Leg-iron penned an interesting report from his local hostelry yesterday. One paragraph in particular caught my eye.
One of the other drinkers had been in for an operation on his hand. General anaesthetic stuff. The dreaded ‘Nil by mouth’ sign hung over his bed before breakfast. He watched the rest of the ward at morning and midday feeding times, he waited and waited and eventually evening feed came round. In between clutching his empty belly, he asked a nurse when his operation would be. She went to check.
It had been cancelled. The doctors knew, the surgeons knew, and of course admin knew. Nobody thought to tell the patient.
Let me tell you how different things could be.
I have also had an operation on my hand. In France.
I had no idea I had anything wrong with my hand, no pain, no symptoms, nothing.
I had been troubled with a pain in my upper back for some years. When it became severe I had visited my Doctor in England. ‘Hah! I see you smoke, yes well, you knew the dangers, hmmn, we’ll get a lung x-ray’. There followed a two week delay whilst I waited for an x-ray appointment. Followed by another three week delay for an appointment to see the consultant to find out the results of the x-ray. Five weeks of silently wondering whether the plethora of anti-smoking propaganda was actually true or not.
It seems my lungs were as clear as a bell. Good. The consultant offered no advice as to what the problem might be, he was a lung specialist and my lungs were in fine fettle. He advised me to return to my GP. The GP, looking slightly disappointed, recommended physiotherapy. I shan’t bore you with the details of no physiotherapist available for four months etc, when I finally got an appointment her efforts made no difference whatsoever.
Ten years after the pain commenced, I moved to France. Here, it is necessary to make an initial appointment with a Doctor before you register – he wants to make sure his patients are in perfect working order before they come under his care.
I phoned for an appointment. No receptionist, the Doctor answers his own phone – could I wait three hours to see him! Naturally I could, once the shock of this response wore off. I arrived at precisely 2pm; lo! the Doctor was standing behind his glass front door and it swung open to admit me as soon as he saw my silhouette appear. Gracious!
‘Bon jour’, Madame Raccoon, he stuck out his hand to shake mine, as per normal in France. Everybody shakes your hand, all the time; I hadn’t realised that I had developed the habit of steadying my right arm with my left arm instinctively to prevent them violently shaking my poorly shoulder and causing me pain. It didn’t escape his attention.
He checked me over, blood pressure, heart rate, height – (ooh la la!), weight, and then asked if he might take a look at my hand. H examined it thoroughly.
‘Do you sleep at night’……I shrugged, ‘not that well, my age I suspect’…..’not your age at all’, he said, ‘you need an operation on your hand’. I was bemused, there was nothing wrong with my hand at all as far as I knew.
‘Trust me’ he said, ‘you need to see M. Joudet’. He picked up his phone, an appointment was made to see the consultant M. Joudet the …..following day!
The following day, a Friday, I arrived to see the consultant in the local hospital. Again, waiting at the door of his consulting room to greet me, precisely on time, chair pulled out for me, he seated himself opposite and examined my hand. ‘Do you have any pain’ he asked, ‘No’, I replied. ‘not in your arm, or maybe your shoulder’ – he indicated the precise spot where I had had the pain in my back. I retold the tale of the lung x-ray. ‘Tsk, tsk’, he muttered, ‘quelle domage’, in the resigned tone of one who had heard of the fabled NHS before. He took out his appointment book, his face fell.
‘Madame, I am so sorry but I have no room left for Monday, would you mind if we left this until Tuesday’? I kid you not!
Tuesday morning, I arrived at 7am. Single room with en-suite bathroom. Utter silence in the spotlessly, scrubbed to within an inch of its life, hospital. By 7.30 a helpful nurse who appeared to have nothing better to do than fold and hang each item of clothing as I took it off, had me showered and dressed in a starched operating gown. A porter appeared and wheeled me to the theatre. The sugar lump she had placed under my tongue must have done its work, for I know nothing more until I awoke at 10.30am, back in the room, with the nurse mopping my brow and muttering ‘pas de panique’ . By 12pm I was able to dress and go home.
To my total amazement, M. Joudet, the consultant, phoned my home the next morning…..just checking that I was not in pain and making sure that I knew I had to return in four days to have the stitches out! That appointment, as all others had been, was on time, in an atmosphere of complete calm and tranquillity.
This is not some miraculous private hospital, this is the French National Health Service! Correctly diagnosing ailments that the patient hasn’t even mentioned, apologising for making her wait four days for the cure, everything conducted with absolute chivalry and dignity. The cost to me was exactly 60 euros – the anaesthetic being listed as an ‘optional extra’ – apparently a general anaesthetic would have been free, but I wouldn’t have been home in time for lunch!
