I'd say bravo, NHS - if I was allowed to talk!
Maurice O'Brien • Published 26 Aug 2011 09:30
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IT'S BEST not to argue when your boss warns that unless you make an appointment to see a doctor she'll make it for you.
That explains why six days later I found myself describing to my GP how I'd had this annoyingly croaky throat for about a year, and he was looking concerned and telling me about the Royal Berkshire Hospital's 'urgent two week wait referral system'.
Nothing to worry about, everyone kept assuring me; except, I was thinking, for thought provoking lines on the information sheet like, "being referred to a specialist does not necessarily mean you have cancer".
Nine days after that I reacquainted myself with the chicken-run which houses ENT outpatients in the wastelands of NHS clinical care at the RBH.
I've a season ticket for the E bit of ENT but it's great to find everyone involved with the T is equally brilliant.
Consultant Mr Flannery tells it like it is. Clear, concise and gently matter of fact, he showed me the picture of the iffy white lump on my left vocal cord and explained the worse, and best, scenarios.
These guys are supposed to be grumpy and obtuse. Wrong again.
There and then the pre-op was booked for the next afternoon, with surgery in a week's time, on Dorrell ward, which is light, airy and sparkling clean, even at 7.30 in the morning. Amna, 'my nurse', was kind, gentle and understanding, the anaesthetist's young sidekick has an infectious grin, deeming each of my responses "cool", the single-sex bay is tension-free, and surgeon Mr Mansell popped in for a pre-op chat so relaxed that he might have been inviting me for a lunchtime beer.
He was still cheerful when he dropped by afterwards to order a 48-hour vow of silence, and when Amna served lunch - cream of asparagus soup, macaroni cheese (albeit the accompanying diced carrots and potato croquettes were a tad incongruous) with vanilla ice cream - it went down a treat.
No hackneyed NHS put-downs from me. Just 16 days from start to finish, and deluxe, first class care all the way. Now if I can just avoid rock festival traffic gridlock when I return for the biopsy results!
LAUGHTER, so they say, is the best medicine. Item 14 of the Royal Berkshire Hospital guide for post-surgery patients reads: "There is no set time when it is safe to resume sexual activity. A general guide is when you feel well enough to return to work." Blimey, that must be some job.
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Tom_Ainsworth
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Aug 30, 10:45
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