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?

Photo: Getty
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The government needs more on airports than just Chris Grayling's hunch

This disastrous plan to expand Heathrow will fail, vows Tom Brake. 

I ought to stop being surprised by Theresa May’s decision making. After all, in her short time as Prime Minister she has made a series of terrible decisions. First, we had Chief Buffoon, Boris Johnson appointed as Foreign Secretary to represent the United Kingdom around the world. Then May, announced full steam ahead with the most extreme version of Brexit, causing mass economic uncertainty before we’ve even begun negotiations with the EU. And now we have the announcement that expansion of Heathrow Airport, in the form of a third runway, will go ahead: a colossally expensive, environmentally disastrous, and ill-advised decision.

In the House of Commons on Tuesday, I asked Transport Secretary Chris Grayling why the government is “disregarding widespread hostility and bulldozing through a third runway, which will inflict crippling noise, significant climate change effects, health-damaging air pollution and catastrophic congestion on a million Londoners.” His response was nothing more than “because we don’t believe it’s going to do those things.”

I find this astonishing. It appears that the government is proceeding with a multi-billion pound project with Grayling’s beliefs as evidence. Why does the government believe that a country of our size should focus on one major airport in an already overcrowded South East? Germany has multiple major airports, Spain three, the French, Italians, and Japanese have at least two. And I find it astonishing that the government is paying such little heed to our legal and moral environmental obligations.

One of my first acts as an MP nineteen years ago was to set out the Liberal Democrat opposition to the expansion of Heathrow or any airport in southeast England. The United Kingdom has a huge imbalance between the London and the South East, and the rest of the country. This imbalance is a serious issue which our government must get to work remedying. Unfortunately, the expansion of Heathrow does just the opposite - it further concentrates government spending and private investment on this overcrowded corner of the country.

Transport for London estimates that to make the necessary upgrades to transport links around Heathrow will be £10-£20 billion pounds. Heathrow airport is reportedly willing to pay only £1billion of those costs. Without upgrades to the Tube and rail links, the impact on London’s already clogged roads will be substantial. Any diversion of investment from improving TfL’s wider network to lines serving Heathrow would be catastrophic for the capital. And it will not be welcomed by Londoners who already face a daily ordeal of crowded tubes and traffic-delayed buses. In the unlikely event that the government agrees to fund this shortfall, this would be salt in the wound for the South-West, the North, and other parts of the country already deprived of funding for improved rail and road links.

Increased congestion in the capital will not only raise the collective blood pressure of Londoners, but will have severe detrimental effects on our already dire levels of air pollution. During each of the last ten years, air pollution levels have been breached at multiple sites around Heathrow. While a large proportion of this air pollution is caused by surface transport serving Heathrow, a third more planes arriving and departing adds yet more particulates to the air. Even without expansion, it is imperative that we work out how to clean this toxic air. Barrelling ahead without doing so is irresponsible, doing nothing but harm our planet and shorten the lives of those living in west London.

We need an innovative, forward-looking strategy. We need to make transferring to a train to Cardiff after a flight from Dubai as straightforward and simple as transferring to another flight is now. We need to invest in better rail links so travelling by train to the centre of Glasgow or Edinburgh is quicker than flying. Expanding Heathrow means missing our climate change targets is a certainty; it makes life a misery for those who live around the airport and it diverts precious Government spending from other more worthy projects.

The Prime Minister would be wise to heed her own advice to the 2008 government and “recognise widespread hostility to Heathrow expansion.” The decision to build a third runway at Heathrow is the wrong one and if she refuses to U-turn she will soon discover the true extent of the opposition to these plans.

Tom Brake is the Liberal Democrat MP for Carshalton & Wallington.