Last week my system decided not to work, in effect I was rather quickly going to poison myself! So a bit like an old washing machine or car – pipes and widgets had to get sorted and gunge removed from where it shouldn’t be. I was in for nearly five days, luckily things started to work again so a major operation was not necessary.
Hospitals are quite fascinating places, the hierarchies, structures and the outsiders who are the patients and visitors. I was on a ward for six men, it was a busy and ever changing environment, where we were living in an in-between space rather than the longer term wards I’d been in before,
As usual I saw amazing true care of patients, alongside some less bothered but then that is a workforce, they did their jobs, others gave more. For those outside the UK the NHS (National Health Service) is probably what we in the UK are most proud of, and yet, most moan about! However ill I am I have no fear of the financial consequences of being ill, I will get what is great healthcare. There are problems. At this my local hospital in North Staffordshire the nursing staff are on 12 hour shifts, can you imagine at 5.30am nearly 11 hours into your shift dealing with a person who is awkward, doesn’t know where he is, covered in excrement – but dealing with him with care, allowing him dignity, listening until after nearly an hour settling down and totally cleaning that person? And that on the lowest grade of pay? I saw that. These are not heroes or angels, they are professionals doing their job, which I think is a much greater compliment. They are understaffed, not dangerously, but there is a limit which now getting very close.
My photographs are of the ward and the ‘beautiful’ view through my window. It feels that the people who design the hospitals are not those who have stayed in them!
I have blurred the faces but felt the picture summed up ‘visiting time’.