NHS gold service (here we go again...)

NHS gold service

I could not have had better service from the NHS throughout the last six months.

They say the NHS is the nearest thing the British now have to a collective religion. I'm a card-carrying member of the Church of England - but I can see the truth in this.

Actually I think the whole idea of the NHS has profoundly moral - even theological - underpinnings. It's based on a belief that each person has value in and of themselves. It is one of the few areas left in our collective life that is actively egalitarian. It is about need, not about some kind of perceived 'worth'. 

As I said in my first blog, I've been pretty healthy for most of my life, but my husband has had different health problems and issues and I've sat next to him in many a hospital corridor or waiting room, plus I've had two kids and been in and out of casualty and Minor Injuries over the years.

Reflecting on my experiences recently, I realise that as a cancer patient, I have been on the receiving end of the NHS gold service. Despite the huge pressures caused by COVID, appointments have been sorted within days. Scans have been arranged and treatment begun. We've been kept informed throughout by a liaison nurse who rings most weeks to see how I'm doing.

Add to this the support of voluntary organisations like Macmillan Cancer Support and the Wessex Cancer Trust. They not only fill the gaps in NHS provision but have lobbied for things like free parking for cancer patients.

(I know that because I once applied for a campaigning job at Macmillan.) 

My chemo has been taking place in a private hospital, taken over by the NHS during COVID, which is busy, but a haven of calm compared to the main hospital.

It's made me acutely aware how fortunate I am to live in a country where all this is just there for me, without a bill, without a limit. I can't imagine what it would feel like if I was having to think about whether I could afford treatment, or what my insurance would cover.

And it's also made me realise that - while I'm hugely grateful for this 'gold service' - not all parts of the NHS are quite like this.

I mentioned in my last blog that after my first chemo treatment I ended up being transferred to A&E for the evening to be monitored.  

It was just before Christmas, COVID was beginning to hit, staff were indescribably busy. After my one-to-one service up at the chemo unit, it was a bit of a shock to be basically ignored as staff rushed past, on to the next patient.

In the bay opposite me, a young teenage girl was throwing a hissy fit at the prospect of having a line put into her arm. Neither her mother, or the nurses, seemed to be getting anywhere. In the end, it was a young doctor who was able to persuade her - with tact, respect and gentleness.

Along the corridor was another Mary (always distracting to hear your own name) who I imagine was an older woman, possibly with dementia, who had possibly had a fall. The nurses were talking to her, reassuring her, telling her what was going to happen.

An older man was taken past on a trolley, being given oxygen. A young man, possibly high on drugs, was being calmed in a bay nearby.

This is the sharp end of the NHS. All life is here. This is where the ideal of treating people according to need, irrespective of anything else, becomes a reality. And there isn't enough time, and there clearly weren't enough staff, and everyone is overworked. I can't imagine how it is two weeks on with COVID cases effectively out of control.

And I think it's the same story in some of the other 'Cinderella' services of the NHS - like mental health provision, geriatrics, community services. Less glamorous than cancer but equally important and potentially equally life-saving.

I once saw a Facebook post with the words 'Thank God for the NHS', to which someone had replied, 'Don't thank God, thank Nye Bevan and the Labour Party.' Personally I'm inclined to thank all of them. 

But more importantly I think we shouldn't just be thankful for the NHS but actively be supporting it as a publicly-funded, publicly-provided service, free for everyone when they need it, and paid for from the taxes of those who can afford it. 

And we should be arguing for a gold service for everyone who uses it, whether they are a cancer patient, an older person with dementia, a young person with addiction and mental health problems or even an overweight middle aged man who has smoked all his life. It's there for all of us, and it's about what we need, not what someone might think we are 'worth'.

*****

Here we go again...

Tomorrow is chemo number two. We spoke to the oncologist today and agreed that I will have drugs numbers 1 and 3 and leave out number 2, which I reacted to last time. I'm feeling relieved about that, a little apprehensive, but otherwise OK.

Based on my experience last time, I'm not likely to feel up to doing another blog for at least a week if not more, so that's it for now.

This blog is dedicated to everyone waiting in A&E tonight, and the nurses, doctors and support staff who are caring for them.