NHS ~ Failing to Treat Elderly with Care & Respect

John Allerton 1927 ~ 2009

For nearly two years I have been trying to pretend that the things that happened to my dad when he died were a tragic one-off but now I realise the sad truth. I can barely stand to hear the terrible things in the news about neglect of the elderly in hospitals, the removal of all their dignity and total disregard for their human rights.

My father died in hospital. He had dementia which had advanced very quickly and after a short time in a care home was admitted to hospital after a fall, just a fall. Within the first few days he had another fall but it was not noticed that he had broken his shoulder. When it was noticed, he was bandaged with a pillowcase because they "didn't have the right dressing".

There followed a catalogue of neglect bordering on abuse and he wasn't the only patient I saw left to their own devices, without drinks, without help eating, without any caring attention. My dad was nil by mouth and so slowly, over a month starved to death.
We made an official complaint to the hospital and were fobbed off with excuses which we accepted because at that time it was too painful to pursue it. I wish now that we had been stronger, louder and more determined.

My father was in the Royal Navy during the 2nd World War, so he survived Hitler. He had T.B. and diabetes which he survived. He survived the death of my mother from lung cancer, only to die scared, confused and neglected.

Sorry Daddy x

Our 'Point of Need'

I find myself writing this post from a café in the Norfolk and Norwich hospital where I've come with the tartist and her dad so that he can have an M.R.I. scan. He is sadly increasingly confused in his mind and shows all the signs of dementia. Some days are for him, better than others. Sitting with my bacon sarnie and cappuccino surrounded by people at their 'point of need', some in wheelchairs, some wearing eye patches, some hobbling along in plaster with the help of a crutch and a friend or family member, I have many thoughts running through my mind right now.

I'm very aware here of how fundamentally right and civilised the idea of our National Health Service is (despite its enormous cost). That you or I can be provided for in this way regardless of our financial means is something I feel all of us largely take for granted for most of our lives, until, like my father in law we reach our point of need. Then we realise it was just there all the time, benevolent, waiting to help, no invoice, no V.A.T. or commission to somebody further up the line!

I'm also very aware of how equally for granted I take my own mental state. How for most of the time daily life makes perfect sense and that so many simple daily tasks, having a shave, getting dressed, making a cup of tea, for example cause me no anxiety whatsoever. Sadly for John these basic tasks have at times proved such a challenge lately and therefore for his immediate family too. So here we are with the experts and their scanner to find out what John is suffering with and maybe find a way to proceed through the fog of a condition that will inevitably trouble so many of us at some point sooner or later in our lives.