All the same, there is a travellers' site not far from us, on Eyton Common. I bought a painted horseshoe from them the other day, for £5. A bright-eyed urchin called Zoe assured me that it would bring me luck, and it is true that I promptly won £10 on the lottery, so I suppose I'm a fiver in credit.When I worked on a local newspaper in London I used to report on furious controversies concerning travellers, but the good folk of Eyton don't seem remotely perturbed. My 11-year-old daughter announced the other evening that in maths she had learnt about a particular number, so huge that if it were written down even in small writing, it would stretch all the way from Hereford to Leominster. Even so, she still hears local people criticising Hereford Hospital for being busy and over-stretched, which tickles her enormously.But I must not be smug about the quality of health care out here in the sticks, so let me add one more thing the nurse told Ali and Chris. They had explained that they might have brought Jake in the evening before, but had been worried about driving while over the limit "It's a good job you didn't," she said.
"Friday nights are a nightmare in here, mainly because of all the binge-drinking that goes on in Hereford." Surely not worse than Friday nights in the Whittington? "Oh, much worse," she said.My children have reached the age at which they come home from school and tell me things I did not already know, by which I do not mean that Josh has chicken pox or Jemima a new puppy, but things they have been taught by their teachers. But the story seems worth telling because the nurse who saw Jake had coincidentally spent 15 years working at the Whittington. She agreed that there was an almost comical difference, ascribing it largely to the fact that the Whittington A&E gets clogged up with people who do not have GPs, whereas in Hereford the NHS works as it should, with GPs doing much of the work that in London gets dumped on hospitals. It was 9am when they arrived, having parked directly outside. If you can park directly outside their nearest hospital, the Whittington in Highgate, then you have probably arrived by skateboard. In A&E, there was one other person waiting, again in striking contrast to life at the Whittington.
An X-ray duly showed that Jake had a hairline fracture, so he was given a snazzy blue sling, of which he was understandably proud. The entire business took less than 40 minutes, whereas when Lauren broke her arm nine years ago, they waited at the Whittington for five hours.I realise that none of this will have you reaching for the smelling salts. Plainly, a hospital in Herefordshire, one of England's least densely populated counties, is likely to be markedly less busy than a London one. I write those words with slight trepidation, incidentally, half-anticipating an angry letter from someone who, with six school-age children in their care, would decline alcohol on the off-chance that a car journey to hospital might be required It's amazing what I get angry letters about. Our friends from north London, Ali and Chris, came to stay the other weekend with their children Lauren, Rosie and Jake.
