The Corridor: What It's Like to Need a Doctor in Britain Now
A letter from the waiting room
I want to tell you about what it's like to need a doctor in Britain now. I'm 67. I've lived here my whole life. Last month, I needed one twice.
I occasionally need to call a doctor. I like to keep myself active, but I am a type 2 diabetic, which is common in the UK, and as you get older you do need the support of healthcare professionals, who do a fantastic job under difficult conditions.
Last month I needed to see my GP. For forty years, I called the surgery and asked for an appointment. Last month, I was told to fill out a form. Someone I have never met would read it and decide if my problem warranted a conversation. Or I could call 111, which lets you speak to someone, although there is usually a long wait, depending on the time of day.
In another instance I had to attend A&E. You are triaged quite quickly — I was. Then I had to wait about eight hours to see a doctor. The waiting room and corridors were completely full. Some people were on trolleys. To be fair, ECGs and blood tests came quickly. The delay was waiting for a doctor to read them.
The staff work damned hard in very difficult circumstances. I have seen them abused. I want to be clear: this is not their fault.
I was admitted around 8pm. By midnight, the hospital had gone quiet. I started talking to a man on a trolley next to me. He had drips and tubes everywhere — up his nose, in his arms. He told me he had cancer, and had been waiting twelve hours in a corridor for a bed.
I waited eight hours. NHS England's own data shows that last year, 40% of A&E patients waited more than four hours. The target is 95%. My wait was not unusual. It was the new normal.
I don't know whether this is mismanagement, arithmetic, or something more deliberate. What I know is the corridor. And what I know is that when a public system becomes this hard to use, and a private alternative exists, people with means will start to choose the alternative. I am one of those people. And I am wondering whether that was always the plan, or whether nobody in charge cares enough to stop it.
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