Recently, as a result of my wife being admitted into A&E and thence onto an associated ward in our local hospital on a number of occasions over several months, having had her scan appointment to assist in achieving a diagnosis, cancelled several times, I made several visits to deliver personal items my wife needed.
Clearly, and understandably, these visits were very short, masked and sanitised, passing the items to the ward nurse at the ward door.
I was struck by the peace and quiet throughout the hospital, empty corridors, closed café and shop, and a punishable offence for anyone smoking outside the entrance. No visiting hordes and available car park spaces. Despite staff having to deal constantly with the necessary complex COVID-19 requirements as they carry out their nursing duties on the wards and elsewhere, I guess that this environment will be making ward life so much easier with Mr Public and family no longer treading all over the place. Let’s keep it that way I say.
On my last short visit, I witnessed bureaucracy at its extreme. I was sitting on a chair against the wall of a narrow corridor, leading off the main corridor, which led down to two wards – one either side at the bottom of this corridor, waiting to collect my wife. On the two opposite walls where I sat, an array of notices relating to each ward were displayed. For some reason, which I fail to understand, one similar large, colourful, laminated notice on each wall displayed a chart giving the required number of staff for the ward on the morning, afternoon, and night shifts over the 7- day working week. Why would such information, expensively produced, need to be displayed on a public corridor?
Moreover, the chart above my head informed me that throughout the week the required night staffing had to be 4.5 staff!
NHS bureaucracy gone mad.
Doctors and nurses and all the ancillary staff are working their socks off to provide care and treatment around the clock whilst some pin-headed civil servant administrator has time to dream up such illuminated useless, unnecessary, twaddle. I fear that the NHS is a public service about to throttle itself to death.