‘You can check out any time you want,
But you can never leave.’
(“Hotel California”, The Eagles.)
Perhaps the biggest bore when spending time in hospital is waiting for one’s Discharge Letter, a document drafted by a doctor outlining any updated diagnosis and any changes of medication. This has to be accompanied by a bright green bag containing existing and new drugs to take home. Waiting for this can take hours; on one occasion, despite being told I would be going home the next day, I was still waiting sitting on my bed the following evening. This all seems odd in view of the shortage of beds in the NHS.
Despite all this, Carolyn and I have found the discharge letters very important, as they summarise often hurried conversations that were full of useful information. We also receive, most of the time, copies of letters from consultants and registrars to our GP; these follow up our visits to the Lymphoma Clinic and help us to make sense of what has been said. Their quality varies considerably. In one, I mysteriously changed gender half-way through! Another, from a consultant we have seen only once, was not only long and detailed but also written in the most immaculate English. We are told by a doctor neighbour that much of this correspondence within the NHS is recorded by doctors here but actually typed in Bangladesh!
