I was standing in the wake-up room in a well-known, renowned hospital in the middle of London. I’d been looking after a little darling and his nervous parents and at last, after an hour or two of both empathic and chemical tender love and care, everyone felt much better. The little one’s tears were dried. The mother’s tense shoulders had relaxed and I was happy and proud with mine and my colleagues’ achievement. We’re bloody good when we put the gear in – and we do most of the time.
Now it was time to get up to the wards. A porter came returning an empty trolley to the recovery room from a previous ward transfer. She left the trolley beside me. My patient and his family were all ready – we were just waiting for the ward nurse to come down. “Hang on,” I said to the porter who’d already started walking out, “the nurse is just coming – could you help us taking another patient up?”
The porter turned around, looked at me surprised and explained that that’s not how it works. Then the ward nurse arrived. We were ready to go.
“We’re ready now,” I said. “Could you please help us taking this patient up to the ward?”
The porter then started explaining to me slowly, like to a child, that I can’t just ask her to do something. First I have to call the porter central, request a new job to be logged and wait for a dedicated porter to show up for this new specific task.
“I know this is the formal way” I tried, “but it always takes forever and while I do it you’ll be gone and then, at this time of the day, we’ll have to wait considerable time for a new porter and as we all, you, nurse and patient with family are here now, I thought that maybe…”
All while I was standing there like an idiot, watching the NHS slowly drown in dysfunctional bureaucracy.
“That’s not how it works,” said the porter, “that’s not how it works” she repeated while shaking her head and then slowly walked away from me and the family around the child on the trolley, down the corridor, turning the corner and finally disappearing out of sight. All while I was standing there like an idiot, watching the NHS slowly drown in dysfunctional bureaucracy.
I took the patient up to the ward myself. It worked out alright this time, but…
… something wasn’t right.
Next time you hear that the NHS needs more money, remember that it needs a couple of other things as well. Like common sense.
And staff who have the guts to break the rules at times.
Ja så är det när skrivbordsprodukter kolliderar med verkligheten. Beklagligt och rigit.
That’s how it is David we know all too well
Hope alls well with you
That’s just the way it is. We don’t have to like it or get used to it. And besides one person’s voice is nothing to them. If we don’t work together in achieving a common goal then there’s no point trying at all.
Hope you have more peace of mind now where you are. I heard you left C. shortly after I did.
Frustrating and stupid
This is really bureaucracy gone mad! NHS has always been run by managers with clipboards but not much sense, though this might sound like an exaggeration there is a modicum of truth in it. It needs a huge overhaul, better management
and more money poured into it which a mammoth task. The valiant staff are to be applauded for keeping it limping on…
XxxLucy
It’s everywhere ! but – this individual incalcitrance is long known as ‘jobs worth’ – and although you write about this in the NHS it is – everywhere, sometime.
Call me when you have a mo –
Mike