It’s popular to knock the NHS. Every time you read about it, someone will be moaning about it.
Fair enough.
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In an organisation of that size there are bound to be cockups and there are bound to be prats and there are bound to be mistakes. The system will fail – every system fails.
That said, I’ve taken more out of the NHS in treatment and therapy than I’ve put in in taxes and I’ve never had a problem with it. I was in eye-casualty with my daughter yesterday and once again I had cause to be grateful.
The lady next to me wasn’t so happy, however. My daughter ‘jumped the queue’ and having sat there for two hours this otherwise nice lady lost it. She started to rant. Given that my daughter couldn’t see out of either eye at the time and was in considerable pain I wasn’t in frame of mind to be too tolerant (yes, okay, I know I should be, but I defy anyone anyone to do that when your daughter’s sight is at stake and she’s crying in pain).
Biting my tongue I managed to bring myself to ask, semi-politely, what the issue was that she was waiting for treatment for. Apparently she’d had a bit of an itchy eye for a few days. Given that this was a Saturday and we were in a casualty unit I figured she probably deserved to be sitting their, waiting.
Frankly, if she was still there on Sunday I’d have precious little pity for her.
What is it about some people that makes them so fundamentally un-self-aware that they can’t be bothered to sort out a problem when there are resources available for them by routine use emergency services complain when those services prioritise real emergencies haven’t got a clue why they’re being sidelined.
As my daughter would say, if she hadn’t been in so much pain and fear: “Is it that you’re stupid?”
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