Why is the waiting time for A&E the same as a flight to Gothenburg?

The adventures of a broken toe.

When your luck runs out, it runs out all at once. I muse on this as I enter the third hour of my wait in A & E. The day before, I had banged my little toe against the door frame so hard that it is still too sensitive to touch a day later and the configuration of the pain strongly suggests that a bone might have been broken.

I suppose there’s nothing much they can do with a broken little toe, except tell you not to use it, which I think I could work out all by myself, so what I was really after in St Mary’s was information and validation of my own suffering. Which, after the rather painful journey to the hospital – it’s a 15-minute stroll from the Hovel but a rather longer hobble – was fairly acute.

Still, what the hell is this, my waiting here with a possibly broken toe (I did it while rushing to get the clothes out of the machine, which makes me one of the few people in the modern age to have hurt themselves while doing the laundry) when there are people around me visibly suffering? As I write, my friend Leyla Sanai is contemplating the amputation of her leg because of her scleroderma, and is bearing her sufferings with a fortitude that is beyond comprehension. There is a young Spanish man sitting next to me who appears to have something terrible going on with his arm. “Joan,” calls a nurse from a consulting room. He looks up and there is a silence. Of all the people in this room, none is prepared to answer to the name Joan.

“Joan Estevez,” says the nurse. The young Spaniard lifts his head. “Juan,” he says.

“It says ‘Joan’ here,” replies the nurse, in tones which suggest that the name “Juan”, which this young man seems to be claiming as his own, is an imposture and an affectation. Eventually, though, as no one else seems to be claiming the surname “Estevez”, she lets him go into the room.

The quarter hours go by. A nurse had offered me a couple of co-codamol on turning up and I had accepted more out of politeness than need; in rest, the toe was quite docile, but the nurse had charmed me by calling me “sweet pea” and I had a hunch that a couple of these on an empty stomach would have a rather soothing effect. They do but I recognise another pain bubbling up: that of the end of a brief interlude of domestic happiness.

The Beloved, you see, has been offered a job in Gothenburg for something approaching twice the salary she is bringing in here. The offer was made some time ago and she has been putting off making a decision for as long as she can. I have been to Gothenburg and wouldn’t go back there if you paid me, but she is for some reason enamoured of the country and the language; so it’s rather as if someone had offered me a job in Verona.

Is that right? In my campaign to dissuade her from going, I have been doing a spot of research, both on the internet and the internot (ie, books) and have come up with some killer facts about this country, for which I am beginning to nurture a dislike – as you would a rival in love.

“There are 12 people in Sweden,” I tell her, only slightly massaging the facts to suit my purpose. “In the summer, three of them are eaten alive by giant mutant mosquitoes. In the autumn, feral moose, pissed out of their minds on decaying windfalls, account for about four more. Those that remain blow their brains out in winter, which lasts for nine months.

You can only buy alcohol from a small corrugated-iron shed in Malmö, and when you do your name is put on a criminal register, right next to the paedophiles and heroin traffickers. A bottle of beer costs 6,000 kronor and tastes of moose piss, for the very good reason that that is what it is made from.”

I reinforce my point by demonstrating that when you type the words “bad things about Sweden” into Google you get 36,200,000 results (try it). But it’s a jump up in terms of her career and if I was the one to hold her back by having a crying fit, I’d feel guilty for the rest of my life. So, I know that all I can do is try to ignore my own very strong feelings for once and think of what is best for her.

Hence, perhaps, my concentration on my toe. Which, as it turns out, is not broken (but a week later is still painful and impossible to touch). It took four hours to learn that; as long as a return flight to Gothenburg, I reflect.

Turn up with a broken toe at A&E, and be prepared for a wait. Image: Getty

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 06 November 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Are cities getting too big?

Leon Neal/ Getty
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“Brexit is based on racism”: Who is protesting outside the Supreme Court and what are they fighting for?

Movement for Justice is challenging the racist potential of Brexit, as the government appeals the High Court's Article 50 decision.

Protestors from the campaign group Movement for Justice are demonstrating outside the Supreme Court for the second day running. They are against the government triggering Article 50 without asking MPs, and are protesting against the Brexit vote in general. They plan to remain outside the Supreme Court for the duration of the case, as the government appeals the recent High Court ruling in favour of Parliament.

Their banners call to "STOP the scapgoating of immigrants", to "Build the movement against austerity & FOR equality", and to "Stop Brexit Fight Racism".

The group led Saturday’s march at Yarl’s Wood Immigration Detention Centre, where a crowd of over 2,000 people stood against the government’s immigration policy, and the management of the centre, which has long been under fire for claims of abuse against detainees.  

Movement for Justice, and its 50 campaigners, were in the company yesterday of people from all walks of pro and anti-Brexit life, including the hangers-on from former Ukip leader Nigel Farage’s postponed march on the Supreme Court.

Antonia Bright, one of the campaign’s lead figures, says: “It is in the interests of our fight for freedom of movement that the Supreme Court blocks May’s attempt to rush through an anti-immigrant deal.”

This sentiment is echoed by campaigners on both sides of the referendum, many of whom believe that Parliament should be involved.

Alongside refuting the royal prerogative, the group criticises the Brexit vote in general. Bright says:

“The bottom line is that Brexit represents an anti-immigrant movement. It is based on racism, so regardless of how people intended their vote, it will still be a decision that is an attack on immigration.”

A crucial concern for the group is that the terms of the agreement will set a precedent for anti-immigrant policies that will heighten aggression against ethnic communities.

This concern isn’t entirely unfounded. The National Police Chief’s Council recorded a 58 per cent spike in hate crimes in the week following the referendum. Over the course of the month, this averaged as a 41 per cent increase, compared with the same time the following year.

The subtext of Bright's statement is not only a dissatisfaction with the result of the EU referendum, but the process of the vote itself. It voices a concern heard many times since the vote that a referendum is far too simple a process for a desicion of such momentous consequences. She also draws on the gaping hole between people's voting intentions and the policy that is implemented.

This is particularly troubling when the competitive nature of multilateral bargaining allows the government to keep its cards close to its chest on critical issues such as freedom of movement and trade agreements. Bright insists that this, “is not a democratic process at all”.

“We want to positively say that there does need to be scrutiny and transparency, and an opening up of this question, not just a rushing through on the royal prerogative,” she adds. “There needs to be transparency in everything that is being negotiated and discussed in the public realm.”

For campaigners, the use of royal prerogative is a sinister symbol of the government deciding whatever it likes, without consulting Parliament or voters, during the future Brexit negotiations. A ruling in the Supreme Court in favour of a parliamentary vote would present a small but important reassurance against these fears.