The Joys of the NHS ( with GREAT sarcasm)

Dear Friends, (readers and countrymen),

After reading that title, you can probably guess that I don't like nationalized health care. They tell me that the NHS has improved in the past few years due to reforms, and all I can say is that is must have been UNBEARABLE in the past. Now, it's just really, really bad.

You might be wondering why I, a healthy person, would have any contact with the NHS. Let me just say right now that it wasn't serious. Basically, my new retainer started rubbing on my lower gums, under my tongue, which caused a blister. The blister broke and then my body responded by growing a lump the size of a lima bean in that place. It was 7mm in diameter to be exact. (I took a picture, but I don't think you'd like to see it).

Well, my retainer definitely needed fixing at this point, so I went to a local orthodontist for some help. He had the coolest office ever. It was designed like a ship with three 'decks' and a long staircase in the middle.

The orthodontist took one look at my mouth and developed a very worried look on his face. Apparently, this was not supposed to happen. Ever. He trimmed my retainer for me and gave me a nice note to take to the hospital so they would treat me asap.

Well, I went home, had some dinner and then set out on a very windy, rainy evening to the hospital. We got lost a couple of times and every person we asked gave us a different set of directions.

Well, I explained my problem, showed them my note and waited in the waiting room for about a half hour. During that time I saw people come in with bad back and bleeding hands. Everyone had to wait, regardless of their injury.

Then, I saw the Triage lady. She basically just laughed at me. She was quite rude to everybody. I'm so glad I wasn't dying.

Then I waited for another two hours and was seen by a doctor who looked at me and then told me to make an appointment with an upstairs clinic. AHHHHH!!

Well, a few days later a got a call and set up an appointment. I didn't get to choose the date or the time. Luckily it worked out. I waited in that waiting room for an hour and a half and got seen by another doctor. Apparently the first doctor didn't talk/give notes to the second doctor. So, we started from scratch.

He was Irish and had such a cool accent, except for the fact that he mumbled quite a bit. He decided to cut the thing out right then and there (after some persuasion from a collegue who insisted that I was uncomfortable and there was no reason I shouldn't have the surgery. I really liked that guy.)

It wasn't such a bad procedure. I got one stitch :) The worst part was the Novocaine (my mouth started bleeding all over the place when he juiced me up. I HATE Novocaine. )

Supposedly, I have to go back fro a checkup, but again, they get to decide when and where.

The NHS in a nutshell:
- you have to wait in very long lines because everyone who has an ingrown toenail goes to the hospital to get it fixed
- they apologize for the wait, but don't ask them to take your blood pressure right then
- the hospital is basically the medical version of the Circumlocution Office. If you don't know what I mean, read Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens.

Enough ranting. I'm really glad it wasn't more serious. If I was dying, I would be dead by now. (FYI, I'm fine).

Now, back to my essays...Cheers!

--Mary