Letad was in extreme pain, almost equivalent to having his leg cut off apparently when asked on a scale of one to ten and so we decided to take advantage of the NHS and called an ambulance.
It was 4am. Dark and cold. We sat outside in the ambulance for a long time as Letad was questioned, examined and eventually given morphine for the pain.
It sounded like a kidney stone from his description or it could have been wind from the rather delicious but wind-inducing combination of Brussels sprouts, kale, chickpeas and goat cheese (with hot sauce) I’d made for dinner.
Either way he wasn’t very well at all and so the ambulance crew (who were brilliant) took us up to the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead to Accident & Emergency, an experience indeed.
As I write this it’s 5:45am. We’ve been waiting for half an hour so far and it seems busy and disorganized. The hospital is filthy with dirty linoleum floors, a broken toilet and stinks of stale booze. It may be socialized health care but this seems pretty substandard.
Eventually we saw a doctor and now at 7:25am we’re waiting for the urologist to arrive at 8am so we can book a CT scan.
It looks as though we might be here for a while…