Yes, I can categorically confirm that top notch healthcare still exists and my goodness does it make a difference.
Here’s the real news…
Superheroes exist!
I’ve talked a few times recently about the negative experiences I’ve had with healthcare and trying to root out some help with my pain. Although it’s been a long journey that so far hasn’t concluded, I wanted to talk about a positive experience I had that was overwhelmingly helpful in a very short time.
First, the negative backstory (apologies)…
Accessing and engaging with healthcare has been getting harder and harder, with many people who need help actively avoiding it because they know how long and hard they’ll have to struggle to be allowed access to it. I know it’s true, because it’s what I do, and I wrote a post about it recently.
But there are genuine reasons why healthcare is becoming so difficult to run and work in, so (to be clear) I am NOT slating NHS or other healthcare workers at all. These are people who have dedicated their lives to helping strangers. I’d struggle to think of anything more noble.
There are good reasons why nurses seem to smile less and local doctors no longer remember their patients. There are good reasons why paramedics take hours to arrive and dentists pull your face around rather than asking you to move it. There are good reasons why GP receptionists are short and getting through on the phone can take literally hours.
These people are overworked and the system is over stretched. 14.3% of NHS staff were attacked at least once in 2021 [1]. Patient numbers since covid continue to go up, up, up while wages, employee numbers and funding for training goes down, down, down.
The organisation is so desperately in need of help that they are asking staff with no medical training at all to make clinical decisions. That means if I call with pain in the cartilage of my ear, as I did last week, and the non-medically-trained receptionist gets frustrated because she doesn’t understand my description and therefore refuses me help, I end up in tears and still in pain. She may well have felt the same.
No one is winning.
When you call 111, the NHS non-emergency number, and admin staff call you and say “good news, someone clinically trained is about to call you with some help” then no one calls for another 6 hours, you end up frustrated again, because you’ve found yourself stuck in a system that doesn’t work. Too many patients, not enough staff, unrealistic KPIs and a constant backlog that never ever clears.
In this example, my call from a doctor that was supposed to take 2 hours ended up taking 36 hours, by which time I’d given up hope, and they told me I’d have to phone my own GP again the following morning. Calling on Saturday was a total waste of everyone’s time. My GP would reopen in 12 hours and the same angry receptionist would be waiting.
I gave up.
It became clear afterwards that my symptoms, struggling to breathe and coughing until I became so dizzy my eyes went black, was a result of fluid on my lungs caused by Covid-19. I had genuine reasons for calling, but they are so busy it took 2 days for my call to be returned.
That means that, although it’s frustrating for me, I was in a pile of other unwell patients all of whom were growing as vexed as I was and waiting for days.
Imagine being the people managing that workload, and that anger, 24/7. It’s a perfect storm, actually, a perfect shitstorm, and I don’t blame one of them for being pissed off with it.
Problem is, as a patient, if staff are hostile for any reason, it becomes hard to engage for fear of receiving anger when you ask for help and you’re in pain.
Again, I know this is true because it’s how I live. My contact with support workers had become so negative that I passed all aspects of care to my partner, so he makes and takes all my calls and prevents me from regular tears.
But a few weeks ago my symptoms worsened, as we’d feared they would without help, and I collapsed, unresponsive, so my partner called an ambulance.
Now the positive news….
The paramedic who arrived was, without any hesitation, incredible. Years of conversations in the past were understood and calculated by him in minutes, and all whilst helping my daughter to navigate what was happening and not feel afraid. There were wires and beeps all over the place, but with his help she was comfortable, so was my partner and, eventually, me too.
Calling an ambulance has become routine for some people in the community as the care system is unable to manage the workload. Someone who has fallen out of bed would previously have been visited by care staff, now they are stuck on the floor with only 999 left.
My paramedic could be forgiven for being short, irritable or even hurried, but I felt none of those things. Even with a small amount of time available he left me feeling cared for and understood in full, something I haven’t experienced in considerable time.
He left me with a care plan, and options for my ongoing support. He talk to us both about what to do in all eventualities. He expressed concern, but understood my predicament and fear. He didn’t ridicule or judge me, in fact he made my problems feel acceptable and understandable. He realised I couldn’t access help outside of my home, and validated my reasons. He offered a caring smile and helpful support to my partner, as my carer this is probably something he needed, and I imagine that understanding held even more gravitas coming from another man.
I wasn’t fixed. I was still in pain. I wasn’t able to do all the things suggested.
But…
I knew what was happening and why. We knew what to do next and how to do it. We knew what MIGHT happen, and how to react if it did. We felt known, heard and supported. I felt care.
And after he left, for the first time in days…….
I slept.
That statement alone is enormous, because I rarely sleep for more than 2 hours a night. There are lots of reasons, but at that time it was a chest infection, 1/3 of usual lung capacity and fear that, at times, I was struggling to breathe.
He helped me find a way to reduce the fluid, reduce the cough, relieve the pain (morphine, steroids, antibiotics and codiene) and feel calm enough to clock up some zzz’s.
I can’t thank him enough for his time and kindness. I stupidly forgot that most healthcare workers really do care, but as my statistics above show, they are overstretched, underfunded and very stressed.
So don’t give up, don’t let my woeful tales (or any others) completely prevent you from asking for help when you need it. I hope there are many more superstars like my paramedic, and that you find one who helps you too.
The NHS is costly, but we all pay for it, and it’s a service we are all entitled to use. If you need help, for any health-related problem, you shouldn’t hesitate to ask for it.
The picture
Continuing my festive celebrations, this picture is a festive village that I’d love to live in right now. Quiet enough for me to remain unbothered by other humans I fear if I wanted to go outside and feel the crisp, snowy air on my cheeks once again.
There is one home and a school, because that’s all I think we’d need (wishful thinking!) and obviously a christmas tree with colourful lights is at the centre of it all.
I imagine Boxing Day morning with me in my wooly scarf and gloves, watching my daughter on a sled having the time of her life as her bum gets wet from the melting frost and her fingers get numb from the extreme cold.
I wish I could sled with her, but even in my imagination I’m too afraid.
Eating stilton will the limit of my adrenaline seeking this year!
Thanks for reading 💜
Creative Steph 