The NHS War Zone

Before I begin this post, based upon my opinion, I want to preface it by referring you to a previous post I wrote, back in February 2023, entitled “Life Experience vs The Tabloids: https://amidlifeadventure.org/2023/02/18/opinion-life-experience/

The opinion I am voicing here is based upon fact not on what I have read in the media or listened to on the TV.

I am in my midlife, as is hubby and we have both contributed fully each month, throughout our working lives, to the National Insurance fund with the expectation that should we, at any time, need NHS care it would be provided free, efficiently and effectively. We are both physically fit, eat healthily, don’t drink and have never smoked and until last Friday night had barely ever needed NHS care.
In my case I was given BUPA private health care throughout my thirty year career so I was, it could be argued, contributing throughout that period of time in my history, to an NHS that I didn’t actually need.

Fast forward to 3 am on Friday March 8th and hubby feeling sick, got up and went to the bathroom. We think he got as far as the bathroom doorway before collapsing forwards and face planting the floor, hitting his face on the bath on the way down!
My daughter and I were awoken by the bathroom door ricocheting off the toilet and having found him bleeding, with part of his lower lip hanging off (excuse the graphics) and initially knocked out, we called an ambulance.
The Ambulance Service, in the UK, is funded by the NHS and as funds have become more and more stretched various county ambulance services have been amalgamated together to save on costs. In our area we share our ambulance service with parts of the neighbouring county of Wiltshire.
From the time of our call at 3:07 a.m. to assessment on scene and then transportation to our nearest Accident and Emergency (AnE) Hospital in Gloucester, about thirty minutes drive away, it took about an hour and forty minutes, arriving at 4.45 a.m.
With the ambulance service under more and more pressure this is actually quite an achievement and both female attendees were fantastic.

The AnE was busy and having been booked in, we joined the queue to be seen.
As the night wore on and the sun began to rise we took advantage of the fact that my daughter had accompanied him in the ambulance and I had driven in separately. This had given me an opportunity to pack some water, coffee and tea along with our iPads to keep ourselves occupied.
Others were not so prepared and relied on the ever decreasing vending machine supplies. Once my son was up and about he came to pick his sister up to avoid her waiting with us and taking up more room.
At 9 a.m. ( four hours into our visit) I took myself off to the main hospital and located a coffee shop for more hot drinks and a couple of morning pastries.
By 11 a.m. (six hours in) I dared to actually go and enquire at the nurses’ station how much longer we were going to wait. Luckily my husband’s mouth had stopped bleeding although it was now swelling along with his left eye. I was dutifully told the wait from arrival was 8 hrs!
The waiting room had continued to fill up and patients were now sitting on the floor, leaning against the walls and clogging the corridor from the entrance. Looking around me I just couldn’t believe I was actually sitting in an AnE in the UK.

The staff were doing their utmost best and at no time would I criticise their professionalism, friendliness or aptitude but they were so outnumbered, it was honestly unreal.
The throng of patients waiting ranged from late teenagers to quite elderly folk who had been parked in wheelchairs and just left. No one to look after them, no relatives with them, just left to wait with the rest of us. At least two of these gentlemen were affected by a dementia type illness. One thought he was in a World War II air raid shelter and the other kept telling everyone that his sons had deliberately left him here and how evil they were.
Some people were evidently affected by drugs or alcohol with one young lady constantly being sick into the cardboard bowls provided. Others were suffering from mental illness with one lady arguing with her imaginary friend.
The alarm for the public toilet went off twice during our stay and on neither occasion did anyone come to investigate? The first time I went around to the nurses station and the second time someone else did. This second time the man inside came out and then collapsed on the floor having a heart attack!
It felt like a war zone, like we were all taking refuge within these four walls in the hope of getting some help at some point.

