Saturday, November 20, 2021

Surviving the NHS

Yesterday I went to the funeral of a friend's father at an old country church, a lovely ceremony attended by many family and friends. He was 98 and had lived a most interesting and useful life, for example having served in the Second World War as a radar expert in the Royal Navy - limited to the rank of Able Seaman so that if captured by the enemy they would not think to sweat military technology secrets out of him.

In 2009 he suddenly fell ill and was taken to hospital. When my friend got there he found his 86-year-old father lying untreated, unhydrated and basically on the Liverpool Care Pathway - a euphemism for the decision to let the patient die of planned neglect, thirst and withheld medication.

My friend spoke to the medics and the conversation went along these lines:

Why isn't my father in surgery?

- We're afraid he might die on the operating table.

What will happen if you don't operate?

- He'll die.

Get him into theatre now, or there will be consequences.

Two hours later, father was opened up; it turned out to be a burst ulcer, which was successfully treated.

He had another twelve years of fully alert life and the loving attention of his family.

And if my friend hadn't fought...


3 comments:

Scrobs. said...

Fulfilling story, Sackers! I hope the funeral was a joyful recall of a life well spent!

A close friend had a severe heart attack last year, and was in hospital for four months before being told to go home for 'palliative care' and 'end of life' preparation.

I had several beers with him recently, because he fought all that, is back to playing golf, tennis etc., and all because he is one of the fittest men I've ever known, having run several half-marathons and the big one just a few years ago!

I just love meeting chaps like that as well as those who might not have been so lucky! That 'Liverpool Care Pathway' seems far too ominous for my liking!

Sackerson said...

"joyful recall" - it was!
Liverpool "Care" Pathway - Satanic, imho.

Sackerson said...

JD comments:

Provocative title for a post! During my recent stay in hospital the doctors, to be fair, did ask me about whether I would consent to a DNR notice being placed at the head of my bed. We discussed it and my answer was yes/no, it depends. If I were a car or other piece of machinery I might have been scrapped or replaced years ago. I am not a machine but the NHS has forgotten the Hippocratic Oath, which advocates the art of healing, and is now fully in line with Boyle's 'machanical philosophy' which sees patients as machines which can be fixed or repaired, often with spare parts. As a reward the doctors/nurses tried to kill me with an overdose of Furosemide upon my discharge from hospital which damaged my kidneys. Fortunately my GP seeing the result of a blood test had me rushed back to a different hospital to have the toxins 'flushed' out of my system. Surviving the NHS indeed, despite their worst/best efforts!

On a related note, I have questioned every pill or tablet I have been prescribed: are they necessary and what do they do to my system? I am still asking the questions for my current medication of seven tablets per day, having reduced that myself from eight because of an adverse reaction to one of them.