Wednesday, February 05, 2003

Wednesday later

Day started off bad - blizzard conditions and early rise. Got to Aintree 10 mins late. Reported to admissions room, and handed in my slip of paper. Which consisted of several questions, the answers to which were all contained in the letter they sent with said admission slip. What was this then - a literacy test. The lady took it off me and checked the details all without a word. She then gave me garbled directions to ward 61, to be fair the admissions office was in crisis, the printer had just gone down (been unplugged) and the kettle was broke. Pleased with the return of the printer to working status she now gave me a new admission slip (3 copies of same info). There was a desk labelled PALS in the reception, where I would have commented but I was Billy-no-mates. Trekked to ward 61, with heavy bag. Rabbit warren of a place full of very ill looking people (last legs type stuff). The nurses were in some sort of meeting, all sat round drinking tea, they told me to go and wait in the dayroom.The description and directions were poor, it was actually a cupboard, with an artificial plant and several chairs. There was a nice couple who had arrived half an hour early (he waiting for gall bladder out). We were then joined by a couple from Wigan, who had clearly suffered at the hands of Wigan Hospitals inc. He had been told that he had inoperable cancer of the common bile duct (pancreas type area). A chance comment had led to him being referred to Aintree where it was now operable. We had since been joined by a fourth patient. He had worse cancer than the first guy and he used to be a docker. There then followed a rapid exchange of which of their offal was being removed, each upping the other one in every one. Mr Docker won when he reported his wife had died from cancer last year. Neither of them were impressed with plain old ordinary gall bladder chap so I was rather nervous when they asked what I was in for. I was tempted just to show my scar and claim full offal removal, but I came clean and no one was impressed. We had a great discussion for about two hours covering all subjects. Punctuated by 2 trays of tea. About 11.30 Sister came to inform us there were no beds, but she was working on it. To be fair we had a good old natter and the time flew. Subjects included War, asylum seekers, pubs, Michael Jackson. Docker didn't take a daily paper, wigan and gallman were daily mail readers, kept my pinko guardian in my bag.
Another sister appeared and claimed gall man and me. We were off to ward one. I became alarmed at the signs reading department of reproductive medicine, gynae assessment and "what are polycystic ovaries." Clearly that was the first stage when entered ENT land, people with strange nose bandages, at the end of the corridor was our destination - odds and sods quick turnaround. Take a seat in the dayroom, cupboard with window and telly, gall man was whisked off. We were soon joined by Wigan man and lunch. There were about seven other people clearly waiting for beds. Lunch was some ice cream after a lengthy discussion about diets with the hostess. Whisked off by sister to clerk me in. Need to see a doc she said, it looks busy I said I don't mind doing what needs doing then sleeping at home. She said all of you are doing that anyway. Back to day room were everyone was reading the daily mail, its getting worse. Doctor appears explains what I was having done quite well and got me to sign the form. Can I go now sister? No you need to have blood taken . Fair enuff, join queue of seven. Can I go now sister, no you need to see junior doc. And that will be when - an hour or so...ok so off to Sefton suite where I had the op to see the staff. And a guy waiting for the op that day - he was nervous, I had a good natter with him I hope it was useful. Staff dead impressed with weight loss. Ward one rang to say I was needed back to see doc. Arrived back saw doc an hour later. Can I go now sister - no you need ECG. Surely this could be done better, one of the women waiting was ready to freak out - if this was France there would be riots she said. Cant we get primary and secondary care sorted better to waste less of my time? Called in to see B bypass patient on Sefton suite 1 week post op and going home tomorrow, had a good natter and hope it helped her - certainly helped me. Picked up by Jean and Ally. Back home feeling goosed and a bit like things were so bad in the NHS..

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