Top doctor: My mum would be treated much better in Africa

IWAS born just two weeks after the NHS itself. In the backstreets of a Northern steel town, healthcare funded by taxation was a precious commodity. The brand-new NHS was the envy of the world. Our kindly GP would come out at all hours.

But healthcare was much cheaper then. There were vastly fewer drugs, no pacemakers or artificial joints, and no heart surgery.

Fast-forward 69 years. I have been a heart surgeon for more than half of this time and have operated on more than 10,000 patients. But now, having retired, I am on the other side of the fence – and I see a service at breaking point.

I have experienced it, too. One Saturday morning, my elderly mother with dementia and Parkinson’s, develops pneumonia. Realising she will not survive the day, I wish her to be made comfortable at home. Her geriatric specialist agrees and advises that I should call a GP, but none of her practice GPs cover weekends.

I can only get help through the 111 non-emergency line, where the only way forward is a questionnaire. After a protracted argument I am referred up the chain and begin the process over again. And then for a third time.

My mother becomes increasingly distressed and I am getting nowhere. Time passes. Eventually, perhaps because I am a stroppy surgeon, they agree to inform an agency GP who is covering a huge region, and several hours later a GP arrives as I cradle my dead mother’s head in my hands. She passed away, gasping for breath, five minutes before. This is modern rural healthcare.

Weeks later, my daughter calls, desperately anxious about her baby who has been vomiting for 36 hours. The NHS edict to seek advice from a pharmacy has not helped. Wisely, the pharmacist was unwilling to make a judgment about a sick baby, now floppy with dehydration. My daughter has no more luck with the 111 service. What do I think?

Out of working hours she can only go to A&E. I call ahead to the paediatric emergency unit at Addenbrooke’s in Cambridge, where they receive excellent care. But it is access to care that is vital. Jumping through hoops? Receiving critical medical advice from call minders, pharmacists or paramedics? This reminds me of barefoot doctors in China 40 years ago. UK spending on health is insufficient. Moving to a hypothecated tax – one dedicated to spending on health alone – is a possibility. Another is personal insurance. We buy insurance against other hazards and most would be prepared to do so for better healthcare.

Yet money is not the whole story. The UK desperately needs to train more doctors and healthcare workers. The health and social care systems must be closely aligned.

There is an African saying: ‘Health is made at home, hospitals are there for repairs.’ My mother was too old for repairs but she contributed to the NHS her whole life. When we tried to access a little care and compassion in the community, we encountered a black hole. Africa would have done better. Britain deserves better.

Fragile Lives, by Professor Stephen Westaby, published by HarperCollins, is out now, priced £14.99.

When we needed compassion we met a black hole