Friday 23 July 2010

Typical NHS

Tuesday 13th July 2010

On Thursday morning I’d received an appointment in the post from the hospital for my MRI scan. It was 13th July at 5.45pm. Given that the usual waiting time for MRI scans is eight weeks I was well impressed….

As the appointment time was 5.45pm, there was a possibility that John might be able to finish work slightly earlier than normal, which would save him having to take a half day.

Later that morning I received a telephone call from the MRI department.

“We’ve got a slight problem”, said the woman, “we’ve just noticed on your records that you are due to have some x-rays taken on your back after you’ve had your scan. The x-ray department closes at 5pm. After that it’s emergency on-call cover only. Do you think you would be able to get here for 3.45pm”.
“I’m not sure”, I replied, “I’ll need to speak to my husband as he’ll now have to arrange a half day off work, instead of finishing early”.

I thought it was too good to be true !!!!

Having contacted John who said he was happy to take the half day, I rang them back and said the new time would be fine.

That afternoon (Tuesday) after John had dropped me off at the hospital (not a car park space to be had for love nor money !!!) I wheeled myself to the x-ray department.

Rather than handing over my appointment letter (which would only confuse things…), I explained about the change of appointment time because they close at 5pm..
“I wish !!”, said the receptionist, “we’re open 24 hours”.
After typing on her computer the receptionist looked at the waiting area, “I’ll send you for the scan first”, she said, “as there’s quite a few people waiting for x-rays”.

About five minutes after I’d arrived at the deserted MRI scan waiting area, a radiographer came out and asked if I could complete the necessary form (did I have any metal objects in me etc). Having replied no to the verbal questions (did I have a bra on; anything metal in my pockets; was I wearing any jewellery or a watch; did my jeans have any metal studs in) my bag was put into a locker and I was given the metal locker key (!!!) .

Another radiographer then arrived with a hospital wheelchair. No metal (or should that be no NHS metal….) was allowed in the scanning room so I had to swap chairs.
“I’ll lock your chair in the changing room”, she said, “just in case someone makes off with it”. Charming !!!!!!

I’d had three MRI scans before so knew what to expect. Their music choice on the headphones was ok, but the volume could have done with being turned up as the scanner was very noisy.

Fifteen minutes later and it was all done. One of the radiographers helped me off the scanner and I’m glad he did, as lying flat on my back, with my knees bent did nothing for my back pain !!!!

I wheeled myself back to x-ray, which by this time had emptied, and waited to be called.
“Marie Harper”, shouted the radiographer.
Having caught her eye, she then pushed me down to the next waiting room.
“We called you twenty minutes ago”, she snapped.
“I was told to report for my MRI scanner first”, I protested.
“It doesn’t matter”, she huffed.

She pushed me down the long length of the corridor, passing two x-ray rooms, “we’ve only got one x-ray machine working today”, she said, “the others are all waiting to be repaired….”.

About five minutes later another radiographer came into the waiting area.
“Mrs Harper”, she asked.
“Yes”.
“What’re doing down here”, she snapped, “you’re meant to be at the waiting room”.
“I was told to come here by the radiographer”, I replied.
She pushed me up to the waiting area where the two x-ray rooms were supposed to have been out of action.
“I’ll be back in a mo”, she said, “as I need to get you to sign the consent form”.
“Mrs Harper. What are you doing up here”, snapped the first radiographer, “you’re supposed to be down at the bottom end”.
“I was told by another radiographer that I was meant to be here”.
She wasn’t amused so grabbed a hold of Wizzie’s handles, ready to push me down to the bottom waiting room.
“Where do you doing”, asked the second radiographer to the first one, “she’s mine”.
“No she’s not. I’ve got her paperwork”, replied number two, shaking the form.
“What does this look like”, said number one, shaking her form.
“Ladies please”, I intervened, “you don’t have to fight over me”.
“Is she next on your list to do”, asked number one.
“No”, replied number two.
“She is on mine, is I’m having her”.
Number one left in a bit of a huff….

Number two radiographer sat down next to me and asked me to complete the consent form.
“I noticed on your form you were meant to have your MRI scan at quarter to six, then x-rays after that. Why are you here early”, she asked.
I explained about the telephone call I had received from the MRI department.
“X-ray is open 24 hours a day, three hundred and sixty five days of the year”, she replied, “so you could have come at your correct time”.
I was not amused that John had wasted a half day for nothing.

While I was waiting for John to pick me up, a male A&E nurse walked past me, went to his car and remove something from the boot. I gave him a real hard stare when he walked passed me. He was parked in a disabled car park space (and no he didn’t have a blue badge).

No wonder we can’t get parked !!!

