Fresh from watching politicians from the leading parties, and a couple of the fringe versions, debating about the NHS (Norman Lamb won hands down, Andy Burnham lost spectacularly), I could not resist providing a quick update on my trip to the Mid Kent Oncology Centre this morning.
I was assured by Well Modulated Sarah during our conversation yesterday that I could just pop into the reception area for radiology and collect the necessary antibiotics to take in advance of next Thursday's appointment. Either she had a bit of a brainstorm (the charitable interpretation) or she lied (the less charitable view). That is certainly not what happened.
What follows is a bit detailed because it is fresh in my mind; you might want to skip to the punchline a few paragraphs down.
Did some shopping and ended up a few miles from the MKOC, so thought I would "pop in" to pick up the pills. Found the place and, miraculously for the NHS, parking was free for half an hour. Nice modern building, but no wayfinding so asked my way to the radiology reception, So far, so good........
Found a receptionist, told her that WMS said she would leave some drugs for me and gave my name. "I will call her" was the response, "we are not allowed to keep any drugs at reception, please take a seat". I took a seat expecting WMS to come whiffling around the corner any minute.
15 minutes later, a man called my name, introduced himself (I forget his name) and invited me to accompany him. Apparently he did not have the drugs either.........
Like a good "patient", I followed and was invited to sit in a consulting room where I was told that he needed to take swabs in case I had MRSA. OK, fair enough.
I was then subjected to the usual NHS explanation which, thankfully, I managed to cut short as I had no need of further explanations and just needed the antibiotics plus the instruction leaflet. By now I should have expected what came next. He brandished another NHS form and told me that I had to have a blood test; this resulted in a fairly sharp exchange:
Me: "what for"
Him: " PSA level, we do not have anything recorded in your notes"
Me: "waste of time, I already know I have prostate cancer and thought that they did too given that all this was leading up to radiotherapy. The answer will be about 13.9. Do you not have access to the notes from Medway Hospital?"
Him: " " mouth flapping in the breeze
Me: "just give me the antibiotics and leaflets and I will be on my way"
At this point he gave me two leaflets and a prescription with the instruction to take the prescription to the pharmacy to get the antibiotics. Now call me what you like, but "I will leave the tablets at reception" and what actually happened are a world apart. Someone was not telling the truth and I was pretty sure it was neither me nor the hapless chap sitting in front of me.
None of the above would really have merited a blog post, but what happened next just blew my mind...................
Less than 10 minutes to go before the free parking was due to run out, I arrived at the pharmacy, slapped the prescription on the counter and waited. "Sorry, we cannot dispense any drugs" was the instant response "our system is down".Without their computerised system, it would appear that no-one in the pharmacy department was able to take any drugs off the shelf and give them to the customers. Presumably pharmacists no longer have the use of either hands or brains.
Gave up.
I might have another go tomorrow, or might just forget the whole prophylactic antibiotic bit and take my chances next week. At least I made it back to the car with 3 minutes to spare!
For serious students of the absurd, here's a song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3aZ-Y5YvkxY
Wednesday, 29 April 2015
Tuesday, 28 April 2015
Welcome to the Kent Oncology Centre
If you read yesterday's post, you might be expecting to read my musings on what the last 9 months have cost. As ever in the weird world of the NHS, it delivered another surprise today which has taken over today's entry I am afraid.
Virtually as soon as I got home from a meeting this afternoon, the 'phone rang. This is not unusual during the day and is usually a business colleague, someone trying to sell something, the garage to advise that the car is ready..........I am sure that you know the sort of thing. Not today though. Today, it was a Radiographer from the Kent Oncology Centre.
Given the glacial pace that the NHS usually works at, it was something of a shock to hear the well modulated Queen's English of a British Standard Radiographer. If you have ever had dealings with Radiographers, you will probably also have noticed that most of them seem to be frightfully well spoken and female. Quite a few of them also seem to be married to or living with doctors. One of life's little mysteries.
There are three possibilities that spring to mind that might have resulted in a call the day after I had seen the consultant:
Well modulated Sarah (WMS) introduced herself as the radiographer who would be co-ordinating my radiotherapy and would be "with me all the way through it". A curious expression, but I suppose it is meant to seem reassuring.
She went on to outline the process from here on in: I would need to visit the Centre 3 times before the radiotherapy could start. The first was to pick up some antibiotics and talk with her face to face, the second to have 3 gold implants and the third to have (another) CT scan. At some point I would also be contacted by a "scheduler" who would arrange the actual radiotherapy times.
After a fairly short conversation, we managed to get 3 down to 2. I could see to real merit in an initial "chat", so asked her to leave the antibiotics at reception and I would collect them next time I go to buy some dog food (the country store is not far from Maidstone Hospital where the Centre is based). The discussion about the date for the implants was the bit that made me wonder about 2 being a real possibility; I was basically invited to nominate a date and time! Having consulted my diary, we settled on next Thursday. As for the CT scan, I will be sent an appointment which I can then re-negotiate if necessary.
