8 February - Hayley the Unhelpful
Listening to and reporting on more of the Places webcast today was
always going to be a tall order but the tin-hat was put on things when Queen
Elizabeth Hospital called to say my next appointment had been brought forward by eight days. No real problem
except that my preceding blood test had to be done today instead of early next
week as planned. Again not a big problem because I needed to get into central
London today and breaking the Liz line journey home at Woolwich is an easy
option. The Liz was a mess as usual but there is not much they can do about a
fatality beyond Paddington. Fortunately the announcements saying there was no
eastbound service beyond Whitechapel were a load of nonsense.
I have been going to QEH phlebotomy every six months since 2006 and have always
chosen to visit round about 4 p.m. I don’t remember ever having to wait very
long and many a time I have been in and out quickly enough to be on the very
same bus home that took me there; the turn around point being only a couple of
hundred yards further up the road.
The waiting room was almost full at 1 p.m. and a sign said
the likely waiting time was 20 minutes, soon amended to 30. OK, so my luck ran out, it happens, so why mention it here?
With 57 minutes gone and me only three calls to go, the whole department closed
down. Treatment rooms in darkness (except for Room 1 for priority
patients) staff coats on and they all walked out.
After 20 minutes the waiting throng began to get restless and a man knocked on the manager’s
door. A lady who had been in and out every few minutes but hid herself away the
moment a problem appeared opened the door and waved her arms around and those
surrounding her asked questions loudly. I didn’t clearly hear what
excuse she may have offered but another manager with a power complex walked around telling
non-priority people, for which it was by now standing
room only, to get off the green seats. They had to stand while the seats
remained empty but Rules is Rules for the intellectually challenged.
After 30 minutes of inaction two phlebotomists replaced the previous four and a
surly mute jabbed my arm. Usually they are the chattiest and friendliest of people.
On the way out I thought I would ask at the PALs kiosk what had gone wrong. Had
there been an emergency that had taken staff away or had some idiot manager
scheduled everyone for lunch at the same time? “Is there a way of finding out please?”
Hayley withdrew and I assumed she would make enquiries, but no she simply didn’t want to deal with questions.
The National Health Service really is as badly managed as you imagined.
Places Scrutiny meeting report tomorrow with any luck.