[jambutty]

Hospitals may supply a salt and pepper sachet now lettie but four years ago they didn’t. I had to get my son to bring me my salt seller from home and ketchup and they got passed around the ward at meal times much to the chagrin of the sister in charge. Between us we supplied our own condiments.

Don’t talk to me about the state of the humble cup of tea that they served out. Some clown would leave the tea bags in the kettle and by the time that the nurse got half way round the ward it was like treacle. No one seemed to have the gumption to brew the tea to a nice strength and remove the tea bags. But I’ll tell you what if you happened to be passing the ward kitchen whilst the tea was being brewed the chatter was invariably about some TV programme that the pair had seen or intended to watch.

You can add as much salt as you like onto cooked food but it will not taste the same as when it has been cooked with a sprinkling of salt. In fact if the right amount of salt is used during cooking the finished meal does not need any more.

You are just making excuses for what is happening lettie. Why can’t someone stand up and instead of saying it can’t be done because ….. for once just say “let us see how we can improve things.”

Oh! I get it. Ward routines are more important than a decent meal so patients have to put up with mashed potatoes with a hard crust of dried mash on the outside to mention just one aspect of meals being kept ‘hot’ until eaten. Sorry but that doesn’t wash with me. If one of the many managers pulled their finger out and started to do some real work for a change instead of wandering round with handful of documents in their hand looking important they could organise things so that the patient gets to eat a meal less than 15 minutes after it has been prepared. Let’s face it if it wasn’t for the patients there would be no need for multiple layers of self important managers. Hospitals are split up into wings or floors so what would be so difficult about arranging that floor “A” gets their meals at certain times and floor “B” at different times etc. Oh! I forgot, that level of organisation would impinge on the many regular natters about last night’s Corrie or East Enders or whatever and that would never do.

If a patient requires small but frequent meals or snacks like you then s/he should be provided with them.

But it isn’t only managers who spend more time talking about the job than doing it. Many nurses do exactly the same.

The last time that I was in with a severe kidney infection I was prescribed some powerful antibiotics and they did the trick OK. But they also killed off all the good bacteria in my gut and that left thrush to run riot. It took me three days of mentioning to the ward staff sister or whatever it is that they call them that I had developed a case of severe thrush before she actually did anything about it. I guess it must have been the badly swollen neck and face that finally caught her eye.

Then a couple of days later and old fellow in a bed across from me called George wanted a bottle. He rang and rang and rang and then I rang and eventually a nurse of some sort rushed into the ward to see who was ringing. George, poor soul, was over 80 and there were times when he wasn’t quite with us and at other times he was as lucid as you or me. I explained to the nurse that George wanted a bottle. To my amazement she replied, “He’ll have to wait we are in the middle of a meeting” and rushed out leaving George with no option but to wet the bed. To add insult to injury when the ‘meeting’ was finally over some half an hour later he was scolded for wetting the bed and he ended up with having a catherta inserted. Not very pleasant although you do get used to after a day or two. I’ve been passed the office on many an occasion and the discussions wasn’t about patient care but chit chat. Most times it was more like a hen party than a patient care meeting.

On a previous occasion when clotty blood worked its way to my lungs an old fellow of about 75 was brought in from an old folks home having suddenly lost the power of speech. The way that all the nurses spoke to him was astounding. He was treated like an imbecile rather than an old guy who suddenly couldn’t talk. I could hardly believe my eyes or ears.

After that degrading episode the guy was almost in tears.

I asked him, “Can you understand what I am saying?” He nodded yes.

“You just can’t speak?” He nodded again and tears streamed down his face because someone wasn’t treating him like an old fool.

Some of the other guys on the ward came over and joined in to try and make the guy as welcome as you can do in a hospital and you could see from his face that all someone had to do was to ask the right questions.

We put this forward to the ward staff sister and got back a very frosty, “you should leave the nursing to the nurses.”

Many of the nurses or sisters as they are known now were indeed angels of mercy but far too many just couldn’t care less and couldn’t wait for going home time. That has been my experience of hospitals and the next time that I am forced into hospital I hope that I am unconscious and at death’s door.