Saving The NHS

A jaded story about a healthcare system run on faded glory

Chapter 1 – The Fall

Crazy? No! My dad is not crazy!

Just because nowadays he,

Is like a wolf howling too soon,

At the sun and not the moon.

He just lost faith in his favourite story,

Like if Christmas wasn’t Santa Clausey.

Haunted by the tragic loss,

Of his favourite dangling albatross.

He has a wicked secret he can’t confess,

Like an elephant sitting on his chest…

He no longer loves the NHS.

It started long ago when I was four,

As a fierce snowstorm roared,

The snow had snowed the whole world frozen,

So dad was home, and school was closed and,

I just dozed, and dozed, and dozed.

As I dreamed of sweet escape,

I was, captured, captivated, by a crimson caped,

Crusader on TV,

A superhero flying free!

I sat and sighed, “if only me”.

Dad was panicking on the phone,

Mum was stuck far from home!           

Left freezing on a train platform,

The trains had frozen in the storm.

It was then I knew to save my mum,

A superhero, I must become.

With one last sip from my sippy cup.

I perched on the window and jumped up!

And up into the air I soared,

But then I suddenly recalled the floor.

And saw,

It was approaching fast!

Alas, my powers did not last.

And down I crashed!

Into the snow,

A lovely, fluffy, frozen pillow,

Which broke my fall, rather poorly,

And broke my leg much more cruelly.

And as the snowstorm gathered force.

Dad came bursting through the door!

My daddy said, “there’s no need to stress”,

Because we have the NHS.

And as I hopped around in pain,

My daddy stopped to proudly explain.

“The NHS is everything,

It has every doctor, nurse, and sling,

Every plaster, potion, and pill,

To make you better when you’re ill.

No money down at the point of care,

It truly is beyond compare!

Healing broken legs to poorly tummies.

The NHS is a super mummy!”

Daddy called the ambulance,

But then he did a silly dance.

He waved his fists, his mouth got fizzy,

“They said don’t come, they’re way too busy.”

It seemed that this great NHS,

Was somehow in an awful mess.

And though the air was thick with snow,

As a superhero, I had to go.

And save it from being overrun.

Then fix my leg, then save my mum.

We jumped into the dad-mobile,

My daddy driving at the wheel. 

He stomped the pedal to the floor,

Which is where he also dropped his jaw,

At what he saw when we arrived,

Thousands queuing up outside.

Chapter 2 - Purgatory

We didn’t know what we should do,

And so we joined the thousands who,

Like my toys left on the floor,

Filled every space right to the door.

The winter sun rose on the right

With all the warmth of pale moonlight,

And cast them into clearer view,

As they all stood frozen in the queue.

The people waiting matched my toys,

There were superhero girls and boys,

“My leg hurts a lot”, I heard one yell.

I guess he couldn’t fly as well.

And like my toys I had at home,

Some couldn’t stand up on their own.

Some had broken bits and missing parts.

Some only worked in fits and starts.

A few had pieces added on.

For some their batteries had gone.

And like my toys when I get bored,

All of them were being ignored,

As the snowstorm roared and roared.

The sun sank slowly on the left,

And cast the thousands in silhouette,

And then gradually into the night,

Their hope fading with the light.

We saw a man who looked quite wise,

Based on his beard’s enormous size.

My daddy joked, “been waiting long?”

The man replied, “I don’t recall,

But there must be something wrong,

As when I joined my beard was small”.

My daddy laughed a nervous laugh,

And said the man was being daft,

“I don’t even know why I asked,

I’m sure the queue will soon move fast”.

The sun and moon kept changing places,

Over the freezing waiting faces.

Now, don’t ask me how much time had passed,

I had no real way of knowing,

But the queue shrank half as fast,

As the old man’s beard was growing!

After waiting for what seemed like years,

My daddy said, “turn on the tears”.

“The only way to get seen quickly,

Is to act much more sickly.”

To save the day before it’s late,

Superheroes cannot wait.

So, I cried and groaned and coughed and yelped,

My daddy yelled, “my boy needs help!”

Then picked me up with both his hands and,

With the breaking of the dawn,

And our hope not yet abandoned,

We ran right through the entrance doors.

Chapter 3 – Purgatory Part 2

The waiting room was hot and smelly,

Like being inside a whale’s belly.

A grim-faced nurse spoke stern and sombre,

“Excuse me sir, please take a number.

