I am curious to know whether anyone else has transferred to a different hospital within the UK whilst undergoing cancer treatment, and whether they have been taken aback by the difference in the treatment environments; whether indeed they think that it might affect our prospects for a successful treatement.
For the record, I have Stage IV incurable breast cancer with bone metastases. Luckily (ha ha) I currently have no pain or other symptoms. I'm now receiving Herceptin for "life" which is a piece of cake after chemo. Hooray. So every 3 weeks I pop along to my nice northern Scottish hospital, sit for a couple of hours with a needle in my hand and job done...everyone sneers at this hopsital because it's remote and tiny, but now that I have seen the opposition, I shall NEVER complain about it again.
Now that my chemo horrors are over for the time being and the hair is regrowing, I was offered a free flat in central London AND a job for a couple of months. I thought perhaps the Universe was trying to tell me something, and I took advantage of both offers. I was curious to see whether I could reinsert myself into the world of work rather than doss around on benefits for the rest of my allocated life.
It was very simple for me to get transferred to, shall we say, an extremely prestigious Cancer Hospital in London. Now, in Scotland, I march straight into the suite after the dreaded weighing, At prestigious cancer hospital I had to wait for over an hour before being called in, despite having had a consultaiton and weighing session 4 days previously where my scripts were all calculated and I was told, would be prepared in advance of my treatment session. Well, I have enough experience to know that waiting around is just a tedious extra burden on the likes of us. But...
...I am no domestic goddess or cleanliness freak, but was absolutely APPALLED by the conditions! There was dust everywhere, the wooden floor had clearly had a filthy mop dragged over it, the toilets were really not clean, and I know it was generally "dirty" because it brought my eczema on (an internal dirtometer, that one, useful for when you are visiting sanctimonious people who criticise the state of other people's houses!) The whole place reminded me of the ghastly transit lounge in Miami Airport if anyone's had THAT unfortunate experience!
The treatment suite is 5 times the size of my little provincial hospital's, but because of horrendous space planning only accommodates the same number of chairs - which are horrid uncomfortable leather efforts from which you have to peel your body rheumatically and squeakily when you extricate yourself to leave ("MRSA on a plate!" commented the lady in the chair next to me...) There are no tables, so when, like most people, I brought in my own food correctly expecting the usual stale sandwiches clearly filched from a Tesco's dumping ground, I was told to "put it on the floor". NIce! I did mention that if I won the lottery I'd get them a job lot of wooden side tables for a fiver each from Ikea at least.
And they have a dedicated nurse just to insert the bloody cannula! That seems to be all she does! How on earth is that cost/resource effective?? When she's taken away the plastic beaker and wrapped your hand unnecessarily in yards of swaddling, you are left hanging - in my case for another hour - before a chemo nurse comes over to hook you up to the drip. I was practically pleading to be allowed just to do it myself! Not even to mention the fact that we all, including elderly, distressed people, are forced to sign a heap of bafflingly-worded forms confirming we are receiving the correct drugs, presumably to stave off litigation in the event of a cock up in the Pharmacy. Which I think is cynical at best.
The whole hideous experience took 5 hours from start to finish, so forget about a working day. Whereas in Chemo Sutite Heaven in Scotland you are in and out within 2.5 hours.
Now, re-reading this, I possibly sound like a snooty OCD freak or ungrateful, which I most certainly am not - the nurses are professional and cheerful, and of course I am lucky, lucky, lucky to live in a country where at least I get this expensive and pioneering treatment. I have written this really out of utter shock at how horrible the whole environment is. It made me wonder whether, had I been treated down here from the outset, I could have borne actually showing up for chemo or might I just have thought it wasn't worth it? The whole place seems configured to heap misery upon misery
Slate me if you will, but I'm honestly still reeling from the shock of how vastly different the experience of the same treatment can be from place to place. Any comments would be interesting.