Yes, the French National Health service is in debt – as is the UK version.
The difference being that they see their patients as being important customers, not ‘targets’ to be pushed through a system by an anonymous bureaucracy.
Perhaps Leg-Iron’s drinking companion should take a holiday in France.
Anna is the landlady of the Raccoon Arms. She lives in the Monbazillac area of South West France and still takes a keen interest in British politics.
{ 38 comments }
Now thats service, Gosh it used to be like that in the NHS about 18 years ago in Scotland. I actually had an orderly help me to the shower when I couldn’t walk following a back procedure.
I even got tea toast and marmalade delivered to my bedside at 11.30 pm the night before. And I got a decent pre med I was flying by the time I got in and the venflon didnt even hurt.
AR, I just felt a flicker of temptation as I read … bet you don’t have a French computer though!
It does upset me when i hear of the sort of ‘health servce’ other countries enjoy, that we, in england, can only access by paying extra and ‘going private’.
I don’t know how it could change, is it ‘just’ the fault of too many administration staff swallowing up the money ?, or is it doctors who won’t change the way they have done things for generations ?,
could it be that government has to accept that the NHS needs to be funded by a bottomless pit of cash, because you can’t budget for ‘unknowns’, like the 7/7 bombings. Those hospitals working over time treating the victims of that day, had to cover the cost of extra work and resourses out of their existing budgets ! Madness.
Hello AR.
I’m trying to convince Mrs Killem to retire to France. We have a lovely little bolt hole in Burgundy, from which we returned yesterday, and I’m trying to stretch the time we spend there together for breaks, with a view to spending 6 months over there at a time.
Un petit souci. Do you know what she doesn’t like about being in France?
The hospitality! In our tiny hamlet of 17 properties, someone is always offering something -”l’apero”, a meal, a day’s hunting, a “jour d’attelage” or some such. Any and all are accompanied by Burgundian food and, of course, the very best of French wine. Heaven – but not for Mrs it seems.
Not in the same league as your doctor’s story, but reflective of this bog of eternal stench, this little gem.
We came back from a trip to France, and I went along to the local car wash. On arrival, I asked the for a mini-valet. “Oh, ‘ang on. I’ll get me diary”, says the British worker with a British job. “I’ll do yer on Friday, mate”.
“Friday? That’s tomorrow”.
“Nah, mate. Necks Friday. S’all I got”
I went to the Poles who run a hand car wash down the road. SEVEN of them swarmed over the motor, inside and out – job done in less than 15 minutes. To perfection.
We’ve rubber-dicked ourselves over here – we’ve lost it. Big time.
France beckons.
Mrs Killem might just have to be replaced. (Kidding).
How much tax do the french pay ?
Do the countries who’s services we envy, pay more in tax than we do, even with all are add on taxes ?
Denmark has an enviable health and transport service, but they pay one of the highest tax rates in the world.
Theres just one thing with France though The Napoleonic Law
Im not fond of that particular bit.
We think we have a wonderfull health service here in the UK because we’re told we do. It’s another example of the ‘conditioning’ of our minds by the state.
miss mink May 24, 2009 at 2:32 pm
How much tax do the french pay ?
Do the countries who
Harri – did you not need a translator to understand the Doctor?
Miss Mink says ………… ‘or is it doctors who won
There’s so much I could say here.
I remember being in hospital for knee surgery some years ago. I had to go to the ward the previous evening. Had nothing to eat and was pre-med’d ready to go to theatre around 10.30am. At midday I queried (not for the first time) what was happening – you know when you have that feeling something’s wrong. I was then told I should make a formal complaint because the nursing staff had no idea what was happening. Around 3.0pm I went to theatre having been prepared for theatre again. I returned was hurriedly checked to see if I could walk with crutches and thrown out at 6.30pm. Wonderful service!!!
In the last year I have had further knee trouble, torn cartilege in my left knee this time. Had the X-rays with little evidence of anything. Then had a scan which showed the tear. Some months later got the appointment for operation. This in a private hospital 30 miles away on a Sunday. All went well but then had to go to physio. The physio, without asking what had happened decided that the problem was not my knee but my right ankle. I walkded out and found somebody else (paid for). I’m still having problems as there is a lot of degeneration of the knee with osteo-arthritis. This is causing me great pain and discomfort. The knee is very weak and is causing problems with my mobility. Been to see a consultant who reckons that phsio will do the trick. Have spent 6 hours waiting to see consultants for only 3 appointments. Have complained about this and am awaiting outcome, presumably because the NHS is for staff and NOT for patients and we only get in the way.
