Christmas? When was that? The days have merged. My mum rang me at 1:00 in the morning last week. Dad really ill. Amazing how you can wake up. Grab coffee and drive through the night at speed. She’d tried to ring 111 but got in a muddle with options on the voice mail. I told her to press her alarm pendant thing. She did. By the time I got there an ambulance was on the way.

Once assessed, Dad was blue lighted to MK Hosp. He was in resus. Mum and I guided to the corridor. I found a chair. Put her in it. I just sat on the floor. Loads of staff passed us. Avoided eye contact. But in the end a paramedic took pity on me and found me a chair.

After we’d seen Dad I sent mum home by taxi. Thrusting a £20 note at the driver I asked him to get her home indoors and safe. I understand he did.

Eventually Dad was admitted to a ward. A and E was absolute carnage. Trolleys lined up. Side by side. Bodies sharing germs. No loo. No drinks. No pillows. No blankets. Its absolute hell.

Eventually he was found a bed. A ward. He got iv antibiotics. Oxygen. Fluids. But he was delirious. We were asked to stay to keep him calm. We took it in turns.

There were no staff around. One poor nurse. Agnes. Was having to do drugs one minute. Try to feed a disabled man the next. Bathing toileting etc was impossible. I took in a clock. A radio. A photo slide show. I got Dad into a shower. Agnes asked me to. He’d emptied bladder and bowel. No one could change him. I did. Despite it all Dad could still giggle. His compliance, polite acceptance of his situation, is him to a tee. Exacerbation of existing personality. Confused and out of it as he was, he still managed to be nice. Kind. Grateful.

By last night he seemed a bit better. The ward sister though , told me he wandered all night. Was a falls risk. My sister and mum were on the ward next afternoon, and staff knew they were there. No one came to discuss discharge plans with them. If they had, we may have been able to have a calmer outcome.

An OT had rung mum that morning. The discussion was about his cognitive decline, falls risk. The suggestion was discharge after review in a few days, ie later this week.

But just as we’d established he was not going home. An ambulance arrived at their house. With Dad. Still in his hospital pyjamas. Dark rainy night and the ambulance crew said they’d had issues all day with discharges. Staff Nurse later told me they’d been told to turn round and take him back. They didn’t know. She told me the ward thought he lived with a daughter. No he does not.

So he’s home. Mum will try her best. We have no care plan. No idea what drugs he needed.  Had had. Nor would need. Discharge letter just says Chest X-ray in 6 weeks. 

There appears

to have been a monumental mistake. It seems the wrong patient was sent home. The

risk of him falling or becoming more ill is high. 

In hospital he had nebulisers

Oxygen and

Iv CoAmox

Of course we have none of that for him.

Since then I have been in touch with the CEO . His apology and investigation will maybe help future discharges. He has instructed the team to re assess Dad. In fact they wanted him back in. My mum refused. But somehow or other I have got his GP involved. Assessment. Home visit . Antibiotics tomorrow. He is not at all well but actually desperate to stay at home.

Meanwhile the Secretary of State for Health. Steve Barclay. Is tweeted visiting UCLH. How wonderful to see a discharge lounge. I have tweeted back:

• What planet are you on? Discharge lounge is not some sort of airport first class luxury. All hospitals undo patients from drips and drains with indecent haste. They get wheeled in their indecent hospital pjs to a holding bay. More like a left luggage cupboard. There we await…

• Therewe await pharmacy. ( hours). Transport ( more hours). More patients arrive every minute. It’s no wonder patients end up as ‘ failed discharge’. They get worse in the discharge lounge cupboard. And I know from bitter experience.
• Imagine if there was even a cup of coffee. Or a sandwich. Or anything really. What a bloody shambles.