The National Health Service - Thanks For Making Me Sick!

Over the last 60 years or so the National Health Service in Britain has been something we Brits have been really proud of. When I was a kid I remember Doctor Bruce cycling up to our house even on the weekends to see if we were okay, and check out our health. We never called the Doctor out, he just came as he saw it as his duty to look after his patients.

Over the years the village Doctor mentality came and went, until one day the GPs suddenly decided that it was a business to be a local Doctor and as for the patients, well they came second. But I hadn't realised how bad the NHS had become until this week. Even a few years ago if you phoned the Doctor and said can you come out to see us they would just get in their car and be up at the house within 20 minutes or so. Now its become a sham.

It started with a pain low down in my stomach. It didn't hurt that badly to start with, and knowing my history with kidney problems, I had a kidney op a few years ago, I realised that it must be a water infection. This went of gradually but then the pain became worse. And this was when the whole malarky started.

My friend phoned the Doctor. Please come out as she can't get down to the surgery as she is in too much pain, my friend said. Did he come out? Did he heck! He phoned back, asked me a few questions and diagnosed me over the phone. It must be a water infection, here, take the antibiotics and you will be fine.

So I started taking them. But the pain got worse. By the next morning it was so bad my brother called an Ambulance. I was in agony with stomach cramps on my lower stomach. Instead of the Ambulance turning up, a young paramedic came out for an hour checking my stats.

I was nearly screaming in pain, but all she was concerned with was my birthday, how long had I lived at this address and so on. At the end she said she would either call the Doctor out...! Or call for the Ambulance. I didn't know what was best. I was in pain but which one would be quicker?

In the end I opted for an Ambulance. They take you to hospital, look after you, and make you better, right? Wrong!

The Ambulance came, and instead of putting me in a chair to carry me down the stairs, I had to walk. If that wasn't bad enough when I got into the Ambulance they stuck me in a chair with a seat belt right over the pain! Then it took half hour to get to the hospital. By this time I was in more agony but was glad to get there. Or so I thought.

On entering the hospital, they pushed me in a wheelchair, we went through corridors and wards with tons of people in them. Every bed was full even Accident and Emergency. Then came the unbelievable part. Instead of putting me in a bed they pushed me out to A and E to sit with approx. One hundred people with silly problems like a twisted ankle, cut finger and people coughing all over the place!

By this time I was nearly fainting. The pain was abominable. My brother went to the desk and asked to see a nurse quickly. Anybody could see that I was in agony compared to small wounds that others had. But guess what? I was told the wait was over three hours!

I was nearly screaming by this time. My brother was getting in a state of panic because nobody and I mean nobody was taking any notice. There were kids screaming, people coughing, and others pushing my chair as they walked past.

After an hour of my brother arguing with them, a doctor came out and said, 'You had better take her home as she is in so much pain and get the local doctor out'!

So he got me a taxi and took me home. By this time I had fallen into an exhausted slumber. I remember going upstairs and falling into bed. Then he phoned the local doctor. Sorry he said, I won't be able to get there until four in the morning as I am so busy! Evidently there is only one doctor on call for the whole of Buckinghamshire which is a huge county!

By this time my ex partner had taken over. He started yelling down the phone at the doctor. By then I had passed out from pain. Eventually the Doctor came out at three in the morning. He examined me, stomach first, internally and everywhere else too.

It was found that I had internal bleeding inside the colon. Somehow I had split the lower colon probably through excessive exercise. The stomach contractions were a typical sign of this. The doctor said it was probably one of the most painful injuries that you can have! No shit sherlock!

I refused to go back to the hospital, so the Doctor gave me internal medicine, tables and stuff to take before I go to the toilet to stop it hurting. The technical term is called Fissure in Ano. This is usually just on the outside of the back passage. Its a small cut that is very painful. Mine on the other hand was a large tear inside my back passage, and yes there was blood. Sorry just telling the truth here.

The outcome is that now I am slightly better, but there is still a dull ache in my lower stomach that hurts like hell when I lift anything.

As for the National Health Service, well they can go to hell. It was like being in a fourth world country, yes fourth world! The doctor said it was really dangerous as I could have had really bad internal bleeding.

So thanks to the first doctor who diagnosed me. Thanks to the paramedic who stuck me in a chair. Thanks to the hospital, if you can call it that, who stuck me on a hard chair for three hours with screaming kids, and broken fingers. And last but not least, thanks to the doctor who took over eight hours to get to me.

Whoever said the NHS was going to pot? Yes it is, and it disgusts me.

My local hospital closed down the A and E department. And so did the other nearest hospital. Thanks to the government the hospitals are now over crowded, not enough nurses and full of incompetant staff.

The majority of nurses are employed from third world countries where their training is competely different to ours. Only last week a nurse was found to have taped a pacifier to a newborn baby who had breathing difficulties. Says it all doesn't it?

Good old England.