WMS told me that the consultant had probably given me an armful of leaflets explaining what would be going on. I explained that I am not a leaflet sort of person and that I think he probably picked up on that in a consultation that even he admitted he would not forget. She was amused by that one and did venture that his referral to her had mentioned that the radiotherapy should take place at an agreed fixed time every day for the 7.5 weeks. Being assertive / difficult / bloody minded can have its benefits..............
On the technical side, we did have a quick chat about the "blunt instrument" nature of NHS radiotherapy in which I expressed my usual incredulity that it is apparently impossible to focus a beam of x-rays (which is all it is) on anything less than a 4cm diameter. I got the usual NHS response which was, effectively, "that's just the way it is. If you think that I am being picky, take a small torch (flashlight for my USA reader(s)) and mark a 4cm line on a piece of paper. Now move the torch until the beam touches both ends of the mark. Seriously, is that the very best that NHS kit can do?
Watch this space to see how the Kent Oncology Centre compares with Medway Hospital and UCLH.
Tonight's song: I am afraid that this is another '70s throwback for no other reason than I enjoyed their gig in about '75
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItZqTueAaqU
Virtually as soon as I got home from a meeting this afternoon, the 'phone rang. This is not unusual during the day and is usually a business colleague, someone trying to sell something, the garage to advise that the car is ready..........I am sure that you know the sort of thing. Not today though. Today, it was a Radiographer from the Kent Oncology Centre.
Given the glacial pace that the NHS usually works at, it was something of a shock to hear the well modulated Queen's English of a British Standard Radiographer. If you have ever had dealings with Radiographers, you will probably also have noticed that most of them seem to be frightfully well spoken and female. Quite a few of them also seem to be married to or living with doctors. One of life's little mysteries.
There are three possibilities that spring to mind that might have resulted in a call the day after I had seen the consultant:
- The Kent Oncology Centre is incredibly efficient
- They are not very busy
- The consultant told them about yesterday's consultation
Well modulated Sarah (WMS) introduced herself as the radiographer who would be co-ordinating my radiotherapy and would be "with me all the way through it". A curious expression, but I suppose it is meant to seem reassuring.
She went on to outline the process from here on in: I would need to visit the Centre 3 times before the radiotherapy could start. The first was to pick up some antibiotics and talk with her face to face, the second to have 3 gold implants and the third to have (another) CT scan. At some point I would also be contacted by a "scheduler" who would arrange the actual radiotherapy times.
After a fairly short conversation, we managed to get 3 down to 2. I could see to real merit in an initial "chat", so asked her to leave the antibiotics at reception and I would collect them next time I go to buy some dog food (the country store is not far from Maidstone Hospital where the Centre is based). The discussion about the date for the implants was the bit that made me wonder about 2 being a real possibility; I was basically invited to nominate a date and time! Having consulted my diary, we settled on next Thursday. As for the CT scan, I will be sent an appointment which I can then re-negotiate if necessary.
WMS told me that the consultant had probably given me an armful of leaflets explaining what would be going on. I explained that I am not a leaflet sort of person and that I think he probably picked up on that in a consultation that even he admitted he would not forget. She was amused by that one and did venture that his referral to her had mentioned that the radiotherapy should take place at an agreed fixed time every day for the 7.5 weeks. Being assertive / difficult / bloody minded can have its benefits..............
On the technical side, we did have a quick chat about the "blunt instrument" nature of NHS radiotherapy in which I expressed my usual incredulity that it is apparently impossible to focus a beam of x-rays (which is all it is) on anything less than a 4cm diameter. I got the usual NHS response which was, effectively, "that's just the way it is. If you think that I am being picky, take a small torch (flashlight for my USA reader(s)) and mark a 4cm line on a piece of paper. Now move the torch until the beam touches both ends of the mark. Seriously, is that the very best that NHS kit can do?
Watch this space to see how the Kent Oncology Centre compares with Medway Hospital and UCLH.
Tonight's song: I am afraid that this is another '70s throwback for no other reason than I enjoyed their gig in about '75
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItZqTueAaqU
Monday, 27 April 2015
Decision made!
After 9 months, today was the day that I finally decided that the local service is probably the best of a bad lot (to non UK readers, sorry about the idiom). The 21st century option was ruled out by UCLH on clinical grounds, so I am back to the 20th century options which are the only alternative in the UK. I could have continued to explore options in Europe or further afield, but it is time to call a halt and just get on with it.......
You may recall that I was "summoned" at less than a working day's notice to the anticipated appointment with the Oncologist. This meant missing a very important meeting, but on balance it was (just) a sensible decision to accept the appointment. It was what I expected, but I don't think that the consultant will forget it in a hurry!
