A beginner's guide to hospital life

As a long-serving inmate, I feel supremely qualified to offer this definitive guide to life in a modern English hospital. Keep it to hand, as - should you ever have the misfortune to endure a prolonged stay at a NHS institution - the advice contained within could make the difference between bloody purgatory and mere misery.

1 Doctors don't wear white coats. In fact, most of them don't wear anything that most of us would deem suitable as workday attire. If you see someone who looks like he's in his gardening clothes, he's likely to be an eminent surgeon.

2 Hospital life is build around routine. As you can imagine, it's an intensely boring existence, with the "high points" rarely rising above the mundane. Visiting time is obviously the best bit, but otherwise it's a matter of looking forward to the thrice-daily medication rounds. Should the drug-fairy be late, there is the prospect of mutiny in the ward, as outraged withrawal-suffering patients show their discontent. I personally experienced this affront recently, when the night-time trolley - normally dispensing its wonders by 9.00pm, did not arrive until almost 10.30pm. By this time, I had composed a letter of complaint to my MP.

3 As a patient, you are at the mercy of the medical profession, and particularly the nurses. If you want them to be nice to you, I strongly recommend that you are pre-emptively nice to them. Catherine has employed the blatant ploy of regularly bringing in home-made cookies for the staff, which may not necessarily have ensured preferential treatment, but I certainly have no complaints. Conversely, I don't recommend the tactic employed by the man in the bed next to mine, whose method of asking for a bed pan is to shout at the top of his voice, "Nurse! Want s**t!"

4 Although the patient is provided with a device for calling for assistance, this is unlikely to be met with an immediate response. Similarly, trying to catch the nurse's eye is something of a battle of wills, as they are past masters of avoiding eye contact. As I'm lumbered with a tracheostomy - and therefore unable to speak, I can't say whether just shouting "Nurse!" (see 3 above) is any more effective, but I suspect not. I think there is a very good reason for all this, and it's not down to any lethargy of the part of the nurses. For the most part, I think it's because they are acutely aware of the needs and priorities of patients at any given time, and if they are ignoring my requests to cut my toe-nails, it's probably because the man in bed 5 suffering from an angina attack is perceived to be of greater importance.

5 A source of some sadness - for me, at least - is that there is nothing remotely "sexy" about nurses' uniforms. Some of you will recall that in my youth I enjoyed some romantic liaisons with representatives of this noble profession, and my rose-tinted recollections are of starched, curve-emphasising dresses and dark stockings. Today, it's mostly trousers and tunics of indeterminate shape; functional, I'm sure, but not in the least bit flattering. Not that I'm interested in this sort of thing, of course.

6 The hospital is possibly the most ethnically diverse working place I've observed, from those performing the most menial tasks, to the most respected specialists. I know that the NHS has always depended heavily upon the immigrant community, but I've been surprised by the variety of nationalities represented: a veritable United Nations. I'm not just saying this to appear politically correct, but I do wonder how the UK's public services would function with the sort of immigration restrictions that some people promote.

7 I don't know why it should be the case, but I can't get over a feeling of amusement at the ready availability of all sorts of drugs, which would be severely frowned upon "on the outside". You have pain? We can offer relief. Can't sleep? Here's a seditive. Feeling anxious? Here's something to ease the worry. Depressed? Have a happy pill. Clearly, medication is a vital part of the overall treatment, but it has come as a bit of surprise that the doctors are prepared to prescibe with such apparent alacrity. In normal life, alcohol is my drug of choice, and I'm reluctant to seek chemical relief for most ailments - with the obvious exception of paracetamol for the occasional hangover. I'm assured that I'm not going to develop any long-term dependency, so I suppose the best thing is just to accept the meds with gratitude, and try not to think how much more unbearable this whole thing would have been without them.

8 Just like any other workplace, the staff have their miscellaneous gripes about everything that's wrong, including petty rules, faulty equipment, and particularly the faceless bureaucrats who put unnecessary obstacles in their way to prevent them doing their jobs effectively. I gather that Procurement are the chief culprits, by failing to get the right goods to the right place at the right time. No comment.

Moving on, it occurs to me that I haven't given you an update on my own progess of late, so I'm pleased to report that everything's going pretty well. Following the aborted operation on Monday, I've been feeling physically well, and continue to get stronger. The flap seems to be flourishing, and although I've still got this blasted tracheostomy, I've graduated (again) to the speaking tube, which allows me to shout incoherent, monosylabbic nonsense. Anyone who's seen me on a heavy Saturday night will know what it's like.
With any luck. I'll be able to discard the tracheostomy entirely over the next few days, and the target is to return home some time next week, prior to commencing radiotherapy.
Anyway, as I am now, in theory at least, able to speak, today's songs are about talking:-

1 Talk to me - Southside Johnny and The Asbury Jukes
2 Everybodys' talkin' - Nilsson (purists may point out that the original was by Fred Neill)
3 Silent all these years - Tori Amos
4 You took the words right out of my mouth - Meatloaf
5 Say something - James
6 Tell it like it is - Aaron Neville
7 When we sing together - Victorial Williams and Mark Olsen
8 Yakety yak - The Coasters
9 Only tongue can tell - The Trashcan Sinatras
10 I had a talk with my man - Mitty Collier

Stay patient, patients!
RP