It’s nearly October …September was crazy busy.

I had a call with Consultant Mrs Infections – as ever empathy and thoroughness. Her checks on EPIC stupid software showed that I had apparently ‘cancelled’ an appointment in Mr Dipsticks’ clinic. How we laughed when I explained I could not have done as I did not have an appointment in the first place. Then as if a poltergeist had heard us an appointment pinged up on her screen…apparently I have an appointment in November. As if !

Next up she could read out the MRI report that no one else seems to be able to see. Essentially an MDT needed. As if that will happen. Let’s not get too excited about that.

We talked about the ongoing UTIs—going round in circles really—and didn’t come to any clear conclusion.

Meanwhile jaw stuff is underway. Lots of appointments in Luton for impressions, wafers ( no idea what that is), ice bag machine thing hire…(£140per week), pre op fitness blah blah…very thorough very nice team. Only hassle is getting here. It is not far but M1 and A6 never seem to flow well. At least the car park machine doesn’t work so no one seems to pay up and everyone just drives out through the open barrier.

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Not only did Jan’s funeral take place on Monday, but it was also a remarkable tribute to her life. The turnout was incredible—friends, colleagues and her family of course, came to show their support, and it meant the world.

Miniature ducks placed in each pew sparked the first smiles. Then came the anecdotes—shared during the service and later over tea at the hotel—that would’ve had Jan laughing out loud. She was proudly ‘Bedford trained’—a nod to the Bedford Physical Training College, founded in 1903 under the Department of Health and now part of the University of Bedfordshire. In her role as President of the alumni, Jan had transformed the community.

One committee member remarked that I was doing well, considering I’m not ‘Bedford trained’. I will take that as a compliment. I think.

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The remembering of stories of Jugs, and FOFO, and Tit Hall dinners. At one Formal, she pointed out that my dress was not only inside out but back to front. ….and all the challenges she set up…climbing trees in Soviet era hotel gardens, making Gill turn anatomy posters upside down here in Luton…I have just checked – Gill’s is still upside down…and so is mine!

As this blog is really about NHS-land I can also report that at the funeral tea I was approached by one of Jan’s colleagues requesting my help and advice on the care at Luton and Dunstable hospital …I could not really think of an answer and merely mumbled empathy and proffered sausage rolls!

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Next up, the brilliant Glenys who basically ran our school from the headteacher’s office popped over. Her husband is now in a care home—lovely man, just like her. She mentioned a carers group for relatives—called something like Tibbles or Titters (honestly, it could’ve been either)—and asked if I’d come to speak to the group about continence care.

I said yes, of course, and offered to bring the local reps too. They know their stuff far better than I do. I told her that this time last year, Mum and Dad needed a whole range of continence products in their care home. The supplies from MK ICB were rationed and nowhere near enough, so we had to buy everything privately. Which we did. And we learned a lot.

The ICB denies rationing, naturally. But the local MPs aren’t buying it—they’ve teamed up and are firing off letters to Ministers. It’s a mess. Value-based procurement? Doesn’t seem to have made it past reception.

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Jan would have enjoyed the fact that her funeral ended up in continence care advice!