The NHS Strikes Back

After yesterday's brilliant performance when everything ran like a well-oiled machine the NHS returned to normal today - with a vengeance.

Ann and I arrived on time for my 10:30 appointment but after a few minutes one of the nurses told us that as there were only three doctors running the clinic they were running an hour behind. That turned out to be a rather optimistic estimate as it was noon before I was called in.

The actual consultation with Mr. C took only a few minutes. He was very happy with the way the wound was healing and although he said they had found some traces of cancer outside the bladder in the other tissues they had removed there was no need to panic.

It was agreed that CT scans should be coordinated between urology and lung departments and that my next urology appointment would be in about six months. In the meantime he wanted to arrange for some kidney function tests which involve a radioactive isotope being injected into me. I think this may be the same test that was carried out before my chemotherapy last year.

Then he said he wanted me to have a blood sample taken. This meant going downstairs and waiting in yet another queue for about half an hour. Why wasn't this done whilst I was sitting around twiddling my thumbs for an hour and a half upstairs? Does the NHS really not give a damn for the patients?

So it was about 1:30 before we got home, hungry and thirsty since we had had nothing to eat or drink since breakfast at about 7:00.