Monday, March 1, 2010

And the little one said roll over

I shouldn't be writing this, I certainly shouldn't have to. I should be in the hospital having had my bloods taken and be waiting for the chemo drip to be put up this afternoon but I am not. Ann the bed manager called this morning. She is lovely and we are now on first name terms. She is a nice person doing a very nasty job and she said they didn't have a single spare bed; there had been emergencies and people transferred from their other hospital, (Selly Oak for the locals). They will call me tomorrow to see if there is a bed and of course I will be a priority, and I think yes, along with the emergencies and the other people turned down this morning. I asked if this was safe as I was supposed to be on a course of treatment, so much every three weeks etc and she said this was normal and it would all just roll over; and I think yes when someone rolls over and then falls out of the bed, no doubt, just as the song says.

Now it may not matter if I miss a day or even two, although I would like to see the evidence! But does it matter that I will now probably not be able to go with Harry to see Alice in Wonderland on Saturday as I will still be feeling rough? Does it matter that my calculations about whether I will be able to meet up with my American friends on a rare visit to Paris in April are now thrown out? Does it matter that we have had to tell the garage that Stewart now can't pick up our car tomorrow morning? Does it matter that according to my doctor I can expect to live for about another 9 months on average and this is one wasted day of that nine months or 19 or whatever it is? Yes it ****ing well does matter; all of it.

Wake up people YOU DON'T HAVE ENOUGH BEDS! And don't tell me that the new hospital will sort it because I was there don't forget when the reduction in beds was announced and I asked would this affect patient care and I was fobbed off as usual by the Oh but we will manage it all better nonsense. This is happening to me and my fellow cancer sufferers now people, here, not in a third world country, not in some distant rural locality but in BIRMINGHAM, in the second city of a relatively rich country in a REGIONAL CANCER CENTRE, people!

If I had hair I would tear it out, instead this post is going off to my old gang. So Andy, David N, Cynth, Elisabeth, David C and Julie what do you say? Is this a service to be proud of? If it was your Mom etc etc...

1 comment:

  1. As you said, YES, IT F**KING WELL DOES MATTER. All of that stuff matters; it's all important.

    This sort of thing pisses me off so much I can hardly talk.