I would have to be at death's door before I would risk going to hospital again'

[Guest guest]

Most doctors do not wash their hands either, while making

hospital rounds going from one patient to another. The least important pooint in

the whole hospitalization process is whether you get well or not. F.

 

http://www.guardian.co.uk/medicine/story/0,11381,1254985,00.html

 

 

I would have to be at death's door before I would risk

going to hospital again'

 

Claire Rayner on catching MRSA - and the appalling

hygiene on today's wards

 

Tuesday July 6, 2004

The Guardian

 

Three years ago, I was recovering from my fourth knee

operation in a leading orthopaedic hospital when the

surgeon leaned over to me and whispered: " You've got

MRSA. " I was absolutely terrified. I felt like a

leper. I was worried that people would treat me like a

pariah.

 

I knew that MRSA was a killer, its victims usually the

old and frail. I didn't think I would die of it but it

is a bugger to get rid of. There is only one

antibiotic that is effective, and they gave it to me.

 

It left me feeling lousy. Some days later, I realised

that there was a notice on the door of my room which

said: " Take care, MRSA. " For three or four weeks, they

watched me like a hawk. But I was shocked to see that

the nurses still didn't wash their hands after they

had looked after me. And the dirt around the hospital

was horrifying.

 

The dust in the corner of the ward just got worse and

worse. It was disgusting. Bedpans were left at the

side of the bed for God knows how long. Nobody tidied

up. It was a depressing and dirty place with things

just piling up on chairs. When my husband used to come

and visit me, he would tidy up, because he knew how

much it upset me. There was a piece of a dressing on

the floor which I had noticed when I was admitted. It

was still there when I was discharged. The food was

served by catering staff, instead of nurses, and we

barely got time to eat it before the tray was taken

away. I lost 100lbs following my illness and have

dropped four dress sizes. Every cloud has a silver

lining.

 

The government has tried to save money by telling

hospitals to contract out cleaning, instead of having

devoted ward cleaners and orderlies who take a pride

in their job. Now we have got people who are being

paid much less and often they can't speak a word of

English, which doesn't help.

 

So last year, when I was recovering from being in

intensive care after suffering serious complications

in surgery, I dug into my savings and used agencies

for nursing at home, rather than stay in hospital. It

cost £30,000 but I thought it was worth it to avoid

the risk of MRSA.

 

Then, a fortnight ago, my husband Des, who is 75, fell

over and gashed his head. He had a slit above his eye

and he was bleeding. He looked absolutely shattered,

but he had not been knocked out and it was quite clear

he was not concussed. I looked at both his eyes and

the pupils were even - so my carer, Jenny, and I (both

experienced nurses) decided to look after him at home

until he saw the GP on Monday. We had called the minor

accident unit but they had waits of more than an hour

and we didn't want to spend six hours in A & E. Des is a

lovely man - but fragile - and I didn't want to expose

him to the risk of infection. It is a depressing

situation, but hospitals are so dirty, staff are

failing to wash their hands and the risk of MRSA is

too great.

 

In my day as a nurse in the 1950s, if a patient got a

cross-infection then all hell would break loose. The

nurse would get a real tongue-lashing. As a result, we

would never get cross-infections because we were all

so terrified of what matron would do to us if we did.

We were scrupulously clean. We would always wash our

hands and then we would use an antiseptic after we had

washed them. If we touched a dressing that was dirty,

then we would wash our hands again. We called it the

aseptic technique.

 

During our preliminary training, which lasted three

months, the first thing our tutor did was to give us

all a cup to wash. I thought - " Is that what we are

here for? " - and I wasn't really taken with it. But we

all dutifully washed the cups, then she went through

them all, checking. She had deliberately put some muck

on the handle of the cups, hidden between the joint of

the handle and the cup, which we all missed. She told

us: " If you can't wash a cup properly, you are not fit

to work in a hospital. "

 

I learned rapidly about the importance of cleanliness.

We always had clean aprons and clean clothes. When I

used to work in hospitals, they had a fascinating

smell. They smelt very strongly of Jeyes Fluid - a

very powerful cleaner. Then it was carbolic and floor

polish. They also used some special stuff to clean the

walls, which had its own smell.

 

It felt safe because of all the old rituals of the

nurses and the people in charge of them. Nowadays

there is not the same hierarchy and everyone calls

each other by their first names. There is a time for

equality, but then there's also a time for a strong

hierarchy. Our nursing hierarchy, which was introduced

by Florence Nightingale, was based on the British

Army. When she started training nurses, it was along

military lines. Although everyone smoked, we were told

not to smoke within an hour of coming on duty and

alcohol was absolutely forbidden.

 

It sounds like the Middle Ages, but as a patient it

doesn't help you if the nurse has not used a deodorant

- it makes you feel really ill. It was absolutely a

rule that we must wear deodorant. We were apprentices

- we did our work and then we went off to our academic

lectures. Now there are far more untrained healthcare

assistants. Many have NVQs, but most of them have

nothing.

 

In the past few years, I've spent more time in

hospitals than I care to remember. After what I've

seen, I would have to be seriously ill, in fact at

death's door, before I would go and stay in another.

 

· Claire Rayner, who is president of the Patients'

Association, was talking to Helen Carter.

 

 

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