Today’s blog is titled ‘The Cure’. No, not the indie band whose lead singer was born in Blackpool (Robert Smith), but a programme we watched at the weekend. And the trip it took us, down memory lane to our own similar experience…
But first, what a lovely weekend it was, very cold especially first thing, with frost all over the place. Can you believe it. It must have been very cold in the night as we don’t get all that much frost here, it looked like it had snowed. The sun was shining its head off and the beach was packed, well not quite packed, a bit of exaggeration there. But little white fishing boats were bobbing about, people having a good walk with dogs and all the rest.
Deckchairs, Sandcastles and Sunsets
The seafront car park was very, very busy might I add. Maybe because it’s free, cynical though I am. Saturday broke a record for me, when I saw two people sitting in deckchairs while a child was playing in the sand. It didn’t half make me smile to see someone enjoying their time on the beach. They seemed to be digging a hole or building a sand castle or something but it reminded me of better days to come when we’ve got Winter behind us. And the sunset, did you see the sunset on Sunday? Here it is if you missed it –
[arve url=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/Fuf5PwxnQdw” title=”Sunset in winter at Cleveleys” description=”Sunset in winter at Cleveleys” /]
We had a lovely lazy weekend, getting necessary jobs out of the way then having relaxing afternoons trying to catch up on recordings that we haven’t had time to watch. At this rate with the amount of them we’ve stored up we could be here while next Christmas, along with square eyes.
The Cure
One of the things we watched was ‘The Cure’ I don’t know if you saw it. You should still be able to get it on Channel 4 catch up.
It’s a true story about a mother and daughter who were at the centre of the scandal about elderly care at Mid Staffs NHS back in 2007. The mother went in hospital with a hiatus hernia, which isn’t life threatening I would say, having known people who live with it. Anyway, it all went from bad to worse when the mother had a fall following a gastroscopy to see how it had progressed etc. Anyway, the person looking after her was helping mum onto the bed when she dropped her, which triggered an unforeseen set of tragedies. Dropping her gave her heart failure, which she didn’t have before this happened, but it was as if it all went wrong from thereon.
Must meet the targets…
To say the staff were cocky was putting it mildly, the treatment the poor woman had from them on was appalling. The only thing management were bothered about was meeting the NHS targets, like they do. Saving money was the priority, not the patients, which I’m sure is happening a lot across the board. Her daughter was a good fighter I have to say, as she was well and truly in her mother’s corner. But she kept hitting brick walls as the management and staff were watching their own backs and not looking after the patient as they should.
Mother should have had extra Furosemide to help get the water away from her lungs that the fall had caused. Again, this fell on deaf ears with the nursing staff. They were appalling to say the least, and no matter how the daughter begged them to help her mum they didn’t. In the end she practically drowned in all the fluid in her lungs, due to sheer negligence. To give the daughter her due, she stuck at them for two years or more in spite of being threatened by NHS staff who were afraid of losing their jobs, and no doubt being shown up as not doing their job properly. It all took place at Stafford hospital. I well remember it happening, do you?
We could have done with ‘The Cure’
I went through the same thing when my mum broke her hip at 88 years old. After having it surgically pinned, she was put in a ward in our local hospital with three more women who were all old. I was told in no uncertain terms that she would probably die from the fall. No she didn’t, she recovered, sort of, but we all went through the mill.
She was allergic to erythromycin, an antibiotic which made her seriously ill. The staff were told but on having a look at her notes, they hadn’t noted the allergy on there. We went and told them to change it, which should have been done in the first place. Surprise surprise, it wasn’t changed for days, even after us nagging about it. That alone could have killed her had she needed an antibiotic.
The others were doped out of their heads on morphine and one in particular kept shouting that she wanted to poo. So what did they do, ignored her. When she had pooed in the bed and all over the place, they came after we told them to. They were busy having a natter, but when they did come, they yelled at the poor woman for doing it. The same happened to my mum. Off her head with morphine which can make you seriously constipated, they gave her a laxative that gave her diarrhoea. As a result, she didn’t know much as she was so drugged and she also pooed in bed. The nurses then played war with her for doing it. What can you say!
The Bowels of Hell
My mum ended up so distressed when she was sent to another hospital for rehab. It was like being sent to the bowels of hell. They were all rambling incoherently, obviously drugged out of their brains, all very old and the place stunk to high heaven. We told them my mum wasn’t staying there on no account, to which a very nasty nurse said ‘you can’t move her she’s staying’.
Like hell she was, it was nothing less than being in hell. The toilets were full of poo, it was on the walls and heaven knows what else, it was terrible. Luckily we worked for the local NHS at the time and knew who to speak to and did get her moved.
Bad to worse
But the devastating effect it had on her was terrible. She went from bad to worse and when she did get home, and for the rest of the four years that she lived, she wasn’t my mum anymore. It was as though she was mentally and physically broken and never got mended.
I could go on a lot longer with the stories but I won’t. It’s just to say that this sort of thing is still going on in the NHS and wants stopping. Reorganising the way that A&E works and stopping time wasters and all that sort of thing would be a start, but that’s another story. By the way, this wasn’t at the Vic but at the hospital where we lived back then, another lifetime ago!
While you’re here…
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