I thought healthcare was supposed to be free

A story not literally true like the others on this site.  My take on the supposedly huge problem that is car park charges at hospitals.

 

A lady, not so old but far from young, started to have trouble of some sort or other. It had partly to do with her tummy and partly with down below. She didn’t want to go into details and it doesn’t really matter.

She did what most people would – trotted down to her local surgery, she lived only half a mile away, and got an appointment to see her GP two or three weeks later. Her GP, a lovely lady, listened to her attentively and said that she needed a referral to a consultant, a specialist in the field with decades of experience. The lady went home without paying anything. The GP wrote a letter to the consultant the same day.

A week later, the consultant read the GP’s letter and asked his secretary to arrange for an appointment with the lady. The day of the appointment came, but the very same morning her best friend called and she was absolutely beside herself. Her dog had died. It had been totally unexpected and she had to sit with her friend for the whole day and most of the next, that’s how bad it was. She felt she just couldn’t leave her friend who after all was of nervous disposition and had done so much for her through the years. She tried to call the hospital on the day but didn’t manage to get through and after while she gave up.

Meanwhile in the hospital’s outpatient department, the consultant had his clinic and on this day two names out of twelve were crossed out as DNA’s, Did Not Attend. Our lady was one of them. A new appointment was sent out. There was no charge.

The day of the new appointment finally arrived. She and the doctor introduced themselves in the consultation room of the little hospital north of town. She found him a bit reserved, but so was she, and what mattered was that he would be just as attentive as the GP had been. And he was. Concentrated, he sat and listened to the lady describing her problems. When she was done he leaned back in his chair, pressed his palms together and gave it all some thought.

“Ok”, he said, having thought it over, “we have three options.” He then proceeded to in quite a simple way, but still rather detailed, describe to her what the options were, what it meant and the pros and cons of it all. “He must be awfully educated and intelligent,” she decided, drifting away in her thoughts.

“What do you think?’ said the doctor then as he finished his little lecture.
“Oh dear,” said the lady. “I really don’t know.” There had been so many words and she felt a bit dizzy. She was reassured by the consultant that it was no problem at all. She could go home and think it all over and call his secretary when she had made up her mind. And so it was agreed. While the whole consultation had taken some time, much longer than at the GP, it was still just as free.

That night she was on the internet for hours, reading about all the different procedures and options and she came across some horror stories as well and started to feel rather nervous about it all. The next day, she saw her friend, the one that no longer had a dog, and the friend had lots of information and ideas and apparently, she knew of another consultant who might well have different opinions of what could be best the option.
“His patients all swear by him,” the friend told her. The other consultant was south of town, but the friend insisted that she had the right to see him if she wanted. “It’s called second opinion,” she said. “And it doesn’t cost anything.”
“Oh,” said the lady.
“Oh yes,” said her dogless friend.

After several days of severe ambivalence, she finally made up her mind. Her consultant had seemed perfectly sensible, intelligent and trustworthy. She would go with his first advice. A call to the secretary was made and the plan was set. Already one week later, she received a letter with a date a month ahead for the procedure. But first she needed to attend a CT-scan in order to clarify something and before long she found herself in a so-called imaging department in the hospital. There, people asked questions, a cannula was put in her hand and some medicine, god knows what, was injected and then she had to lay down on a trolley and go into this alien looking thick circle as it were, while all other people left the room. It was a little scary. However, it was all done an dusted in a minute and everyone was very friendly. No one asked for any money.

At last, it was time and she showed up at the little daycare centre north of town. She was met by a receptionist and then by a very nice nurse with an Italian accent, who asked her a whole load of questions and the lady got a bit nervous and started talking about different sorts of pasta, something she later regretted as it must have sounded really rather stupid. But if the Italian nurse thought so, she hid it well because she was very nice and professional all through. Then her blood pressure was taken and apparently, it was high, but the lady was told not to worry and it was suggested that she maybe had something called “white coat syndrome.” It made her feel a little special.

