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!