In praise of the NHS

The NHS is a political football that a moaning public sometimes likes to kick around. Middle class friends of mine with private doctors and private medical insurance to the hilt, the critical media and anyone who has suffered a delay or worse love to tell us it’s in a crisis.

My own personal experience is exactly the opposite. Nearly 20 years ago I contracted the potentially fatal disease known as the human flesh disease (necrotising fasciitis) and my life was saved by the response, care, expertise and resources of a NHS hospital with a NHS surgeon. At one stage in the initial critical period I was monitored 24 hours a day by 5 nurses.

I have a friend who works as nurse in the system basically in home care and who is model of diligence, hard work and cheerfulness. She is not untypical.

Yesterday free of charge I attended an abdomen aorta aneurysm screening (AAA).

With the appointment letter came a pamphlet which clearly explained the danger of a burst aorta, the main blood artery, to the heart.

The symptoms are undetectable so it’s provided for anyone of 65 or over regardless of means.

I attended the NHS centre, was seen on time and the examination was conducted by two nurses with a portable computer.

One obtains images of the aorta and immediately to my relief  I was informed that there was no problem.

The consequences were explained in the pamphlet. If there were signs of a moderate aneurysm this would be monitored regularly; a larger one would require cardio vascular surgery.

The procedure must have saved a significant number of lives.

Finally, and on a different tack, there is an old saying “There is none as queer as folk”.

I have blogged before on how much I enjoy the company of my window cleaner, Phil.  Every year round this time I invite my two managing agents, my handyman and other trades, to a Pizzeria.

I extended an invitation to Phil who declined as he does not accept Xmas invitations. This surprised me as he is an affable sort.

Last Monday he came round to clean the windows and conversation strayed to Xmas  day arrangements.

He says he does not do Xmas  as he is a Jehovah’s Witness.

You could have knocked me down with a feather.

I have nothing against organised religion as long as it leaves me alone.

However the vision of friendly Phil abandoning his bucket and shammy for the Watchtower gave me some difficulty.