You’re ticket fourteen thousand and eight,

Which is currently a 4 day wait.”

“Very funny”, my Daddy cried,

“But we’ve just queued for days outside”.

Then like she was being tickled all over,

The nurse completely lost composure.

And laughed, “the line outside you pushed through,

Was just the queue to start the queue.”

So, in the real queue we waited,

My daddy getting more frustrated.

Until a scene he created,

With a passing nurse he’d isolated.

“I’m really sorry but come on mate it,

Isn’t right how long the wait is,

This isn’t what our taxes paid for,

Nor what our NHS is made for,

Queuing day and night, right through the front door.”

To which, the clearly pained physician,

Retorted with a strained contrition.

“I’m sorry sir, but please listen,

Helping you is our life’s mission.

But there’s nothing more that we can do,

We’re all just as stressed as you.

It is just a cold hard fact,

That the nation is too old & fat,

Which is why we always say,

Eat lots of fruit and vedge each day.

In order to keep the doctor away!”

Aha! So it was all those yucky greens,

Mum makes me eat before ice-cream.

Which were making the doctors stay away.

They had to go to save the day!

I started foraging for oranges,

I roamed the room for mushrooms.

I went on the beat, to seek beetroot.

And with a passion, pursued passion fruit.

With my superhero vision,

I scanned around for persimmon.

But all my searching came to nout,

No lettuce, carrots, nor brussel sprouts.

Forget florets of broccoli,

Apples, pears, kohlrabi,

The NHS was veggie free!

In fact, the only food that could be seen.

Was a chocolate and crisps filled vending machine.

Which my dad and I swiftly devoured,

To while away the drifting hours.

And then deep into our chairs we sunk,

Half asleep from eating junk.

And as I lay in a dreamy state,

I began to accept the endless wait.

Chapter 4 – Queue Within a Queue

I heard a TV on the wall,

Reporting on the fierce snowfall.

Which had made the roads all go beserk,

So the doctors couldn’t get to work.

I asked my brain for another plan,

To save the NHS again.

And remembered back when I was three,

To leave your house was real naughty.

You weren’t allowed outside unless,

You clapped to save the NHS.

So I limped up on my chair and clapped,

And everyone seemed impressed by that.

But the queue it seemed to just grow longer.

So there was but one thing to do,

Clap much stronger!

I clapped so hard I hurt my wrist.

Ah! Another injury to the list.

A nurse said, “if you’re here for something new,

You must go back to the start of the queue”.

As my dad began to curse,

He was beckoned by a saintly nurse.

“Our doctors are all running late,

And so to help reduce the wait,

Us nurses are treating easy things,

That just need a plaster cast or sling.”

My dad told all about my leg,

Like a verbal volcano erupting,

But the nurse just nodded her vacant head,

Before rudely interrupting.

“Patient name, and age please,

Does he have any allergies?

Has he fainted recently?

Is he unconscious, or drowsy?

Can he please step on these scales?

Can you tell me his full health details?

Please confirm his vaccinations.

Is he having palpitations?”

“His leg’s just broke” my daddy gasped,

So we just need a plaster cast.

And then we can go home at last.

But the nurse just nodded her vacant head,

Checked her watch and then just said,

“I understand you’re in distress,

But we must follow a strict process.

To have no plan would be far, far worse.

Now please wait for the orthopaedic nurse.”

We waited in a mini queue,

And soon arrived nurse number 2.

My dad this time patiently explained,

Until nurse 2 intruded, “patient’s name!”

“Does he have any allergies?

Has he fainted recently?

Is he unconscious, or drowsy?

Can he please step on these scales?

Provide me with his full health details.”

“De je vu, nurse number 2!

Are you sure that you are you?

I told all this to nurse number 1,

He just needs a cast, and then we’re gone.”

But the nurse just nodded her vacant head,

“Wait for my colleague” is all she said.

It seemed all we could dream or do,

Was just to queue within a queue.

So we waited in mini queue 2 to see,

Nodding Nurse number 3.

The nurse arrived after some duration,

My Dad spoke, fraught with trepidation,

But this nurse sought no information.

“Your son’s file I have just read,

I understand he’s hurt his head.”

“No, it’s the leg”, my daddy said,

“Just a plaster cast, and then rest in bed!”

To which nurse 3 simply groaned,

“Sorry, I don’t treat children’s bones.