That will do for now….:0)
Blink ………….. Absolutely outrageous. Any chance of laying blame at the NHS door for any of this and seeing a solicitor? If people don’t sue the NHS ………. I guarantee that it will never get any better because they literally get away with murder.
I had to sue a surgeon and it took me 6 years and about 80K in costs (which I got back)……….. but I can guarantee that everybody who sees the cocky bastard from now on has the best treatment money can buy. – And his insurance has gone through the roof.
My particular cocky bastard did a handful of hours at a major teaching hospital for the NHS ………… and then proceeded to see all his private clients in NHS rooms on NHS time and consistently abused all the NHS facilities and equipment. I was paying him in the region of 300 quid per hour for consultations and 5 hundred quid an hour for operating costs. Imagine how annoyed I was when I got the theatre costs bill …………. knowing that he had ‘borrowed’ the NHS theatre for the day! What a cheeky bastard ………… He should have been an MP!
Just recently one of my closest friend’s father died of one of the NHS’s super-bugs. The cornoner went to his house a couple of days after his death and asked the family if he was outgoing as a teenager and if he had ever enjoyed a drink or a cigarette.
He had died because the NHS cannot keep its hospitals free from super-bugs ………… but the coroner wants to know if he was a party-animal forty years ago! Solicitors already engaged.
Just last week my sister-in-law was slumped in a hospital-bed begging to go to the loo. The staff informed her that her nurse was just having her Tarot cards read ………. but would be with her as soon she had finished! Solicitors engaged.
I have just had the pleasure of traipsing about looking for my consultant in an NHS hospital this week ………… He managed to slot me inbetween two of his NHS patients. I asked him how he reimbursed the hospital for his time and their facilities …………. I have told him not to send me an invoice for his consultation. Needless to say he will not be doing my next op.
Who is really in charge of the NHS? It is being ripped off every second of the day by the people we are supposed to revere and respect for their skills in life and death situations ……….. I would personally prepare the rope for whoever should be hung for the state of the NHS.
I’m quite sure in an organisation the size of the NHS, that there will be some horror stories. However my Mother has been under their care several times in the last few years. I have to say her care has been nothing short of brilliant, and the people working in the wards were equally so.
Anna, your experience reminds me of the time – 16 odd years ago – when I first saw a doctor over here. I’d slashed my arm badly helping a French couple in the next village. I bound it up and as far as I was concerned it could wait until I could do something about it – I have paramedic training – but no, the husband called the local doctor who arrived in 10 minutes, took one look at it and took me to his home/office where he put 8 stitches in and told me telephone him if anything got worse and to return in a week for him to check. If I remember correctly it cost me 100 franks – 15 euro – in total. I went back a week later at the appointed time, his wife asked me if I minded waiting because his previous patient was taking longer than expected. A quarter of an hour later he saw the patient out and apologised profusely for keeping me waiting. A total contrast to the time I had to see a doctor in the UK for a blood test for a visa – that took all morning before I was seen even though I had a 9 o’clock appointment.
As an aside to janes comment re French computers – computers are not country specific, keyboards and programs can be. I use a UK English keyboard because I learned to touch type on an English typewriter, most of the programs I use are US English because there are no UK English equivalents – or French for that matter – and it’s mush more productive using what toy know.
US English….
Sigh………
Two countries divided by a common language Saul!
And still no spel chkr!
I was hanging around in case there were any failed “bloggers” trying to gain some notorietry on your coat tails. Seems it is an occupational hazard of being successful that when they receive no comments they drop in on you. Still, they probably have bugger all better to do.
Hang on! I resemble that remark!
Ms Raccoon. In view of Middlesbrough FC’s capitulation in the Premier League, I have to admit to feeling quite confrontational. I would welcome the usual night time d*ckhead comments, I am just in the mood for them.
Where’s *** when you need him? I enjoyed taking the p*ss out of him.
Is it really that bad, Saul?
I NEVER use US English, but that doesn’t help now, does it?
Anything else you want a heated debate about before I lay my “Grippe Cannoise” to bed?
Milady, whatever you say.
I say nothing, Saul. It’s thou that hast the urge to debate.
As for my part, and for a short time, anything but soccer [or "foot" as they say in France].