Those who live in this country will be used to tales of hospitals full to the brim with people lying on trollies in corridors, stacked up in ambulances etc etc etc. You will also be used to politicians telling you that the NHS can be "fixed" by thowing money at it. The overcrowding may be true in some places, or some parts of hospitals, but the idea that you can solve anything by throwing money at it is b****cks. Why the rant? Read on.........
Appointment scheduled for 10:30 in the cancer day care unit at Medway Hospital. Signed in, only to discover that I was a "new patient" to reception; the cancer centre is not run by the same hospital group as Medway Hospital................ Lovely clean waiting area with curiously multi-coloured comfy chairs, little tables, a digital radio (tuned to radio 1?????), a volunteer offering tea and coffe (but not gin, I did ask), and virtually no patients. Indeed, the number of staff walking about being "busy" outnumbered us punters.
11:00 summoned by the consultant. A cheery, relatively young, chap with a good manner who actually comes out of his room to collect you. This is a complete contrast with the vast majority of the consultant body, but not unheard of. We had met before, but more as a courtesy to him for offering me an appointment just before I went on the UCLH odyssey.
An interesting 40 minutes or so ensued in which I asked as many questions as I felt I needed to. I won't bore you with the details, but it was both interesting, informative and, I think, pretty challenging for him; I was certainly not what he was used to! The upshot was that I am now signed up for a course of radiotherapy which will last 7.5 weeks. This is longer than the standard, but will lessen the risk of collateral damage which was, after all, the purpose of the quest. Thankfully, no parallel hormone therapy. Phew!
I am now to be contacted by a "scheduler" who will book me in for (another) CAT scan, the insertion of 3 gold implants (at least I will have some scrap value!) and the course of radiotherapy which will not start until June at my request. The radiotherapy will be daily, but only 5 days a week as we cannot expect the NHS to work at weekends. I have a feeling that getting a consistent time of day may be a bit of a problem, but I am fairly used to battles with the NHS, so do not anticipate too much of a problem......at least, not for me.
As I left the consulting room, on good terms I might add, I observed that he might need a stiff drink after that consultation. His response was amusing: " I think that you know the answer to that one". I hope that I did not spoil his day too much, but also hope that he might offer the information that I got out of him to future patients without prompting. I have a feeling that he will.
Getting late, so will stop writing now. Tomorrow I might add a post reflecting on NHS funding and its use of resources; if you are of the "all NHS problems can be solved by throwing money at it" mindset, you will probably want to give that one a miss. Unfortunately, you will be exactly the person who should be reading it......................
Your reward for getting this far: a song which sprang to mind over dinner this evening as being appropriate. Great pics with this one as well...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=heRyBhKi3kA
You may recall that I was "summoned" at less than a working day's notice to the anticipated appointment with the Oncologist. This meant missing a very important meeting, but on balance it was (just) a sensible decision to accept the appointment. It was what I expected, but I don't think that the consultant will forget it in a hurry!
Those who live in this country will be used to tales of hospitals full to the brim with people lying on trollies in corridors, stacked up in ambulances etc etc etc. You will also be used to politicians telling you that the NHS can be "fixed" by thowing money at it. The overcrowding may be true in some places, or some parts of hospitals, but the idea that you can solve anything by throwing money at it is b****cks. Why the rant? Read on.........
Appointment scheduled for 10:30 in the cancer day care unit at Medway Hospital. Signed in, only to discover that I was a "new patient" to reception; the cancer centre is not run by the same hospital group as Medway Hospital................ Lovely clean waiting area with curiously multi-coloured comfy chairs, little tables, a digital radio (tuned to radio 1?????), a volunteer offering tea and coffe (but not gin, I did ask), and virtually no patients. Indeed, the number of staff walking about being "busy" outnumbered us punters.
11:00 summoned by the consultant. A cheery, relatively young, chap with a good manner who actually comes out of his room to collect you. This is a complete contrast with the vast majority of the consultant body, but not unheard of. We had met before, but more as a courtesy to him for offering me an appointment just before I went on the UCLH odyssey.
An interesting 40 minutes or so ensued in which I asked as many questions as I felt I needed to. I won't bore you with the details, but it was both interesting, informative and, I think, pretty challenging for him; I was certainly not what he was used to! The upshot was that I am now signed up for a course of radiotherapy which will last 7.5 weeks. This is longer than the standard, but will lessen the risk of collateral damage which was, after all, the purpose of the quest. Thankfully, no parallel hormone therapy. Phew!
I am now to be contacted by a "scheduler" who will book me in for (another) CAT scan, the insertion of 3 gold implants (at least I will have some scrap value!) and the course of radiotherapy which will not start until June at my request. The radiotherapy will be daily, but only 5 days a week as we cannot expect the NHS to work at weekends. I have a feeling that getting a consistent time of day may be a bit of a problem, but I am fairly used to battles with the NHS, so do not anticipate too much of a problem......at least, not for me.
