Healthcare in the UK can be an emotive subject. After all, a significant proportion of the UK population seem to believe the NHS<\/a> is some kind of religious institution.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I am going to start with a big statement. If I didn\u2019t have access to private healthcare, I might be dead<\/a>. Or, at the very least – terminally ill. Then again, if I didn\u2019t have the NHS available when I got sepsis<\/a>, I\u2019d probably be dead too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This isn\u2019t a party political broadcast. In England we widely accept that the NHS is a good idea, and the system works for us. Four of my closest family members are NHS lifers, and it\u2019s been a huge part of my own life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Like most people, I was born in a NHS hospital. I used to jump over the school fence to have my lunch with my mum in the hospital canteen. Both of my children were born in our local NHS hospitals, although we had a bit of expertise from the Portland<\/a> too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When my daughter was born, I walked the long hospital corridors to the special care baby unit in the middle of the night. They have cared for all my grandparents in their final moments too. The NHS looks after my father three days a week and their wages have put food in our family’s mouths since the 1960\u2019s. Honestly, I don’t have an axe to grind here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I have had access to a private GP for almost 20 years, probably since I first started working in the city. But I very rarely (if ever) use them, and our local NHS surgery takes care of the whole family. It’s a pretty typical set-up in the UK. Ours is a really busy surgery, it’s well regarded in our community and in the main, they do a pretty decent job. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The NHS is absolutely world class at emergency medicine. It’s a leader in research and innovation, in training and the really big complicated stuff. When it comes to surgery and recovery, you are in incredibly safe hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But, when it came to spotting penile cancer, they came up short. It wasn\u2019t just my GP surgery either, even the busy NHS sexual health clinic didn’t have a clue. That place must see more penises locally than just about anything else. I don\u2019t actually blame the health service for this failure though.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Clinical practices are very heavily regulated, and guidelines and processes seem to be blindly followed. Other conditions are eliminated first, and this, unfortunately leads to delays.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Could some initiative have been used by the doctor when the problem slipped between the cracks of their processes? Sure. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Should I have been referred on to a urologist if they were not sure I had something else? Yes, definitely. This is where we are though, and I\u2019m not dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I’m convinced that lessons can be learned, and it’s only really a question of awareness. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Despite the political hyperbole, there is no penny pinching in the NHS. It\u2019s just about the most expensive health service provision on earth, costing us 2.65 billion pounds a week. The real issue that I regularly encounter, is bureaucracy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n You can read more about my ridiculous journey to finally get to see a urologist in my journals. But long story short, it\u2019s an incredibly slow, inefficient, monolithic beast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Everything is done to a set formula. If your condition is not typical, there\u2019s a good chance that you\u2019ll slip through the cracks, which is why it\u2019s really important to ask lots of questions of your GP. If you\u2019ve got a lump on the head of your penis, or trapped under your foreskin, it could have sharp pain, smelly discharge, a lump in the groin perhaps \u2013 just ask the question, could it be cancer?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anyway, enough of my venting – this is about the difference between the NHS and private health care providers. It’s about what I\u2019ve found, what\u2019s brilliant about both, what could be better and what you can expect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The first thing to remember about private healthcare is that it\u2019s all about health insurance. Everything is signed off step by step, with cover limits, exclusions and levels of cover. You can choose bronze, silver, gold, platinum, probably black. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Every time you see someone new or find something new \u2013 they need to approve it. I must say though, my health insurers were brilliant at every step, nothing was too much trouble, and they made everything stress free. <\/p>\n\n\n\n With the NHS, there\u2019s none of that approval nonsense, it\u2019s just covered. Whatever it is, it’s sorted for you, cradle to grave. It’s a gift from the British taxpayer. From each, according to their means, to each, according to their needs. (Whether you want it or not)<\/p>\n\n\n\n The doctors in the UK are pretty much always the same. Whether they wear a NHS badge or a Bupa\/Spire one, it’s all the same pool of doctors. Private surgeons are just NHS surgeons on their days off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The level of expertise is the same, but instead of a broom cupboard with a couple of plastic chairs, you\u2019ll get a nice consulting room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nurses, and specialists like physiotherapists will often have a NHS day job too. This is just the side hustle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Here\u2019s the first really big difference. In a NHS general hospital you could have 12 men in each ward, separated by a curtain. They could all have different ailments too. You\u2019re usually sharing a toilet with a few sections of the wards, and at the height of a global pandemic it\u2019s absolutely crazy.<\/p>\n\n\n\nWe all have NHS stories<\/h6>\n\n\n\n
Bureaucrats.<\/h6>\n\n\n\n
It’s probably not that hard to fix<\/h6>\n\n\n\n
What’s the difference?<\/h6>\n\n\n\n
Insurance<\/h6>\n\n\n\n
Doctors<\/h6>\n\n\n\n
Accommodation<\/h6>\n\n\n\n