Lying here on the sofa recuperating after minor surgery yesterday. I've had a perforated eardrum for as many years as I can remember, but my hearing has recently take a small (but clinically measureable) turn south. One to one conversations are fine, but I've noticed a bit more of a struggle in crowded environments - especially isolating the urbane and witty conversations of my friends and family against background chatter. So, I find sometimes that I just give up and let the conversation happen around me: which is OK in a pub or restaurant.
But not really in a classroom when I'm a teacher.
So I approached my GP, got referred to an ENT consultant and was offered/advised to undergo a myringoplasty - a "closure of the pars tensa of the tympanic membrane" (thanks Wikipedia). I had a failed attempt at this very procedure when I was 22 and in 1985 the whole event took a calendar week in Glasgow's Gartnavel General Hospital.
Now, in 2017, admission to discharge was precisely 7 hours and 30 minutes in the New Victoria Hospital. The day went like this:
8:00am : Having arrived early and sitting in the waiting room among approximately 40 other day surgery patients, a team of nurses appeared right on-time and called patient names to go to their respective wards.
8:20am : Discussion with consultant anaesthetist. Risks clearly explained. Fantastic people skills - put me totally at ease.
8:30am : Discussion with surgeon. Reiterates procedure. Answers stupid patient-questions. Again, excellent people skills.
8:40am : Most importantly, in the absence of any mobile data network, ward-nurse issues patient-wifi password. Wifi is reliable. Doesn't drop out once.
8:50am : Advised I am second in the queue for theatre. Probably in just over an hour.
10:00am (I checked) : Invited to proceed to theatre. General anaesthetic administered.
12:00pm (I didn't check) : Return to ward and doze for a couple of hours.
2:20pm : Offered sandwiches, biscuits and proper in-a-mug tea.
3:30pm : Discharged, with prescription painkillers.
This is where I start to compare and contrast a modern NHS hospital with a similar private hospital (of which I've had experience twice in the past five years). While not quite "chalk and cheese", the NHS experience was noticeably better. Beautiful modern building, bright, spotless, clean, efficient compared with a well-known Glasgow private hospital which - while ostensibly clean - was dark, dog-eared and claustrophobic.
Staff, everyone from reception-guy at the main entrance through clerical staff, nurses and consultants were brilliant. Enthusiastic, engaged, keen to help. But more importantly they were as keen to help every patient there - from the well-off to the less well-off. I'm relatively financially comfortable, but it's reassuring to know that if I wasn't, I'd still get the same awesome care.
My assigned nurse - keen to chat as most nurses are - was interested in my story about previously "going private". I had a poor experience, with my surgeon going away climbing for the weekend and being incommunicado at the precise moment my surgical stitches failed. Presenting at the hospital, I was met with an unwillingness to deal with the problem. It felt like nobody wanted to "mow the lawn" of a colleague.
I haven't had private healthcare for a couple of years now, and yesterday re-affirmed my view that it's a big fat waste of money. I was treated in a wonderful, modern, well-equipped facility by wonderful staff. I was operated on swiftly and effectively; fed and watered well and discharged with prescription medication. I have 24-hour telephone support in the event of any post-operative problems. For my American friends and family : I was presented with no bill.
The nurse in question - almost apologetically - offered the opinion that "I think we're as good as private".
I offered mine - "I disagree. You are miles better".
No comments:
Post a Comment