Yesterday I went with my sister-in-law and my twin sister to visit eldest sister in hospital.
Luckily we negotiated the only clear part of the gridlocked A55 during another reported "wettest day of the year", leaving behind a semi flooded field, some miserable looking wet hens and 8 hysterically happy Indian runner ducks paddling in the downpour.
Even though I have been a nurse nearly thirty years, my experience with private health care has been minimal, so I was intrigued to see what a private hospital actually looked and felt like, albeit from the perspective of a visitor.
Apart from the slightly claustrophobic feel of the building, the spacious single rooms and the state of the art free coffee machine in the foyer, the unit was exactly what I expected.
Prim reception staff in their executive uniforms, cheerful non- harassed nurses and doilies on the tea trays gave the hospital the look of a mid range modern hotel and when we found our somewhat pale and shattered patient, who was now feeling the more uncomfortable side effects of a major orthopaedic operation, I was so glad that she had oped for the private route.
Now don't get me wrong, the nhs, (an organisation I have been a part of for most of my adult life) does provide a good standard of care in most areas of it's primary health care provision. and in the areas I have had direct experience of ( namely spinal Injuries in Sheffield and Intensive care in Wales) the quality of care has been second to non. BUT ( and there IS a but here) when I saw the usual "bon vivre" missing from my sister's face I was so glad that she wasn't crammed into a busy hospital bay of six beds over seen by one overworked staff nurse and a physiotherapist who had three hip replacement patients to assess before lunch.
Do you get where I am coming from?Course you do
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Father in law will be arriving in a few hours and "operation dog snot removal" has now been completed to my satisfaction.
A casserole is cooking , I am just off to buy some flowers for the table (and will pick up a couple of coop mates for the lonely Annie when I do so)
and I have just polished the cottage coal dust from the woodwork in the sitting room, leaving the sweet faint smell of wax around the house!
The place looks lovely
oh
apart from a sudden pile of mouse body parts which have been regurgitated in the centre of the lounge carpet..............
I give up