She was given a gown and stockings and was asked to change and then a handsome, but exceptionally young, man started going through the proposed surgery and he listed a whole load of possible and unpleasant sounding risks. She got nervous again and wondered where the educated and intelligent specialist was and the very young man, who must have been a doctor, reassured her that the consultant would be present in theatre and in charge of the procedure.

Then she met someone else and before long she found herself on a trolley and it was very bright. Someone asked her to count to ten and she started laughing, but then she remembered uncle John who had died in hospital, and she started crying and there was someone gently stroking her hair and someone else talking with her in a relaxing way and there was that young doctor and by God, did she wish she was young again! And then… She woke up. She cried for what seemed like no reason. A nurse attended to her. She couldn’t remember her face, but she clearly remembered her voice. It was as soft as the tissue that wiped her tears.

Her operation, which had made use of two consultants, two registrars, three nurses, one healthcare assistant and a whole load of high tech equipment and a generous amount of drugs plus an hour and a half of time, all adding up to thousands of pounds, came at no cost at all for the lady.

She was then transferred to the ward and they asked her how she was and said her blood pressure was no longer high. The Italian nurse offered her tea and biscuit and she couldn’t help herself resist dunking the biscuit, a bad habit she would agree if you asked her, but now she deserved it. However, just as she let the dry biscuit suck up some milky tea, the handsome young doctor came to check on her and she blushed and dropped the whole biscuit down the cup. Oh dear. When he’d gone, she asked if it would be possible to get a new one. Of course it was. The complimentary refreshments landed on her tray within a minute.

While she sipped her second cup of tea, she peeked down under the blanket to have a look at her tummy. There were three small plasters there. “Isn’t it clever!”, she thought, marvelling at it all. But it hurt as well and she got some painkillers which made her feel sick so she got something for that which made her very tired and then she slept like a baby for a good hour. She woke up feeling heavy, battered and slightly bleary-eyed. Badly in need for a wee, she stumbled to the loo. To her surprise, she had to sit there for what felt like forever before any urine agreed to come. It was strange. Her body told her one thing, but did another. Eventually, she was done and her dogless friend was called and informed that it was time for pick up.

The Italian nurse went through the procedure, the aftercare and the upcoming second appointment with the consultant. She almost looked forward to meet him once more. Then the nurse gave her two packs of painkillers. She recognised both of them from her bathroom cabinet but thought that she might just as well take them. “I may have use of them later,” she reasoned. Her friend had told her to make sure she got plenty of spare dressings with her home so she asked for that even though it made her feel uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to demanding things. Six spare dressings were soon tucked down her bag together with the painkillers. “They are very generous,” thought the lady and regretted she hadn’t brought a box of chocolates for the nurses. She thanked all the staff and started walking out towards the reception.

Just then, she remembered an important question she’d forgot to ask the doctor. She headed back to the nurses’ desk where her Italian nurse was sitting writing.
“I’m so sorry,’” said the lady, “but I completely forgot to ask the surgeon this particular question and… Oh dear!” Her eyes started to well up and she fumbled around in her handbag for some tissue. “Why is it that I always act silly among people, today even more than usual?” she thought to herself.

“Don’t worry!” said the nurse, pulled up a chair for the lady to sit on, gave her more tissue and then started consulting a little red notebook. Before she knew it, she found herself sitting talking on the phone with her consultant like it was the most natural thing in the world. He sounded so nice and was so polite, if a bit distant but that might have been the phone line. He answered all her questions and she felt much better.
“Thank you so much!” she said to the Italian nurse who just smiled back.

At last, she walked out in the reception where she was met by her dogless friend. She waved goodbye to the smiling receptionist and together they went out to the car park.
“Let me take the bag!” said the friend and resolutely grabbed hold of the lady’s little bag. Would you believe it?” the friend continued. “They charged me three pounds to park the car. Three pounds! And I thought healthcare was supposed to be for free!”

 

 

 

David Ingemarsson 2019