The NHS was a national treasure – but not any more

I love the NHS and with good reason: it saved my dad’s life twice, it saved my friend’s sight; and two weeks ago, it saved the life of my friends’ five-year-old daughter. At its best, the NHS is remarkable. But the post-pandemic NHS is anything but. It was this side of the health service – stressful, inefficient and downright upsetting – I experienced when I waited hours for urgent treatment for chest pains last week. It’s also a side of the NHS more and more Brits are seeing, as waiting times soar and hospitals resemble war zones.

Is that an exaggeration? The A&E waiting room in Ashford was certainly no advert for the NHS. A lady who had burned her hand on hot oil and winced in pain waited for hours to be seen; a young girl in tears had to be brought a bowl in case she vomited; an elderly lady, hospitalised after a fall, lay on a trolley moaning in pain in front of the entire waiting room.