Orthopaedic surgeon took the pin out of my foot today. No anaesthesia just pulled it. Nurse 1 winced. Nurse 2 looked green. Surgeon said to them. J is my favourite patient. She’s always cheerful through hell and back. Bet he says that to everyone!

Foot is now out of plaster. Looks disgusting. 

Physio twice a week in London. Brilliant . The team so nice so kind. They are not impressed about my spinal issues. Not impressed at the festering wound left by Dipstick in April. Under instructions I went straight to AandE. 

This is what happened next. 

Before you read on. I have one question?how come one surgeon and team can be so nice when the very next team I need help from are so horrible. ‘I’ll ring you’ ‘ let me know’ empty promises never fulfilled. Stroppy CNS told me not to email anyone else but her. Told me I’d have a teams call Thursday,ie tomorrow. But when? What time? Am I meant to just sit by my phone all day? Cancel everything? I actually do have work to do. I actually do have duties to attend to. Patients are meant to just wait. All day. Indefinitely. It’s crap.

I stand by my final sentence.

 I need an out from this shambles. Can you tell me how? 

Dear Matt Hancock I do understand you are very busy preparing for the third wave. I bet you don’t realise that your NHS is officially buggered. Whilst the staff are exhausted mentally physically and deserve a break. Cutting a long story short I have arrived at one of your big internationally renowned hospitals. Shining example of our NHS at its worst.
You see I have been told to attend Anand E as a post operative incision seems to be infected. I arrived here an hour ago. The receptionist could hardly break away from chatting to her colleague to clerk me in. She told me to sit and wait. But there being no chairs I sat on a window ledge.
The security guard told me that’s not allowed. Told me to go outside. So here I am. Sitting on the filthy pavement with many others. Some smoking. Some crying. Some just staring into space. Quite a crowd building up. I’ve inched away from the blood patch and a gruesome white dressing thing.
I’ve not been able to speak to the Clinical Nurse Specialist. I did email her but an email bounced back. I forwarded it to the urology team. CNS emailed me saying DO NOT everyone. I am only to email her. Can’t win really can I? Stroppy stress. CNS. She must need a break.
I’ve been here two hours now. I don’t honestly think I can stay here much longer.
I need my pain meds. I need to lie down. I need a loo. I don’t think this is healthy.

Ah a nurse just came outside. He called my name. Told everyone to come inside if they hadn’t been triaged. But, I said to him. We’ve been told to come out. Now more people are,crying. I’m to sit inside. But there are no chairs. I’m sitting back on the window sill. Security can move me if they dare. Ah nurseshave yelled at security now. This is all a bit tense. Another lady is sobbing so loudly security has given her a box of tissues. 
The triage nurse said my ‘lead’  as in ‘lead’ pencil had been removed. Then he corrected himself. Oh he said it’s your tin ‘lead’. 
I just said yes. It was actually my tined leads. But who cares. 
I’ll go home if nothing happens soon. I think I’m safer at home. 

The system suddenly leapt into life. A nice doctor led me into the inner bays of Aand E looking for a cubicle she tried Resus and majors and minors and some horrible looking cubicle guarded by police. I stumbled along behind She was nice. She quickly organised bloods and stuff.

Then some urology doctor turned up. apparently he’d met me before ! Not sure I could recognise him. Anyhow he checked out my back. As in looked at it from afar for 20 seconds. He pronounced it was all do to the ‘dressings’. He also told me not to wear fashionable chinos. Me? fashionable? Chinos? what? Said to wear tracksuits…..what? for ever? Everywhere? He then told me I could go home. I just couldn’t quite get it together to tell him the dressings came off in April. A hot red patch on your spine is obviously normal and 8!weeks after dressings must be dressings. What?. Yes ? No. Bollocks. Ages later, after I asked and asked, A and E , found a discharge letter and off I went home. I’ll never ever go there again. I hope I never ever have anything to do with any of them ever again. I need to work out how to get this SNS sorted out. Somebody else surely knows. Please let me know if you think of someone. London is history.
From Jacq