"Some Observations on Wrightington hospital"

MMy admittance time was mid morning and I was there on 'D' Ward. I was shown to a bed I was asked one or two questions and then told I would probably be seen at about 1230. Good! I thought - last time it was nearly 1700, the consultant apparently having been held up at another place. About an hour later, a nice lady asked me to get undressed and put one of those daft gowns on.

A sign caught my eyes; it said something about dignity. I sat in a chair by my bed by the door through which, along with the freezing draught, came four or five men all dressed in black uniforms. I shuddered. I am old enough to remember other men in similar uniforms but, thankfully they turned out to be porters, (although they are probably not called that any more.) They were jovial as, two to a bed, they maneuvered their charges through the swing doors. I shivered. 1230 came and went and at about 1330 I began to fret. I asked if I could go to the cafe for a cup of tea and a bun as I was cold and fed up. No I couldn't, but they did give me a cup of coffee, no bun, but two nice warm blankets.

At the back end of my last injection's efficacy, I had been in considerable pain for some weeks and had looked forward to getting a top up. Sitting still for hours in a cold draught is not conducive to my most cheery self. I began to fret again when - Bingo - a gentleman turned up with a wheelchair and whipped me through the offending doors, via some more, to another place where, a trifle warmer next to a ten watt heater, I sat and waited but not for long. Another nice lady (all the ladies were nice,) told me there had been a set-back, the consultant had been held up on another job in Wigan and no estimate could be offered as to when he would be back. (deja vu.) So we waltzed back to 'D' ward where, after asking again if I could go to the cafe I was given a cheese sandwich. Some time later, thankfully not as late as last time, I was taken back to the other place where the consultant was waiting. He pumped in the welcome balm with gentleness perhaps more suited to a gynecologist then a bone - setter, and, minutes later; I was pain free and fit to turn cartwheels.

When people rubbish the Health Service I always tell them about the decency of the people I have met in it. About the cleanliness compared with the horrors of yester-year. About the super efficiency (which circumstance occasionally upsets,) and that, taken all in all, they make me better. So I hope you will take kindly (and as seriously as you like,) to my remarks above and perhaps, for instance, if am seeing the man at 1600, appoint me a bit closer to that time rather than some six hours earlier. I wouldn't need the cheese sandwich then. Oh! and by the way - any chance of getting BBC radio four on the head set? I can put up with a lot if I've got radio four. Your's truly..