The NHS & Me
I imagine if you took all the ink used to type NHS over the last year, you could fill a big portion of a loch somewhere. I’m not going to do the research to make this statistic work. But you get the vague impression. And the vague impression is all we need to get. The vague impression is that the NHS rallied during the first peak and worked through it all, with or without PPE. They pulled together for some herculean effort and then in the winter they did battle again. But now as those blue envelopes hit door matts the world will return to normal. And the NHS will quietly resume a service that has the vague impression of working.
But these vague impressions are smudged and smeared and distort the true reality of what is going on. Now, I have to admit I write this only from my viewpoint and as a user rather than worker in the NHS. My own view may be tainted and smudged too. But this is how I see it.
My case is complex. I have psychiatry, psychology, neurology and my local GP all treating and caring for me. And all of them are under strain.
It has taken over a year of referrals (despite numerous episodes in which I endangered my life) to see psychology. After one triage appointment I have been assigned a webinar which I must watch once a week with no option for feedback or questions. The webinars are filled with patients, I missed a session due to a medical emergency. Which contravenes the contract they made me sign. I tried to get in touch to explain. No department could put me through to the right person. I was left with the final sign off “Just attend the next one. They won’t have noticed.”
But I want to be noticed. In psychology more than anywhere I need to be seen and heard. And how vital are these webinars if it doesn’t matter that I messed one. No option to see it again or to catch up.
And all of this was happening as my medical needs changed dramatically. For those of you who knew me in my 20’s you will know I suffered from attacks that look a lot like epileptic seizures but I’m conscious and it is really just spasmodic movements of my muscles. These have returned. Still the webinars plough on, unaware of my condition – and I feel very unaware of how they can help.
My attacks returned with such vengeance that I am getting multiple a day. The pain is crippling and my muscles constrict and pull with such strength that I contort in total agony. They play havoc with my breathing as I catch breathes between spasms in my neck muscles and afterwards I am so lethargic it feels like a painful effort to feed myself.
I have had five separate occasions when ambulances have been called and I end up in A&E who notice my GP’s urgent referral to neurology and his update to psychology. And since the symptoms have stopped, I am pack up off home.
This is obviously not an ideal treatment plan because A) I have a seven month old baby and my wife is now effectively full time caring for us both, so travelling between hopotial and home involves logistics and calling in extra family support. B) I know A&E isn’t the best place for me. I know paramedics are better served elsewhere but it is the only method of getting the pain relief that eventually brings me out of spasm.
My doctor has been tremendous during all of this. In fact, every facet of the NHS has been ace. Except psychology – because who enjoys been talked down to via a 30 min no question webinar. He has sent in urgent referrals. Chased up my case. Changed my medication plans to try and combat the attacks as best we can.
But today we asked neurology when I would be seen. They received my referral 7 days ago and noted it was marked as urgent and because of that I will be seen in the next TWENTY WEEKS!
My GP doctors and psychiatrists don’t want to change my meds without a neurologist consultation. So here we are.
The NHS is a beautifully vital system which allows complex cases like mine to be treated well with joint up care. And I know there are more urgent cases than mine. I know there are more life threatening cases than mine. I know there will be cases more complicated than mine.
And I know my GP will come up with an interim plan that doesn’t involve me phoning out paramedics, but I know that plan won’t be what he first wanted. Because he first wanted me to see a neurologist before tweaking my meds but that can’t happen for another TWENTY WEEKS.
When we applaud, when we thank our care providers and paint rainbows in windows, remember these are care providers that were already working on the brink. Fund the NHS can’t just be a random slogan we throw up now and again. Fund the NHS means hard decisions. It means putting people working at Trident out of work. It means accepting that an aging population requires new methods of taxation. It means not leaving someone in agony, worried about how best they can be a dad, because waiting lists are months. It means not just giving pay raises to frontline carewrokers. But to systematically recruit, train and develop plans that actively provide care and treatment that is complex. I don’t know how much each paramedic call out would have cost. But we need every branch, root and shoot funded. Not just the ones we see. Please FUND THE NHS. ALL OF IT.