You’ll have to wait until he’s fully grown.

Or for the doctor to get to work,

Whichever one of these comes first.”

We turned away from nurse number 3,

Feeling rather lost at sea.

Drifting in a deep despair,

My Daddy muttering in his chair,

“Nurses, nurses everywhere,

My patience on the brink,

Nurses, nurses everywhere,

And not one who can think!”

Chapter 5 – The PAC Man Cometh

My daddy said “this isn’t fair,

At least get my boy a wheelchair”.

But a nurse replied, “Sir that’s quite an investment!

And it’s a six month wait for a wheelchair assessment.”

As my daddy shouted a funny name,

I thought there must be a bad guy to blame.

So, I snuck away from my daddy,

And went on the hunt for this hidden baddie.

As I embarked upon my plan,

I was stopped by a grey-suited man.

He had a rainbow coloured, heart shape crest,

That said, “I ❤️ the NHS”,

Which he wore upon his sleeve.

He said, “nice to meet you, call me Steve”.

“I’m a senior Manager,

And saw you clapping on your chair,

And I know the bad guy that you’re after,

He’s the Private American Health Contractor,

The PAC Man”.

“The PAC man’s like an evil lizard,

All through the NHS he slithers,

And casts an evil magic spell,

That stops us all from getting well.

In a slippery tongue called leagalease,

He makes the whole hospital freeze.”

And he doesn’t say ‘bless you’ when you sneeze.

Instead, he gives the NHS an expensive bill,

For his special anti-sneezing pill,

But he made his pill taste way too yummy.

Which is how he munches all our money,

To feed his greedy growing tummy.

And the more he eats, the hungrier he gets,

And he will soon eat up the whole NHS!”

Now I knew my next hero’s jaunt,

Was to find the PAC man’s secret haunt.

If I could return our stolen hoard,

Then the NHS would be restored.

Like the greedy dragons of old,

I bet the PAC man kept his gold,

Beneath an evil volcano,

In a deep dark cave.

Where no man ever dared go,

No matter how brave.

But Steve said, “the real hiding place,

Is somewhere no man alive can trace,

Safe from the tax man’s grabbing hands,

A financial fort called Switzerland.

The only true way to attack him,

Is to stop the Tory tribe who back him.”

Chapter 6 – The Song of Steve

Perhaps to give him chance to breathe,

Steve granted me a short reprieve,

But just as I had turned to leave,

Onwards ranted rainbow Steve.

“Now let me tell you about the Tories.

Whose hearts are cold, whose sports are gory,

They think hunting foxes gives them glory.

They call the toilet, ‘the lavatory’.

And they don’t care a lick for the homeless,

They say, ‘they’d be rich quick, if they’d only moan less’.

And they worship a witch called Margaret Thatcher.

An icy hearted, school milk snatcher.

Who with the evil wizard Ronald Regan,

Made the deadly PAC man plague in,

A blizzard of deregulation,

Which swept across this once great nation.

Promising sweet salvation,

From inflation,

From stagnation,

But only if you’re a corporation.

And adding to the lies they’ve spoken,

They said, ‘all boats rise in a rising ocean’,

But all that rose was the price of boats,

And the rest of us just failed to float.

And the only thing that we can cling to,

The only thing that we can sing too,

The only thing that we have left,

Is our dear old NHS.

And deep inside their cold blue hearts,

The Tories would love to rip apart,

Our NHS, bit-by-bit,

Just because they pay a lot for it.”

I told Steve, “That can’t be true,

Tories are people, like me and you.

And when a Tory’s illness starts,

It would surely melt their hearts.

To have to do what we all do,

And endure and endless queue.”

Steve just rolled his eyes and laughed.

As if the words I spoke we’re daft.

“I’m sorry but you’re quite mistaken,

The Tories hearts would not be shaken.

Because the Tories, when they get ill,

Go to the private hospital on the hill.

The hospital on the hill is quite a sight,

No queues that last all day and night,

The only people who have to wait,

Are the waiters bringing fancy plates,

Of yummy food, like a restaurant,

And you never hear the words ‘we can’t’.

And if by chance, you have to stay,

It’s even better than a holiday.

The staff there all get paid a lot,

Which is why they see you on the dot.”

“Whereas at the NHS hospital,

The staff only get paid a little.

But they are the real superheroes,

Unlike pretend ones, where you know,

That the only people who will die,

Are just all the pretend bad guys,

And not the real people who,

Got stuck waiting in a queue.

