My Dad spent a fair bit of time in hospitals when I was a child. When I used to visit him with my Mum, he was delighted of the company, because, lets face it, Hospitals are very tedious places for the patient, especially if you are bed-ridden. Sometimes there might be a Ward telly or even a day room, but the only other thing that passed for amusement other than the Ward routine was a coin box on wheels and if you were lucky, a pair of stephoscope type headphones. This would give you a few choices of cable radio and sometimes there might be a hospital radio station. Hospital Radio has always attracted volunteers to present shows, work behind the scenes and go round the Wards collecting requests. (Indeed Karen used to do it in Manchester and knew several people who went on to make a career in broadcasting). Hospitals generally support their radio station (although not financially), because it has therapeutic value to the patients.

Nowadays, many UK hospitals have a bedside unit provided by a Company called PatientLine. These units provide TV, radio, telephone, games and internet access when fully provisioned. The units are LCD screens on a balanced spring extending arm arrangement fixed to a substantial wallbox reminiscent of an Ascot Water Heater. To the left of the unit is a corded handset for the telephone, to the right a corded remote control which hinges open to reveal a QWERTY keyboard. They have been in use for more than twelve years now with nearly 54% market share but they have a reputation for complexity and unreliability. (Indeed, the Company appears to be on the rocks).

I had no trouble with the system for my previous short stays undergoing sleep studies (& I didn’t find one for my Grommet stay) but this time, it was not to be. The bedside unit was jammed on the Ward for my first night stay (but had been reported) and they weren’t fitted in the high dependency/intensive care Ward (unsurprisingly) . However, I looked forward to returning to the Ward and being able to communicate with the outside world again. (Karen had arranged for TV & Phone credit). Having not had a planned visit with the introductory brochure, I had no idea if the hospital had internet access (or even a Radio station) and the staff weren’t too sure either. If there was a Hospital Radio Station, I mulled over what would be a good choice of music and eventually decided on a suitable song.

Getting back to the Ward on Saturday afternoon, the unit was still locked up, so I phoned through and reported it. They said they would pass it on to the site staff who worked till three pm but if they didn’t get round to it then I should call back and they would do a remote reset (although they weren’t always as successful).

In due course, a technician turned up, unscrewed the cover with a special key and performed an “engineer reset” by clicking the mains switch inside off then on again. He said it would be back on again within thirty minute, but five minutes later we had a BSoD variant- an error box with the dreaded words fatal and unrecoverable in amongst the gibberish.

When the screen was still the same later, I got the keyboard out and cleared the box with a Return but all that left me with was a blank screen with a mouse arrow that I could move around, but no other functionality other than calling their Operator. Remote resets didn’t help and when I called back on Sunday they couldn’t help me again until Monday morning. Meanwhile, I watched other beds get vacated and re-occupied over the weekend with envy. (Deciding which bed a patient goes into is a dark science and entirely for the benefit of the nurses, not the occupant).

Come Monday morning, a Technician turned up with a Boss and I noted they had an extensive fault list. They reset it under the cover again but promised to come back later as this particular unit had been playing up previously and had already had innards changed.

After ten minutes or so, the unit appeared to be functioning. I pressed the radio button and was rewarded with a song from the hospital radio over by Boses. (I had got Karen to bring my expensive noise cancelling headphones in, They are £££ but excellent quality). I pushed TV and saw BBC 1. I changed channels and saw… an information screen that wouldn’t go away. The bloody thing was banjaxed. The staff came back, briefly fiddled with it, made a note and then went away. I talked to the Operator who futilely did a remote reset. Eight hours later I was discharged…

Patientline appears to be widely loathed, certainly by many of the staff I talked to at the Hospital. Having said that, the NHS Trusts are also widely loathed as well- extortionate car parking charges, mishandled budgets, poor performance, crippling PFI deals, indifferent staff, despondent doctors, inefficient planning, rampant superbugs, decentralisation spin, the list goes on.

However, my getting bored and frustrated with the inability to use the stuff I had already forked out for was a distraction- the important thing was to cope with my injuries and get the physiotherapy right. I had a big heap of reading material that I managed to crack through over the four days and I had my AldiPod.

So what song had I decided to request? Simple twist of Fate by Bob Dylan, not the original 1975 song from Blood on the tracks but the live version from the 1979 Budokan Album.

I couldn’t find that version on YouTube (there are loads of versions but they aren’t as good IMHO) but the one below is half decent. You can see the lyrics and hear samples HERE.