This time last week I was back at my local NHS hospital waiting to go into theatre for another general anisthetic and what, I hope, will be my last encounter with the NHS for a while. At least the surgical branch that is; I shall still have to battle with the local doctor’s end for the foreseeable future.
One week on I can report what seems like a complete success. For the first time in a year I can hear properly and am no longer suffering from the disorienation and balance problems that one good ear and one useless one had been causing. Listening to music on my headphones has been restored to the pleasure that it once was, and visits to supermarkets and similar places of high ambient noise are no longer such an aural trial.
I have a great empathy with those who have these problems on a permanent basis, but am very glad that, for me, I’m back to what represents normal for a man of 58.
My encounters with the NHS at this level have been good. Only the ridiculous issue of the hospital and my doctor not being able to see the same information even though they are part of the same local body has clouded things (it has meant that I have had to go through the same tests twice on several occasions which is a stupid waste). Poor process aside, as for the people that I have had to deal with, I cannot fault them. They are a fine crew and but, now that they have restored me to my former glory, and therefore for purely selfish reasons, I do hope that I have seen the last of them for some time to come.
The Voice of the Bloke at the Back 