As I just returned from Cannes, would you like to “filet” the selection, the films, the directors, the jury and the prizes…
Good night
Went to local doctor Guildford to check a few spots on my chest. Was told not to be silly just moles. Went back to see another doctor. He said not to worry but if I insisted he would refer me to a NHS specialist. Appointment eventually offered. 4 months wait. Went to France in interim. Saw a GP. She said you have a melanoma get it seen to today. Saw specialist next day. Removed Grade 4. Just in time.
Wife says UK GP’s are rewarded for not sending you to specialists.
Savonarola, you have a good point here, I shall check – are they rewarded for not sending you to specialists?
We were originally neighbours in France to another English lady who had gone to her Doctor complaining of severe headaches. Sent away with HRT menopausal pills! Went back six months later, still complaining. Put on a waiting list for a scan. Moved to France, mentioned headaches to Doctor on initial visit – naturally scanned next day – massive brain tumour, poor love. They saved her life – three months later she got the letter forwarded to her from England – Voila! she had just come to the top of the waiting list for a non urgent scan…..she would have been dead by then!
There aren’t enough doctors, in the Health service at the moment. No one in the NHS will tell you this. There is a massive shortage in the middle ranks. As for the reward for not sending you to specialists, I think it has to do with money, if you sort it in Primary care the PCT ( monopoly) doesn’t have to pay for the treatment. PCTs hate having to pay for treatment by specialists because it costs them dear Never mind the patients this is about money saving. Savonarola, if you ever need something done quickly go abroad. If I want to see my GP I need to know at least 10 -12 days in advance if I go through the normal system. ( which of course is a joke )
If you get more moles check to see if they are symmetrical If they are not or are growing then get them removed immediately. Now that you have had them I would check every three months.
Both the French model and the German model health systems work very well. They are far superior to the NHS. I assume though that you have some form of medical insurance as well as paying quite high taxes to the French government? The French health system is expensive but well funded. It is an excellent system and one we arrogantly dismiss and refuse to copy. No politician in the UK is brave enough to admit the NHS isn’t world class, that it is overstaffed and has a tendency to outsource to the lowest bidder as opposed to the highest quality bidder. It is this mindset that cripples it. Plus having an order of magnitude or more too many administrators and managers. A hospital in the 1960s had about 8 managers/admin staff excluding departmental secretaries. Now they have 100-200 depending on the size of the hospital.
I would love to see the NHS run along French lines or converted to the French model. Our doesn’t work well, except for intensive care. However, there would be a very high resistance in the UK to personal health insurance in addition to taxation re the health service. Most people are brainwashed into thinking it’s free. They forget the taxes that are paid to fund it!
@ Henry
I can see my GP on the day I phone up. This is the nationwide system. Unfortunately you cannot book an appointment with a GP days in the future. It has to be immediate. Government targets of course. This is part of the problem with the NHS.
Henry of North London(thank you) has outlined the system that rewards the PCT for restricting access to specialists. I will try to research the precise formula.
For follow up I now go a skin specialist privately; every six months. Dr C is very good. Thorough.
Friends of a certain age all go to France for knees and hips. Spotless hospitals. Room for spouse at modest price. French would not put up with dying by the thousands in NHS hospitals. They are puzzled by our epidemic of deaths from MRSA.
Indeed, Savonarola, I am just about to start writing another post about France, which will no doubt annoy some, but I’m afraid they do keep getting things right – including their habit of beheading those arrogant bastards in power!
I’ve sharpened my knitting needles and have already cast on in readiness…
Gloria, you are back!
How very glorious.
I am, I am. It was so quiet when I arrived, I had just started knitting myself a bit of tumbleweed to roll through the threads whilst I held a reedy note on my kazoo ….
I’m just back from my constituency where I’ve spent an uncomfortable week having to explain to an angry mob why it was necessary to submit several receipts for support stockings and music lessons. I should have thought it was obvious, actually, although a knee-buckling kazoo rendition of Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” quickly had the horde putting down their cudgels and sidling off without so much as a whimper.
I hope to be back at Guthrum Acres en Mayenne en juin-
My little part of Heaven, where the nearest authority is M Le Maire
Precisely http://lookingforavoice.blogspot.com/” Guthrum - and M. Le Maire is absolutely answerable to you in the boulangerie, the boucherie, or anywhere else you choose to corner him………and nothing said in Paris or Brussels has the slightest impact on your life until such time as M. Le Maire says it does!
I read somewhere a few years ago the French health service was No. 1, Italy was in the top 5, and the UK was 26th. Not sure how they;re places these days but it doesn’t sound like there’s been much slippage.
{ 2 trackbacks }