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I took Laura to the hospital today for her nose operation - we set off calm and positive. Admission to the General Hospital was like a circus. We arrive at Ward 366. The Sister sends us down to reception to get a blue file. The reception sends us to casualty. Casualty sends us back to reception. Reception sends us back to casualty. Casualty sends us to casualty reception. Aha! Yes, they do admissions. Take a number. Take and seat. And wait!! We wait for more than half an hour. We see someone who has to phone Ward 366 to find out what we’re doing here… and, finally... he gives us a blue file to go back to Ward 366.

The attitude of this hospital includes:
“Take a seat. You look messy standing up.”
“Don’t ask questions. You’re just the patient.”
“Let’s just get you in and out of here as quick as possible.”

Before I left, I reminded the Sister that what my mother needed most was reassurance, hope and positive feelings.

Later that night, Laura phoned me from the hospital, frantic. She told me that she asked the Sister for reassurance about the operation and was told, “It’s purely functional. You won’t get a Greta Garbo nose.” Laura thought this meant they don’t care at all about how it will look and she will be made to feel every uglier.

When I arrived, I asked the Sister, “How about a little tact and reassurance?”

“That’s not my job,” she said, and walked off.