At the private hospital there’s no such sorrow,

And I got a job there, starting tomorrow!”

I was puzzled by what Steve had said,

But my plan was now clear in my head.

Although my leg was broken and brittle,

I had to go to the private hospital,

And fight the Tories to the death,

So, I could save the NHS.

Chapter 7 - Revelations

I hopped back to dad in a hurry,

And told him there’s no need to worry,

My broken leg, I can survive it,

At a hospital that is private.

My Daddy said, “sure, I’d love to go,

But it costs more than the real Lego.

I simply can’t afford the price,

I’ve paid for the NHS, I can’t pay twice.

And even if I could,

I’m not sure that I would,

The NHS is sacred,

The NHS is good.

To leave would be a grave miscarriage,

Like leaving my unhappy marriage.

Just like your leg we need to fix it.

Which is why I voted Brexit.”

Then his eyes became hypnotic,

His body tense, his voice robotic.

And as he rose from his chair,

He said these words, which filled the air.

“If the NHS’s end begins,

Like Jesus, it dies for our sins.

So we will suffer for our lord Bevan,

Who art our father,

Who art in heaven.”

It was then I saw the real fault,

The NHS is some strange cult,

To save it there is no solution,

No reform or revolution.

There is no hope, or prayer, or trick,

Just hope and pray you don’t get sick.

But then my dad was shaken from his spell,

By a completely unforeseen bombshell!

He could barely keep his heartbeat steady,

When a nurse said, “Now the doctor’s ready,

Sorry for the slight delay,

Please follow me right this way”.

Chapter 8 – New Hope

The nurse led us to the doctor’s room,

Whilst my Daddy’s heart went “boom, boom, boom”.

And grinning like it was Christmas day,

He turned around to me to say,

“The NHS is far from perfect,

But now you’ll see, the wait was worth it”.

The doctor’s room had a bed and a nurse in,

And dinosaur bones shaped like a person.

The doctor himself had a saintly presence,

And a stately manner from the days of yore.

He thanked us kindly for our patience,

And joked, “what can I do you for?”.

He carefully checked my broken leg,

Scratched his head, but then just said.

“Get some Calpol from the nurse,

And come back if it gets much worse.”

My Daddy choked, “Please don’t joke!

My poor boy’s leg is clearly broke”.

To which the doctor simply hissed,

“Ok if you must insist,

I’ll refer you to a specialist.

Let me check my file here,

First appointment is,

This time next year.”

Well, something deep inside my daddy broke.

To hear the words the doctor spoke.

He fell down to his knees to beg,

Barely raising up his head,

And clutching at the doctor’s arm,

Pleaded, “please, kind sir, speak no harm!”

I dragged my daddy to the door,

With his nails clawing at the floor,

Rambling like a man possessed,

Chanting madly in distress.

“Please Doctor put my mind at rest,

Take my heart straight from my chest,

I bequeath it to the NHS

The NHS that I adore,

Take all I have, and 10 times more,

Take my soul, take my spirit,

Just don’t make us wait another minute.

I’ll ask and ask and ask again,

How long must we wait in vain?

Tell me!

Tell me!

I implore!”

Quoth the doctor… “evermore”.

Chapter 9 - Rebirth

Well, we fell back in a bleak despondence,

At the doctor’s correspondence.

I told my daddy, “let’s just go,

I‘m not a real superhero.

I can’t fly, or save the NHS,

And I’ve only got one leg.

Which is why I’ve now decided,

That instead I will become a pirate!”

I tied my leg to a wooden broom,

And we walked back to the waiting room,

And saw nothing but a sea of gloom.

The atmosphere was dark and dank,

I thought I ought to walk the plank.

We saw each waiting face grow sadder,

The NHS is all snakes, no ladders.

So we wound back down the snaking queue,

To solemn sounds of “burr”, “ow”, “achoo”.

I heard the huddled masses coughing,

I saw the wise man ask for a coffin.

But then way off, deep in the far dark,

Right where my dad had left the car parked.

I saw a white note shining bright,

Like a dove in the pale moonlight.

Yes, the one thing the NHS had done on time,

Was to give my dad a parking fine.

My dad screamed at the universe,

Then laughed, “I guess things can’t get worse”,

But then turned whiter than a seasick swan…

“We forgot to pick up mum!”