Intriguing, right? For me, that was the week that was. Sometimes, things make absolutely no sense. At all. The week started with a trip to a well-known High Street Opticians to both collect some trial contact lenses at the strength of my new prescription; and to also collect some free ‘reading glasses’ which where thrown in as part of a deal at the time of purchase.
As instructed, I turned up wearing my new glasses, which aren’t bold, or gaudy – but can clearly be seen nonetheless I would suggest. “Are you wearing your existing contact lenses?” was the first question on arriving and ‘booking in’. “Err, no. I have my glasses on, and my existing contact lenses are at my previous prescription.” This made sense, I’m glad to report, and I was herded to the waiting area. Whilst seated, I was informed that they would soon be taking me through to see the optician to have my trial lenses fitted and checked. I wondered whether this was the most efficient sequence of events, as I would need to check my glasses as well – and the goodness of the vision check would only be possible without prescription lenses inserted. “Oh, yeah…I’ll check with the optician and see what he wants to do.” Cool.
Soon after, in fact very promptly, I was invited to a side room to insert said contact lenses. Once again, I reminded the staff of my need to check the glasses I was also there to collect. “I think the optician wants you to do this first.” Ok, you’re the boss.
On leaving the opticians with contact lenses deployed and checked, I was taken for my glasses check and collection. “Oh, do you have your contact lenses in?” Yup. I had no interest in a ‘told you so’ moment, so simply suggested that I closed my eyes and they could check the fit! I may have cared more if it was a pair I had actually asked and paid for.
Tuesday of last week found me in the delightful city of York. On exiting the station, there was a substantial queue at the taxi rank, accompanied by a distinct lack of taxis. No problem thought I, as I walked to the short stay car park where Uber drivers are required to wait, and jumped on the app. Unsurprisingly, my driver ‘arrived’ soon after, and off I strolled to meet them. Suddenly a car sped out of the short stay car park into the path of a horn-blaring car. Hang on a minute. That’s the registration of my Uber. Owing to the building works in and around the station, security guards have been employed to ensure a smooth flow of traffic, so my first thought was to ask of him whether the short stay car park had been temporarily moved – thinking that was where my Uber was rushing off to. “No – still there, mate.” Ah. They’ve changed their mind about this trip – got a better offer perhaps, as is often the case. However, on checking my Uber app, it was showing me my ETA, and my Uber was currently driving the wrong person to my destination. I could see the journey unfolding on my phone. What I couldn’t do was contact the driver! It would seem that the ‘contact the driver’ soft button is no longer in force once you’re in the Uber. Makes sense. Only, I wasn’t in the Uber. Someone else was!
I couldn’t find any way of calling or messaging the driver, and ‘my’ journey was progressing swimmingly for someone else! In the end I hit the ‘I need help’ soft button. Now, this would appear to be a useful feature which automatically gave prompts aimed at establishing my safety, and whether I needed immediate help. I assured the app I was in fact safe, and I was soon after able to state I didn’t take the trip. Almost immediately afterwards, my ride was cancelled and I could request another one.
I’m pleased to report I could see the funny side of this, and was perhaps glad of another driver – having witnessed the erratic ‘skills’ of the driver taking someone else on my ride. Or at least I could see the funny side right up until I arrived at my destination. On arrival I received two email invoices for my ride. One invoice was in fact for the one which took someone else on my booking – but which had been reduced as they ‘noticed I hadn’t completed my full journey’! Oh no you don’t! I’ll have a full refund thank you! The refund was very quickly agreed through the app, and will be with me in three to five business days. Of course it will.
Thursday morning found me confidently looking ahead to a productive day with only minimal interruptions in my calendar. A day to ‘crack on and do’. Until the 1030 phone call came, anyway. When the call came, it was from a nurse in the Lincolnshire Colorectal Nursing Team who are responsible for arranging the scans and blood tests during my five-year monitoring programme. Whilst the cancer shows no signs of returning, thankfully, the scan did suggest there might be a blood clot on my right lung! I was NOT expecting that – not least as I was wholly devoid of any symptoms. Nonetheless, I was despatched to the hospital, to the ‘Medical Same Day Emergency Care’ unit, which on arrival, seems to be an annex of the A&E department. How my heart sang when I realised just how many people were already there.
Soon after arrival I was taken to a side room and suitably prodded and poked (ECG, blood pressure, and a canola fitted ahead of the CT scan and so that three blood samples could be taken), before being returned to the waiting area. As the time rolled on, I discovered I was in close proximity to two other patients with suspected blood clots. One patient had a leg which had clearly ballooned to twice the size of the other, and the second patient was ashen and clearly in some discomfort. And then there was me. Just bored, and a little confused as to why I was there. I did ask whether it would be better for all concerned for me to return for an arranged appointment another time. Apparently not. Eventually, I was seen by a clinician who was as convinced as I was that there was no blood clot. It would seem my three blood samples didn’t just show low levels of markers for clots, they were all zero. With my consent, she left to confirm with her consultant that there was no need for me to have a scan. The consultant agreed as, in their opinion, the shadow WAS an artefact, and it would be more detrimental for me to be exposed to the further radiation of another scan. Happily I made for the nearest escape route and made haste to the car park machines!
Whilst a little diversion, this really shows the very best of the NHS. Whilst the decision to check me over was made with an abundance of caution, the NHS really does pull out all the stops when needed.
And then there is the not-so-great side of the NHS, alas. Having ‘wasted’ a good deal of the day, it seemed sensible to continue with the medical theme, and pop to the Pharmacy to collect my prescription. What-a mistake-a to make-a! Two out of three of my permanent medications were unavailable and subject to restrictions as a result of nationwide shortages. One of my medications is Creon, and its shortage is endemic across the UK (and has been for quite some time). There was no indication of when it would come back in stock, and so I agreed to come back the next day, and asked if I could then speak to the Pharmacist for advice on who I could contact to help me source some.
When I returned the next day, and had said chat, it was a somewhat moot point (for now at least), as both medications had come in unexpectedly overnight. Result! The thing is, when one is no longer under the care of a clinical team, one is classed as being ‘in community’, I am told. Now, when you’re under the care of a clinical team, you can turn to them and ask them to source said medication – which they have done brilliantly for me previously.
When ‘in community’ however, you are on your own. I’m grateful to the wonderful, and frank Pharmacist for her honesty, but here’s the rub…Anyone ‘in community’ (and I am by no means alone by any stretch of the imagination when it comes to Creon) has to source a supply themself. This means either a physical trawl, or ringing around pharmacies to enquire as to whether they have any stock. Imagine how many calls each Pharmacy will have to field each day. The not so good part of the NHS is thus. The GP practice are responsible for issuing prescriptions, they have no access to stock level data anywhere. Once a prescription is issued, their job is done. The Pharmacist is responsible for dispensing the medication authorised by the prescription, but is only able to order medication from one of three authorised suppliers, and they have no access to stock levels data anywhere – not even within their own organisation. Hospitals cannot help, as they are only able to dispense to patients under the care of the hospital. From my own experience, I am aware they have no access to stock level data – not even within their own trust.
I love the NHS, but there are inevitably crevices into which patients will fall. There HAS to be a better way. In the immortal words of Jamie Cullum…my dear NHS… “But for now, let me say I love you. Later on there’ll be time for so much more…”