Monday 19 July 2010

Worse than useless

Friday 9th July 2010

I get my repeat prescriptions collected and delivered by my local chemist (it’s not HSBC, TSB, Natwest, Barclays….). However they’re not very good.

As there were a couple of items which would last me for the following month, I rang the chemist and asked if they could be missed off just for that month. I was told that would be arranged, however a week later when I took delivery of my prescription all the items were there.

When my next prescription was due, I rang them and asked if they could leave off the two items, as I had more than enough of them. I dealt with the same person as before, to which he replied there wouldn’t be a problem this time. When my package arrived, sure enough, the two items were missing. So too though were oxynorm and oxycontin, my strong painkillers. Another phone call to them, and having got the same person as before, he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

The following month when my prescription arrived I had to ring the chemist again and got the usual person on the other end.
“I’m afraid I’ve been given codeine painkillers instead of my oxynorm”, I said.
“That’s correct Madam”, he replied.
“No”, I said, “you’ll find my prescription is for oxynorm”.
He tapped away on the computer, “yes”, he said, “oxynorm is what we have you down for”.
“So why then”, I enquired, “have I been given codeine”.
“They’re the same painkillers”, he answered.
“I think you’ll find they’re not”, I said, “oxynorm is a controlled drug, codeine isn’t’”.
“Yes, Madam, that is correct”, he replied.
“So how come I’ve been give codeine”.
“Because they’re the same drug”, he replied.
I was starting to get a annoyed, “they’re completely different. Oxynorm is much stronger than codeine, which is why it’s a CD”.
“Yes Madam, that’s correct”, he answered, “oxynorm is a controlled drug”.
“So why then, have I been given codeine”, I stressed.
“Because they are the same…”.

After 10 minutes of being told they were the same drug, I politely told him to forget it, then rang my GP’s surgery and ordered some oxynorm. Thank goodness I had a pre-payment prescription certificated !!!

The next month I rang the chemist and asked if they could make sure that I would be given the correct painkillers. I was assured this would happen. When I took delivery of them, guess what was missing, my oxynorm !!!!

Because oxynorm was a controlled drug, my GP was reluctant to give me more than one box at any one time. The box only held 56 tablets, and I could take eight or more a day, they didn’t last me very long. Consequently I had to keep re-ordering them every week. I rang the chemist (silly me !!!) and asked if they would be able to submit the repeat weekly prescription for oxynorm, as well as my monthly big batch of items. I was told that wouldn’t be a problem.
Two weeks later and not only had I not received my monthly items, but I hadn’t received any oxynorm. Yet another phone call to the chemist. The assistant said she would have to look into this so would call me back.
Half an hour later she rang back.
“I’m afraid our computer system doesn’t have the facility to allow a customer more than one prescription order, so you’ll have to choose which one you want us to see to”.

Even though they couldn’t get my monthly package right, I decided to leave things as they were. I did, however make them aware that I wasn’t happy that no one bothered to inform me that it couldn’t be done.

She then said their usual delivery driver was on holiday, and as no one in the chemist was insured to carry controlled drugs in their vehicle for health and safety reasons (!!!), I would have to wait until the driver came back to work for them to be delivered.
I asked what were their opening hours, then said John would call in for them either that night or the following morning.
John called in that night and asked the assistant for my prescription.
“I’m sorry but we’ve got nothing for that name here”, she replied.
“You must have”, he said, “my wife rang up this morning and was told her prescription was ready”.
The woman shook her head, checking again.
The pharmacist-cum-manager who was at the back of the chemist quickly stopped what she was doing and rushed toward the counter,
“Mr Harper”, she smiled.
“I’ll deal with this”, she said to the assistant.
“If you could give me one moment, I’ll get your wife’s prescription…”.

I was running low on my oxynorm so rang my GP surgery for a repeat prescription. I was told it would be ready for the chemist to collect it on Tuesday.

By Friday nothing had arrived so I rang the chemist that morning. The assistant tapped away on the computer.
“Yes we do have them”, she said, “however as they are a controlled drug, we were waiting for you to come and sign for them”.
“I get them delivered !!!!”, I snapped.
She tapped away on her computer again, “Oh yes”, she said, sheepishly, “they’re already on the van so you’ll get them this afternoon”.

I give up…..

Tuesday 13 July 2010

The Back Man

Thursday 1st July 2010

I had an appointment to see a consultant about my back that morning. As the appointment time was 8.30am we thought we stood a chance of getting parked at the hospital.

Not a chance !!!!! As usual building work was taking place so they had blocked off at least a third of the car park. Sunderland hospital has got to be one of the worst for being ‘anti-car’.

Years ago parking wasn’t a problem. However with the Trust closing smaller hospitals in the area to make every thing under one roof, something had to be sacrificed for the building work and that was the car parks.

