Managing Risk in the NHS Debate
Full Debate: Read Full DebateAnn Clwyd
Main Page: Ann Clwyd (Labour - Cynon Valley)Department Debates - View all Ann Clwyd's debates with the Department of Health and Social Care
(11 years, 1 month ago)
Commons ChamberAs on six previous occasions, I shall read from testimony showing a lack of care and compassion from the 2,500 people who sent letters and e-mails to me.
The family of an 89-year-old patient wrote:
“During our daily visits, we had to locate a cup from the kitchen on the ward in order to give her some fluid. She never had a drink of any sort within reach. This resulted in severe dehydration, which was apparent by her sunken eyes, dry, scaly skin, fatigue and her unquenchable thirst when we provided her with drinks. The staff informed us that she was not eating but we found she would eat any food we brought in for her. Whilst in bed the staff neglected to move her on a regular basis and this resulted in circulatory problems and ultimately necrosis of both feet. She also developed many infections…the wound on one heel was so advanced that the bone was visible.”
A man whose son suffered further brain damage due to lack of care said:
“He was left lying in his own urine, faeces, etc. He was left without fluids for over 12 hours then he had a huge seizure. The doctor would turn up at 5 o’clock stating ‘What’s the plan for today?’ when the day was clearly over…I witnessed nurses allowing drugs and feed to go to the floor…the floor was in such a state my feet were sticking to it. You can’t blame the cleaners for MRSA!”
A woman writes about her father’s death in hospital:
“I used the term ‘conveyer belt to death’ at the time we lost our beloved dad. On that chaotic Friday afternoon, when all the Consultants and senior staff are dashing off for an early week end finish, a poor young doctor was pushed into our path by one of these Consultants from the palliative team and uttered the immortal words that will stay with me—“Is Tuesday OK?”…I only twigged later that night that that was the date to cancel any care and pull the plug.”
A woman writes of her father’s experience in hospital:
“I’ve tried to find out what he’s eating and how much but no one seems to know and the nursing staff just tell me they have too many plates to clear to remember who was eating what. My Dad is wasting away in front of my eyes and they just keep telling me they’re too busy to help. My Dad is 76 and he has always been fit and well but I’m fearful now that he will never come home from hospital alive.”
Another woman wrote:
“Having continually pushed for the best care available during his time there, it seemed that complaining wouldn’t make any difference, other than making me relive every humiliation, discomfort, stupidity and indifference…My father spent a month in hospital, and he said it was worse than his experiences in the Second World War…We watched one man fading away, naked apart from a soiled nappy, in full view of visiting families.”
The wife of a whistleblower wrote:
“My husband was a senior nurse who recorded what he considered to be gross ill treatment of patients to his senior Consultant…he was subjected to prolonged bullying campaigns and subjected to pseudo disciplinary procedures. He was supported by the RCN who managed to keep him in his job…To cut a long story short, after six years of abuse, stress and fear my husband suffered a major stroke while working at the hospital. He was later subjected to a vicious attack”
by the management
“at his back to work interview. He retired from the NHS on medical grounds. He was 46 years old. He lost the job he loved. The NHS lost a highly skilled super intelligent practical nurse who loved his patients and worked hard for them. His colleague who supported him lasted a bit longer but was also forced into retirement after her health was destroyed by bullying because she also witnessed and reported the abuse of patients”.
The right hon. Lady is telling us some very compassionate and emotional stories. Does she feel that the voice of families, which she has illustrated very well, needs to be heard more by management and staff, and does she feel that the process should be improved to enable that to happen?
I was reluctant to intervene when the right hon. Lady was giving all those examples, but this seems to be a natural break. I share her huge concern about end-of-life care in hospitals, and she may share my concern about the Government’s announcement this week that the Liverpool care pathway will end this year. I hope that the Government are clear about what will replace it, and that we do not end up with confusion about responsibilities in hospitals, which could lead to less dignity and care as people reach the end of their lives.
I thank the hon. Gentleman for making that point. My next piece of testimony comes from a man who wrote this about his mother’s death in hospital:
“'My mother died under unspeakable conditions. The treatment she received, being deliberately dehydrated to death, on the so called ‘Pathway’, and total lack of sedation resulted in a death of anxiety, pain and total lack of dignity, which I personally witnessed.
The callous attitude of the staff beggared belief. My mother suffered incredible levels of neglect and abuse. We initiated a complaint, resulting in several distressing meetings. The whole procedure was to no avail as we only received platitudes of regret resulting in written statements of denial of any lack of patient care”.
Another man wrote:
“I left my wife with the assurance from nursing staff that she would be given a bath. I found her the next day some 15 hours later in her own excreta and vomit. Her face had been wiped clean. Nothing else. I was told the hoist was not working and that the bath was not plumbed in, and, in any event, nursing staff did not have the time to bathe her. Having found the equipment in perfect working order I bathed her.
I was caring for a fragile lady. I couldn’t make a complaint, I was frightened because my complaining would upset her and more uncomfortably, I had no trust in the nursing staff. Complain and how much worse could the callousness be? I took her home saying nothing. I'm still ashamed”.
Another man wrote this about his treatment for a punctured lung:
“My drip was not changed for six days, my chest hair that was shaved was left to fall under my bed and not cleaned up properly. I was never washed and in the end went by myself to the shower past the nurses station pulling my drip trolley—no one helped or worse enquired what I was doing. Water was taken away very early in the morning and not returned for at least two hours although there was obvious chatter coming from the nurses station”.
All the testimonies that I have read out come from Wales.