As I left the consulting room, on good terms I might add, I observed that he might need a stiff drink after that consultation. His response was amusing: " I think that you know the answer to that one". I hope that I did not spoil his day too much, but also hope that he might offer the information that I got out of him to future patients without prompting. I have a feeling that he will.
Getting late, so will stop writing now. Tomorrow I might add a post reflecting on NHS funding and its use of resources; if you are of the "all NHS problems can be solved by throwing money at it" mindset, you will probably want to give that one a miss. Unfortunately, you will be exactly the person who should be reading it......................
Your reward for getting this far: a song which sprang to mind over dinner this evening as being appropriate. Great pics with this one as well...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=heRyBhKi3kA
Friday, 24 April 2015
Here we go again.............
I thought that I might start by apologising for being back with more trivia to bore you, but then it struck me that you are here of your own free will, so if you read on, on your own head be it. Not sure whether the idiom will translate well for readers from Russia or the USA, but I am sure you will work it out.
If you have been following this so far, you may remember that sometime at the start of March UCLH decided that it would not be wise to treat me and referred me back to my local services. Regular readers will know that I am a good and compliant NHS patient, so I put my faith in the NHS ability to write and send letters. If you have read previous posts, you can probably guess what happened next..............
You guessed it: nothing!
After about three weeks, I emailed UCLH and asked for a copy of the letter that they had sent. No response, but curiously a copy arrived by first class post the next day. Even more curiously, I received a response to my email the day after that asking for my hospital number so that they could track the letter down. The phrase "the cheque is in the post" springs to mind.
Satisfied that the letter had been sent, I again played "good patient" and waited for a response from the local service. Three guesses...........
Nothing
On Monday this week I called the oncologist's secretary and asked whether they had received a letter from UCLH. Good job I had a copy; they had not received the letter. Scanned my copy and emailed it over to her.
This afternoon, by first class post, an appointment letter arrived. Over 6 weeks, and only that quick because I chased both ends; I hate to think what would happen to anyone who was not prepared to get stuck in and chase their own referrals.
Just to underline the NHS idea that we (the people who fund it) have nothing better to do, the appointment is for Monday. I have an important Board meeting on Monday, but have had to give apologies as even I cannot face the thought of yet more chasing to get another appointment.
Enough of me ranting about the shortcomings of the NHS. I should be grateful; after all, it is only 9 months since this journey started........you never know, I might actually get treated before we hit the 12 month mark.........or I might not.
For any reader who is from the UK and intending to vote in 2 weeks' time: if any of the candidates in your constituency says the NHS is wonderful, think very carefully before believing anything that they say.
.....and now a tune. Something which is both appropriate and highly inappropriate at the same time. Does not matter, it is a great song anyway......(that piqued your interest and will make you click on the link!)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=425GpjTSlS4
If you have been following this so far, you may remember that sometime at the start of March UCLH decided that it would not be wise to treat me and referred me back to my local services. Regular readers will know that I am a good and compliant NHS patient, so I put my faith in the NHS ability to write and send letters. If you have read previous posts, you can probably guess what happened next..............
You guessed it: nothing!
After about three weeks, I emailed UCLH and asked for a copy of the letter that they had sent. No response, but curiously a copy arrived by first class post the next day. Even more curiously, I received a response to my email the day after that asking for my hospital number so that they could track the letter down. The phrase "the cheque is in the post" springs to mind.
Satisfied that the letter had been sent, I again played "good patient" and waited for a response from the local service. Three guesses...........
Nothing
On Monday this week I called the oncologist's secretary and asked whether they had received a letter from UCLH. Good job I had a copy; they had not received the letter. Scanned my copy and emailed it over to her.
This afternoon, by first class post, an appointment letter arrived. Over 6 weeks, and only that quick because I chased both ends; I hate to think what would happen to anyone who was not prepared to get stuck in and chase their own referrals.
Just to underline the NHS idea that we (the people who fund it) have nothing better to do, the appointment is for Monday. I have an important Board meeting on Monday, but have had to give apologies as even I cannot face the thought of yet more chasing to get another appointment.
Enough of me ranting about the shortcomings of the NHS. I should be grateful; after all, it is only 9 months since this journey started........you never know, I might actually get treated before we hit the 12 month mark.........or I might not.
For any reader who is from the UK and intending to vote in 2 weeks' time: if any of the candidates in your constituency says the NHS is wonderful, think very carefully before believing anything that they say.
.....and now a tune. Something which is both appropriate and highly inappropriate at the same time. Does not matter, it is a great song anyway......(that piqued your interest and will make you click on the link!)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=425GpjTSlS4
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