Okay, I know NHS workers don't get exactly paid football players' wages but we were in Homerton Hospital, East London, this morning with a suspected broken rib and there must have been about six other patients in the place. There was a middle-aged lady who'd been beaten up by her pimp and was giving a big crack-addled speech about what happenened to her in a wailing broken English / Albanian drawl. Her face looked like somebody had battered it with a hot iron.
Anyhoo...it took about two hours for me and my wife to get any pain killers for her suspected broken rib. She was crying in agony but the nurses were like: “Whatevs! We’re busy here.”
Excuse me? There were about 10-15 staff on duty at the time and they were all just hanging out on the main decks and gossiping about their favourite TV shows.
I know, working at an Accident & Emergency ward is no fun and in the past I’ve had some five star treatment. But while my partner was screaming in pain, the main desk of nurses (no shit) were gathered around DRINKING CHAMPAGNE and checking out the wedding album of one of their colleagues.
While they were chortling, joking and quaffing away the booze from their plastic cups there was a pregnant Nigerian woman in the bed across from us who had six broken ribs so it made our sitch seem not so Gnarling Black Label. Still though, drinking champagne at the A&E ward seems a little rich no?