It was the romantic poet, author
and politician, Victor Hugo (of the Hunchback of Notre-Dame and Les Misérables
fame) who said ‘Dreaming is happiness. Waiting is life’. This past week
I have done a bit of both. The dreaming came courtesy of the antivirals I have
been taking for my bout of shingles. The dreams were really weird. It felt like
I was hallucinating and doing so on an endless loop. Very strange and disturbing.
I woke up not rested at all, and the debilitating fatigue that followed was incredibly
frustrating.
The shingle blisters have gone, leaving
red and very inflamed skin patches behind. However, the nerve pain is still there
and ever present. I know the shingles will eventually pass; I have just to be
patient and wait for it to do so. I also have to be patient while I wait for my
CT Scan results. I agreed to be part of an NHS lung cancer screening programme.
This involved a telephone assessment, and yesterday, a CT scan.
Additionally, there are over 3000
patients each day who are receiving care in corridors and other ‘inappropriate’
settings. Often patients have little privacy, and such settings can be obtrusively
noisy. Not a great environment for patients to flourish in. The use of such
settings reflects the lack of beds for those assessed in A&E departments as
requiring further in-patient care. So, until a bed becomes available, they have to wait
in corridors.
Both type of waits are not new phenomena.
There was a growing waiting list problem before Covid 19, and the pandemic just
exasperated the capacity issues secondary care services were increasingly facing. The NHS as a
whole has been struggling to fully recover. Which brings me to Dave. On our
recent Grand Lancaster Canal Adventure, we were forced to wait a day for canal
services to open in order to buy some much needed diesel.
We had moored up at Galgate
Marina. The marina boasts a nearby pub which we had frequented on our outward journey. We
were looking forward to another good meal. Unfortunately, we arrived 5 minutes
after the kitchen had closed for the evening. Sitting with a compensatory glass
of wine and a G&T we fell into conversation with a chap at the next table
called Dave. He had a magnificent handlebar moustache and a great story to
tell.
Dave lived on his canal boat, but
worked across the Lake District cleaning windows. He was very content with his
life and was looking forward to his girlfriend finally joining him to share a
life afloat together. He had also been a nurse. A very skilled nurse working in
both intensive care and theatres. The stress of nursing through Covid had
proved too much for him and his mental health began to deteriorate. He left the NHS soon after the pandemic started to
settle. I didn’t disclose that I had also been a nurse, it was his story. I did
thank him for his service and wished him well. Sad as his departure from the
NHS might be, I admired him for not simply waiting for things to change for him,
but to get out there and make things happen. He had long dreamed of living on a narrow boat, and leaving the NHS allowed him to do so. Dave described his life as being calmer and more settled these days. He was content. Listening to Dave's story reminded me we have but
one life, so don't waste time waiting, get out there and live it.

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