subject: Golly! Gosh! The Jolly Old National Health Service (NHS) [print this page] After watching the floods in Pakistan and reading about the doctor and charity workers murdered in Afghanistan, I, inadvertently found myself in hospital. It was a complete surprise visit. But, you know what they're like: paramedics, ambulance, wheel-chair. I knew I had passed the point of no return. I would be at least a couple of days on a ward, while they did all the tests.
As I was being wheeled, like some latter-day Cleopatra, through miles and miles of pristine corridors, with their bays and cubicles, calmly staffed by the professionals, my heart filled with emotion. I thought of all those drowning homelands and the dispossessed, with their children and old folk, all searching the dry land.
"How lucky we are and so ungrateful," I thought, as tears welled up and ran down my face.
I thought of the medical team destroyed in the harsh region where medical aid is practically unheard of. I thought of all that suffering.
Greatly humbled, I was quickly and efficiently dealt with, soon given a bed and a locker. I knew it! This would be my "home" for at least two days. You see! Self-pity raising its ugly head already.
Another lady was brought in. She was about seventy years old, with dark eyes, full of compassion and an Eastern European complexion and very quietly spoken. Taking my hand, she asked, "Are you all right, dear?"
"I'm fine, really. Thank you."
"Don't worry too much," she said. "We are all in the hands of the Lord," and proceeded to unpack her bag. Amongst her belongings was a little golliwog, which she placed against her pillow. "Have you any family?" she asked.
"Yes, I have three children. Have you any children," I enquired.
"No. I never married," she replied. "This is Tobias," she explained, stroking the little golly's head. Don't you think he has the happiest smile you have ever seen?"
I had to admit, what, with his sparkling eyes, his was the happiest smile you could ever wish to see.
"He's all I have to talk to. He likes me talking to him. I know its silly but I've had him all my life."
A nurse came in, observed the scene and went out again, returning with another nurse.
"Um!, Rosanna" said the second nurse, "Toys aren't really allowed on the adult wards. Would you like to put him in your locker?"
"No. No," came the response. "That would be awful. He'll stay here with me."
To save any further argument, the two were called away, soon returning with another admission; a very frail, old lady, terribly thin and too weak to sit up. Two young girls in semi-Muslim garb accompanied her. They stroked her hands and face, then went to hunt for snacks, while the nurses sorted out the bed. Soon, the two young girls returned with biscuits and sweeties, which they, kindly, began to offer around the ward.
"Who is that?" asked the younger of the two girls. "Does your dolly have a name?"
"He does," said Rosanna. "This is Tobias."
"May I hold him?"
"You may, indeed. He likes company."
"Look." (And I think she called her grandmother Bibi) "See, that is Rosanna over there and this is Tobias. See how he smiles at you." Grandmother was almost too weak to open her eyes but a little smile played, momentarily, about her lips.
Another lady was brought in, suffering from an advanced stage of dementia. She did not know where she was and could barely remember he own name but she would not stay in bed. None the less, the staff dealt with her very efficiently. It seemed easier for them to deal with this difficult patient than with the little golly. Eventually, someone made a highly transparent plastic mackintosh, with a stapler, for him (so that he would not contract any infection) and everyone was happy.
What a carry on! Left to their own devices, people usually sort themselves out. David Cameron ought to know, we already have the Big Society. Rosanna is going to pray for me and I have promised to pray for her. Heaven help us.
Golly! Gosh! The Jolly Old National Health Service (NHS)
