I was under the impression that hospitals were provided to ease pain an stress, not cause it.
I am 82 years of age and although not enjoying the best of health, I like to be as independent as possible.
On Saturday, July 1, the sun was shining.
The greenhouse had sprung a leak, so I got out the stepladder and climbed up to plug the leak, when I lost my balance and fell about 12ft from the stepladder, only having time to call myself an idiot before crashing to the stone paving blocks with my left shoulder taking the full impact.
I lay crumpled against the rear gate, with my left arm trapped beneath me.
After about 10 minutes, I tried moving and was able to get my mobile phone with my right hand.
I rang my wife who was shopping and she rushed home. Together with our neighbours who were also brilliant they made me as comfortable as was possible.
A female paramedic from Hornsea was first on the scene. She assessed the situation and with the possibility of neck or spinal injuries she summoned the coastguard and helicopter.
The ambulance arrived over half an hour later and the job of giving painkilling injections and setting up a drip proceeded, before I was strapped into a cradle.
By this time I was naked from the waist up, as my upper clothes had to be cut from me to get at my arm with needles for a drip.
After checking my upper spine, neck etc, the ambulance crew together with the coastguards lifted me clear of the rear gate and then out and into the ambulance.
The ambulance then drove past Bridlington Hospital on its way to Scarborough Hospital.
At Scarborough I was rushed past queues of other casualties straight to the X-ray department and eventually seen by a doctor who told me that my left arm, directly below the shoulder was broken.
A sling was applied which only supported my left wrist and then I was discharged and told to make my own way home.
On pointing out that I was semi-naked, he gave me a pyjama jacket.
He also gave me a prescription for painkillers, but would not process it telling us to use a chemist.
The pain now was so bad that I had to grit my teeth all the time.
With no transport back we were stuck there, but Barbara remembered our neighbours’ number was the last dialled in her phone and they were good enough to come and bring us home.
I cannot praise the professionalism of the medics, ambulance crew, coastguards etc enough, they were caring at all times.
On Monday, July 3, we rang our local surgery as the pain was intense, making me feel sickly.
The receptionist advised us that because I was sent to Scarborough they would have to deal with it.
The pain was grinding me down and there was no way we could have made the journey to Scarborough.
The sickly pain continues, my left elbow and arm are badly bruised and my wrist, which I suspect was badly sprained plus my fingers which were swollen black and blue remain painful to move.
In the past, I have received very good care at Bridlington Hospital, operations, endoscopies etc.
Two of the aspects which now appear to be missing from the vocabulary of the powers that be, who are seemingly intent on closing down our hospital are pain and time.
Every time the vehicle jerked that caused me to wince with pain, after we passed Bridlington Hospital on our way to Scarborough, were unnecessary, in that our own hospital could have treated me without extra pain caused by the long journey...
Time, the distance, how many lives have been lost due to the time it takes?
Pain and time means nothing to pen pushers, as they strive to justify their highly lucrative positions.
St Hilda Street