The NHS in Stoke, Ash clouds & reminders on Hanley bus station

Well this is my debut blog and I have been invited by a work colleague as she appreciates my ability for a good rant. If I enjoy it you may be reading more of my strange tales but we will see how it goes. And if my enthusiasm (Or lack of) and my addiciton to you tube halts this. Apologies for any spelling mistakes.

The NHS in Stoke-On-Trent:

My first topic. DISCLAIMER: This rant is in no way aimed at the Doctors, Nurses, Ambulance men, Support staff, Clerical staff and 1000s of other volunteers who keep this institution running on a daily basis. And obviously not everyone in Stoke is haggard,obese and unemployed although if you visit A & E or Hanley bus station you would struggle to break the myth.

PART 1: Unfortunately I have recently being involved in an accident that resulted in a broken foot we wont go into the precise details. This gave me the joyous pleasure of sitting in the fracture clinic at Hartshill for some 4 hours. A number of highlights. 1st off the initial sight of about 150 people from North Staffordshire with ailments of all kinds and plenty of stories. And it would seem relatives and friends willing to sit with them. Some up to 5 people. 90 % of which were haggard,obese and/or unemployed. No wonder the place was chaos with a 1-4 ratio taking up valuable waiting areas. As I sat on a table due to the lack of room not one of the many haggard creatures of the potteries offered me a seat. They merely looked at me as if I was the problem. My advice for which ever idiot is voted in two weeks. Please let only a 1-1 ratio in aforementioned clinic. After waiting for 2 hours I was then sent to a corridor to wait for a further 30 minutes. Again this area had god knows how many hanger onners looking for a free brew and somewhere other than the cafe on Hanley bus station or Ladbrokes to hang around. On the point of free refreshments. I ended up paying £3 for a bag of crisps and the worst cheese and tomato sandwich of all time. The look of disgust on my face must have been priceless. Although in the corner of my eye balanced on a table I could see the 3 witches of Macbeth drooling at the thought of stealing it. They would have bought one but they had no joy on the national and dole day is Thursday.

PART 2: Finally I was seen and treated by a very pleasant doctor who has a lot better things to do than treat me and 99% of the other people in the fracture clinic. By their very nature most of which are self inflicted. I then made my way to the casting room where I was met with another over crowded waiting room. This time I managed to get a seat although I wish id taken ear plugs. Sat some 4 chairs away was a Jim Davidson sound alike trying to be funny. By this I mean trying to be racist but not having the balls to say what he actually meant. I meanwhile listened getting angry with each sentence and mumbling under my breath. The conversation centred around the fact that his accident had been caused by a taxi driver to quote, "You know what their sort are like." By their sort id assumed people making a living from driving people around?!?! No it appears he meant someone of Asian ethnicity. He then went on to slag off the staff that had seen him in part 1. Apparently they couldn't speak very good English. He didn't think to thank them for fixing him after travelling 1000s of miles away from family and friends. To only be confronted by Neanderthals in the Potteries. I just hope the taxi driver does a better job next time.

Ash clouds:

How can a natural disaster cause so much chaos? Just ask the British Media. Every kind of map possible to explain that essentially they aren't flying for two reasons. One the morale panic on 9/11 Princess Diana scale that would have happened even if 1 plane had to land a little quickly. And two the cost of cleaning engines dirtied by the clouds which according to a good source would have been 10 times the cost of cancelling all flights. Plus they wouldn't have been able to bully the government and the EU into paying all the comp out. I have heard rumours of a flying disc being chased by fighter planes down the M4 but i'l leave the conspiracy theories to David Icke. (Maybe Thomas Cook is actually a reptilian that dwells beneath Buckingham palace.) I have also enjoyed the ridiculous escapades of plains,trains and automobile style stories. My particular fave a Music professor and his wife went as follows. Flight to Amsterdam. Taxi to Belgium. (Why a taxi I don't know). Train to Paris to Calais. Ferry to Britain. His quote, "Well its the British Dunkirk spirit isn't it?" Yes another pointless unplanned escapade into insanity. I note you only hear about the rich people able to take part in these stories of complete stupidity.

On a lighter note there must have been some effect. My mum wiped the outside table at hers and brought in the cloth, "Look that's that ash you know its everywhere." Showing me a cloth with a black substance not to dissimilar to ash but more likely to be non de-script dirt. Her evidence was backed up by someone from her coffee morning group. "Well she said she could taste the ash when she was cycling." Comedy gold. My mum wont be voting for David Cameron. After his egg-ceptional display at the Cornish 6th form, " Oh daft bugger what a waste of an egg." Just wish Cameron had swung at the hoody Prescott style although hes far too smug for that.

To sign off. A story donated by a friend of mine on waiting for a bus in Hanley this morning. A man holding a free pen from a betting shop you know the little blue ones. Wrote dole 1.30 on his hand. It could have been a reminder for a horse or an appointment. I'm just wondering whether it came in or not?