At 12.45 p.m. (eight hours after arrival), my husband, as projected, was seen by an AnE doctor She was concerned about the reason for his collapse more than his wounds and it soon became apparent that he had a heart murmur. Something we had previously never had a clue about.
This meant he wasn’t going to be allowed to leave so she suggested I went home and gathered toiletries and clothes for his imminent stay. In the meantime she would contact the specialist cosmetic consultant needed to stitch up his face.
During this initial eight hour stint in AnE we were offered only one drink. I made sure, therefore, I returned with food and drink reinforcements and grabbed myself a shower and a change of clothes, arriving back at the hospital at 5 p.m. (12 hours since original arrival).
The stitching had been completed but the consultant was concerned about the impact of the fall and requested an X-ray on his face as well as his chest, along with a CT scan of his head.
These were duly completed and then we had to wait for a bed.
At 7 p.m. (14 hours since original arrival) I took another trip to the nurses station and determined that all beds were taken for the night and that we would have to wait in AnE until the morning!
As the night stretched before us and being a Friday night it just got busier and busier so hubby suggested that I go home. I felt incredibly guilty for leaving him alone amongst the chaos.

Saturday morning dawned and on telephoning I found he had been taken out of the main AnE room overnight and placed in an area with half a dozen reclining chairs where he had spent the night fitfully sleeping.
He suggested I didn’t rush back so I returned early afternoon in the hope that he would have some good news.
Armed with more food and drink and a face cloth and soap I headed, with my son, back to the hospital.
Arriving at 2.30 p.m. (31.5 hrs since first drop off) and using the public toilet I washed hubby’s still bloody face and assisted him in changing out of his blood stained clothes into fresh underwear and pyjamas. No progress had been made in finding him a bed and so the AnE room became home again for the afternoon, with the three of us taking it in turns in trying to relieve the boredom and ensuring hubby was fed and watered.
Finally a nurse came across to him and told him to prepare for transfer upstairs to a ward. It took 38 hours for him to finally be placed in a bed connected to a heart monitor!

Having visited him every day since we are no further forward. He has been checked over by three different consultants who have all told him the same “You have a heart murmur and need an echocardiogram, however, there is a queue! If we allow you to return home there is a risk that you could collapse again and the current waiting list for this procedure if completed via outpatients is eight weeks!”

This folks is the state of our current NHS. It’s quite honestly frightening. I want to make it clear that the staff are not to blame. We cannot fault anyone we have met thus far.
The fault, instead, lies with successive Governments who have not budgeted correctly for a free service that continues to evolve, in terms of its capability to cure patients and discover ever more evolutionary operations and procedures. It hasn’t built sufficient hospitals to manage the ever increasing need from an expanding population that lives longer.

Gloucester Royal Hospital, for example, lies within the South West NHS region, is one of the six noted trauma hospitals for this region and is one of the largest trusts within the South West. The county is predominantly rural, with an area of 1,220 sq miles.

The hospital opened in 1912 with 149 beds serving a population of just over 321,000, it now has 683 beds serving 916,000 people. However we have an increase in life expectancy. In 1912 a man was expected to live until 51 years, now this stands at 81 years. Therefore a bigger percentage of the population is utilising the NHS for longer.
Significantly when you look at the historic figures in 2018, 106 years after it had opened the population reached 633,500 nearly double that of 1912 but in the last 5 years it has grown by another 45% and herein lies part of the problem. As a country we are consistently building more and more houses without the supporting infrastructure.

Gloucestershire has a growing population and more people living longer, all drawing on the same NHS resources. The opportunities to expand the hospital are limited.Like other hospitals built in the last century it sits in the middle of a major city where land is now limited.
So where do we go from here?

Having contributed to the NHS via my National Insurance for nearly 40 years I’m angry that in reaching this stage in my life when I’m most likely going to need it’s services I don’t feel it is fit for purpose and probably never will be again.
In my opinion there is no longer a choice for younger people. If you want efficient and effective medical care you are going to have to join BUPA or some other similar scheme and pay monthly for it. My only hope is that in doing so you get the opportunity soon to opt out of that part of your National Insurance that currently goes towards the NHS.