Going with the flow

Today's title is a particularly bad pun I am afraid, but I did not post an entry on Punday, so it had to come eventually.

Since the initial hiccup with the first Specialist Nurse ("62 day target? I believe you, but I will have to look that up"), the second one is worth her weight in gold. The Great Man decided that I needed a "flow test" at our meeting yesterday; this could have been done on the spot if only I had drunk a few pints of water before seeing him. Given that this is the NHS, I felt it wiser to go with an empty bladder for two reasons:

• I was likely to be stuck in a waiting room (albeit with access to what turned out to be the only functioning wc in the vicinity) for half an hour. 40 minutes as it turned out, but I was booked into the last clinic slot so I don't begrudge that one.
• My experience of the lavatorial facilities at the hospital which are not in highly specialist areas indicated that what is left of my health and wellbeing might depend on not needing to use one.

Specialist Nurse said she would be seeing a couple of people this morning, so if I could drop in she would be able to get the flow test and associated ultrasound done. Just ask for her at reception.......

Brilliant! Told one of the 5 (!) nurses hanging around the reception desk why I was there, but did not give my name. She told me who I was! I was not only expected, but she had been asked to look out for me and (get me to) perform the first part: peeing into a sophisticated bucket while a machine in the next room did its bit.

Specialist Nurse appeared a few minutes later, into treatment room, ultrasound done (think the machine probably belongs in a museum........I had forgotten about cathode ray tube screens), and out for a friendly chat within 5 minutes. Let's hope that cloning technology moves on quickly enough to produce exact copies of her.

Went home and was part way through writing an email to the oncologist to save a lot of unnecessary time when we get to meet, when the 'phone rang................

At the moment, there are only three realistic possibilities if the 'phone rings during the day: the Hospital with an appointment time (good practice), my friend and work colleague, or telesales. No, there was a fourth that I had never even considered: it was the CQC!!!!! Not just the CQC, but the Local Inspector who is monitoring Medway Maritime Hospital. She said she might take a look at the blog; if so, you may wish to look away now.........

Still here? Very brave! Last chance.............

For those not familiar with the CQC (explanation of what they do is in a previous post....pay attention!), the Local Inspectors have one of the worst jobs in the country which is guaranteed to ensure that their blood pressure is off the scale for most of the day.

What a fantastic woman. In the midst of overseeing performance figures, juggling difficult meetings with (doubtless) difficult people and generally carrying the can for a hospital in "Special Measures", she had picked up my comment and decided that calling me was a priority. Won't go into details, but we had a really great discussion and I promised to send her a concise summary of the Good Bits and Not So Good Bits once all this is over (perhaps a couple of new acronyms for the CQC to pass to the NHS, NHSIA, PHE, etc.: the GB and NSGB scores for hospitals?). Another candidate for cloning.

Now, dear reader, the reward for all your hard work getting this far. If you listen carefully, you may hear the instrument listed as "Asses Jawbone":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1mCYgjhnGg