MY NHS EXPERIENCE

My own experience of the NHS has been a very good one, beyond my wildest expectations in fact. It almost feels to me as if a red carpet was put down to receive us from the moment we landed back in the UK. I couldn’t possibly have asked for better compassion, understanding, care and treatment during the four and half years I’ve been under its care with this disease. I’ve paid sufficient dues in my working life to qualify for the full state pension when I’m 65, so although I feel my treatment within the NHS has been earned, I still can’t help but feel pathetically grateful for it.

St Luke’s surgery in Stroud received me in to their care with open arms, and my GP Mike Gould turned out to be a light bulb in the middle of my darkness, he really helped me understand what was happening inside my body, and treated me for everything that fell outside the remit of the liver team at Gloucester Hospital who were the primary carers for my Hepatitis C condition. Over in Gloucester I was at the hospital on virtually a weekly basis as the doctors battled to identify the amount of damage Hepatitis C had done to my body. My liver was clearly not in good shape, there had been some kidney damage and the linings of my oesophagus, stomach and intestines were affected too.

Over the course of the next 5 months (April – Sept 2010) I underwent regular blood tests, Ultra-sounds, MRI scans, CAT scans, Biopsies, Gastroscopies, ECG tests (heart scans) and medication adjustments. These tests eventually gave the doctors a clear enough picture to decide on a course of treatment. This watershed in analysis notwithstanding one anomaly in my results the doctors couldn’t fathom, but that anomaly suggested I had a tumour. None of the tests showed where the bleeder was hiding and nothing else they tried could coax the little bastard into popping its head over the parapets to identify its position. Sneaky, sneaky, just like the virus itself, although to be fair, that sneakiness is basically the job of a virus and you therefore can’t blame it for doing its job!

So tumour or not, by early September a course of treatment was finally prescribed and I was called to the hospital on Sept 21st to ‘begin the journey to cure and recovery’. But by this stage I had become very weak and it was an effort to get out of bed, even for hospital visits. I was completely unable to drive; experiencing extreme tiredness, I had no appetite, suffering bad headaches and losing weight.

Apart from that everything was ‘A’ OK.