Nhs Nurse Quotes

REAL HEROES ARE THOSE WHO RISK THEIR LIVES TO SAVE LIVES

As we stood on our doorsteps and clanged our pans, politicians were handing out billion-pound contracts to their mates. As we put rainbows in our windows, nursing home residents were being all but murdered by their idiotic policies. And throughout, as NHS staff put their lives at risk, as they worked double and triple shifts, as the PPE cut into their faces, as they moved out of their family homes for months on end, the ghouls in charge seemed far more concerned with their own appearances and legacies. And there’s still nothing approaching an assurance that the NHS won’t be sold off in five years’ time, plunging us into an unfair insurance-based system that mostly benefits the former politicians who stuff the boardrooms of private medicine.

His calculation showed that the NHS employs more than four times as many managers and support staff per nurse than a private hospital.

Michael’s career as a government minister made him a target of the tabloids. The Daily Mail ran a series of articles claiming that during a hospital stay Michael had received special treatment. But Michael accepted only the care available to other NHS patients. “I didn’t like taking libel actions because I’m a journalist,” he noted. Indeed, he had had to defend himself in libel actions that resulted from his articles. But when the tabloid continued to publish false stories and refused to retract them, Michael sued, forcing the paper to pay him £6000 and issue an apology. “They went to every kind of length to prove that I was wrong ... They couldn’t get the nurses to say anything ... They’re swines [the tabloids], you know.

There was a young man from Nantucket Who got hit on the head with a bucket It started to throb So he got out his knob And got all the nurses to suck it. I chuckled, then the hairs on the back of my neck started to prickle. I looked up to see Nurse Sarah (late twenties or early thirties, chirpy, on the cuddly side—she could have been Gary’s twin sister) reading over my shoulder. “Sorry, love,” she said. “This is the NHS. You’ll have to go private if you want that kind of service.

In the middle of chaos, a patient once whispered, ‘Thank you for seeing me.’ And I’ve never forgotten that.

There’s grace in learning to laugh at yourself—especially when you’ve confused the ‘loo’ for a place to rest.

The bravest people I know don’t wear capes—they wear PPE, hold hands through the dark, and carry on anyway.

I am neither a politician nor an economist. I am an impatient out-patient with cancer. It is not an insult to the NHS to point out that it is broken, that it has been broken by governments run by people on private healthcare who believe in competition as the supreme good. The hand sanitiser in the bathroom has still not been fixed. Emergency phone numbers are no longer in use, or never answered. The system is unable to join the dots between the different branches of care. Scans supposed to determine treatment are delayed until after the treatment is scheduled. Nurses walk three floors up to the pharmacy because the pharmacist is too understaffed to answer the phone. I see nurses crying in the car park. Not so long ago we used to stand on our doorsteps and applaud these people, put posters in our windows in praise of NHS heroes. They were the most key of our Key Workers. Nothing was too much for them: charity bake offs, celeb-zoom-endorsements, sponsored walks around the garden. But now, a pay rise in line with inflation? A whole nineteen pounds an hour for a junior doctor? You've gotta be kidding.