Having said that, the staff were to blame too. In the late 80’s the Trust built the staff a huge free multi-story car park. The old car parks would then be used just for patients and visitors.

Why, no one knows, but the staff refused to use their new car park and continued using the old ones. With a building not being used, the Trust eventually converted it into wards.

The Back Man was running a little late, not as much as Kermit normally is though, so got into see him at 8.50am.
After introducing himself and the student who was shadowing him that day, he flicked through my notes, “You’re one complicated lady”, he smiled.
“Don’t I know it…”, I replied.
“I’ve had a long chat with Mr Green so he’s filled me in on what happened last year. Because of all the work that’s gone on, finding a cure isn’t going to be easy. Surgery will have to be the last resort as there are a lot of risks involved, one of which is paralysis”.
Mmmm, I thought. Knowing my luck…..

“I see from your records you had a MRI scan in September. I’d like you to have an up-to-date one done and also some x-rays on your back. I’ll see you again once they’ve been done”.

To be honest the appointment was a bit of a waste of time. Why couldn’t the Back Man have asked for the scan and x-rays to be taken before I saw him. He would have known all along that they would have been necessary.

Now for the long wait for the MRI scan…..

Friday 9 July 2010

The tooth, the whole tooth and nothing but the tooth

Monday 28th June 2010

Thursday morning whilst I was having some muesli for breakfast I bit on something hard. That doesn’t seem like a nut, I thought.

It wasn’t, it was a big bit from one of my fillings. I’d lost fillings before and they weren’t funny. Drinking anything remotely hot or cold caused immense pain so I bucked up courage to take a tiny sip of tea.

I scrunched my face in anticipation of the forthcoming pain. Nothing. I tried again. Still nothing. I took a bigger sip of tea. Again nothing.

Later, having poked around with my tongue, I found where the filling had come from and took a look at it in the mirror. It looked like only part of the filling had come away, which was probably why I hadn’t been experiencing any pain.

Nevertheless I knew it needed to be looked at so rang my dentist. I had made my dentist aware of my mobility problem back in November and they were happy for me to remain on their books (anyone not visiting the surgery for 18 months is automatically removed) and if I had any problems, they would arrange a home visit.

“I’d need to speak to your dentist about this”, said the receptionist, “however she’s not in today but will be tomorrow, so I’ll ring you then”.

True to her word she did.
“I’ve spoken to your dentist”, she said, “and I’m afraid there is nothing we can do”.
“I was told you could arrange a home visit”, I replied, reminding her of what had been agreed in November.
“I’m sorry, but she is not prepared to do anything. All we can do is recommend that you find another dentist”.

Having been at that practice for over 16 years I was not a happy bunny !!!

Whilst my tooth wasn’t causing me any problems I knew it would sooner or later (4pm on Christmas eve was John’s prediction…) so had to find another dentist.

That morning I rang the local dentist advisory service and explained what had happened. They gave me details of two dentists in the local area who, not only had good disabled access and late opening hours (so John could take me after he finished work), but would be able to take me on as a new NHS patient. They also weren’t overly pleased with my dentist and said they take the matter further if I wished.

I said yes. I knew the outcome would be still the same, however I wanted them to know that I wasn’t happy with the way I had been treated.

The advisory service rang back later that afternoon.
“I’ve just spoken to them”, she said, “and explained that you weren’t very happy. They claim they contacted all the dentists in the Sunderland area to see if they would take you on as a patient, however all of them weren’t taking on new NHS patients”.
“Somehow I doubt that”, I replied, “especially since you gave me two who were”.
“I also asked them why you were told they could arrange a home visit”, she said, “they said you were given the wrong information and don’t know who could have told you this”.
“It was my dentist who told me…”, I answered.
“They have offered to speak to you further about this”, she added.
“No thanks”, I said, “it’s not worth it. I’ll just get more lies and excuses”.

Having had a good relationship with my dentist (I was one of her very first patients in when she opened her practice; as a wedding present she gave me a free clean and polish a couple of days before the big day; if I needed to see her in an emergency, she always fitted me in, no matter how full her appointments were), I was genuinely upset with the way I had been treated.

I hope my new dentist, who ever he/she may be, will be a little more courteous.

Tuesday 6 July 2010

Maiden voyage

Saturday 26th June 2010

That night was the maiden voyage for the new bath lift.

It was a little strange being slowly lowered into the water. I felt a bit like a submarine….

As I was given the ‘deluxe’ model because of the problems with my back, the back rest reclined automatically. Had I liked to read in the bath, it would be perfect.

The only slight niggle I had with it was I wasn’t fully submerged. My idea of a bath is being completely covered with water, with only my head popping out.

However it’s a lot easier to get in and out of the bath than before, so I’m willing to put up with it.