my good leg... Mmmmm me and electricity? I think I'll pass on that one too! No I need something simple... something foolproof... something that even the consultant couldn't miss...

Well... It is the NHS you know...

A message from K2 basecamp...

K2, the mountain, peaks at 8,611 metres above sea level.

The distance from K2 to the bathroom in Tye Green Ward is about fifty feet. Of course this particular K2 is not the mountain. It's my hospital bed. I think you'd probably figured something along those lines already...

I'm out of bed; It's day two according to the NHS way of counting... so it's actually day four.

I'm sitting in my chair listening to 'two knees' telling a story about using a bedpan (these are very exciting times.) The part of the story where he slides off and sends the contents flying is actually quite amusing!

However, a part of my brain has already latched onto this situation and has figured that my chances of reaching the lavvy unaided in time are pretty remote and that if nature calls unexpectedly I am, to use the vernacular, up s*&^ creek without a paddle.

I could just give in, I suppose, and ask for a bedpan when the need arises - but hey! Where's the story in that?

I know this is dumb but this is the kind of thing that motivates me. I will not and cannot contemplate the indignity of having to use a bedpan - I know! I said it was dumb but there is no way as long as there is strength in me that I am not going to the loo under my own steam!

Physio are due to see me in a couple of hours - they'll get me to stand using a frame and take a few steps. Yeah right!

I ask the nurse to pass me the walking frame - she's busy and doesn't think twice. I haul myself up and by the time physio arrive I'm smiling again - I've been to the loo and back again twice - not to do anything but just to know I can do it.

After she has taught me to stand and take a few steps she says that I look tired.

I am.

But I'm fired up as well - I know I'm on my way back now.

From the Diary of a Madman...

I've had a bit of a nap. The op seems like hours ago and now I start to examine the damage.
I've got tubes coming out of me in all directions and from all sorts of places.
I've got saline and morphine drips going into my left arm and there are two drain tubes coming out of my right hip - these disappear, at least from my restricted point of view, under the bed and into the floor, the tubes carrying on underground for miles until they connect with still more tubes from hundreds more patients eventually poring into a massive steaming subterranean cauldron...

What? Sorry - don't know what happened there... Ahem...

Where was I? Oh yes - So my left hand starts to explore and finds another tube. I give it a tug and wince as the ball of fire travels up my todger, past the crown jewels and explodes somewhere close to what I guess is my bladder!
"Ah! That'll be the catheter then!" I giggle slightly.

The nurse comes round and picks up the catheter tube - she is staring intently at it. I smile sweetly and try desperately not to pee... And I giggle again. I think this is very funny. She stomps off.

Opposite me 'two knees' is sitting on his bed with his legs up - he has a large blue elastic band that stretches round both feet and he is pulling on it like a catapult.
"On me 'ed Son" I say out loud - everyone stops and looks at me - there are now hundreds of people in the ward most of whom I know. My giggling breaks free again and turns rapidly into
hysterics, uncontrollable waves of side splitting laughter - however I am the only one laughing. Everyone else has gathered around my bed and is staring menacingly at me... They start to chant "Pull it out... Pull it out..."

I'm still giggling as everything goes black again...

Don't you just hate it when dreams end like that?

Don't blink or you'll miss it!

I've been pursuing this operation for years. It's been month's in the planning. Countless weeks of preparation. I've made hundreds of phone calls over the years, sent dozens of emails - Good Lord! I've even used one of those long pointy things called pens to write real letters to real people. Over time I must have seen a dozen or so different Consultants all over the country. I've watched videos of the op - read books, articles - I've even considered doing it myself! It has, to say the least, been prominent in my life for quite sometime.

Today is OP day... And here I am sitting in bed on my ward - I've just sent a text message to Lin to say I'm OK, that the op is done and all is well... and yet I feel robbed...

Let me explain:

I was expecting Holby City or for those old enough to remember - Emergency Ward 10. I wanted dashing surgeons and glamorous nurses, flashing lights and drama - I wanted to see the mighty machines that were going to keep me alive throughout my ordeal - to see tubes going everywhere carrying liquids of many colours and shiny instruments ready to cut into my flesh...

What I got was this...

I'm lying on a trolley surrounded by three guys in silly hats and even sillier glasses. One leans over and says something like "We're just going to lower the back down Robin and then we can give you something to help you sleep..."
I blink...
The guy in the funny hat has turned into a smiling nurse in a funny hat.
"Hello Robin... All done now!"

I lift my head
"You're kidding me... that can't possibly be it..."

I blink again and I'm back on my ward... game over... and bugger me I missed it!
I don't even feel groggy.

So if you want to know what it's like to have an operation these days I'm afraid I'm not the man to ask - haven't a clue... not the foggiest. I just blinked and that was it.