A couple of us have already eluded to the lack of joined-up-ness of the whole thing.
And the lack of detail where it would really help - like specific exercises to strengthen core muscle groups. "Gentle exercise" prior to surgery, was all I was told, a woman who regularly strides long distances every day. Did that mean I had to tone myself DOWN before admission? There seemed to be no attempt to tailor the advice.
At least this time I didn't have a huge number of Macillian recipe books dropped in my lap at the pre-op, like last time - given to a woman who rarely cooks anything from scratch - i.e. can't and doesn't (want to) cook? Once again, it's about an activity/capability presumed vital to a woman. I was intimidated enough by the pictures...
I would have prefered a guide to the whole pre-op sequence - each of the stations you'll be visiting, and what those consultations are for. Yes, another workflow! A simple one page guide to your "4 hours at the clinic".
The telly, touted in the guide to the ward, did not work, despite it being labelled in the booklet as the star attraction in the TV Room. Wisely, on the actual door, it said "Day Room". I went to retreat into there a couple of times late at night - it's dark and cool and the humidity is far less desicating than the main ward - only to find a nurse wrapped in bedlinen sleeping in there. I don't begrudge that at all - but don't they have their own space to sleep? That television also didn't work in 2016... has it ever been fixed in the meantime?
Those stifling radiators - they seemed to have been turned up full bore at the mains - massive monuments to classic Victorian engineering. They were so hot that you would undoubtedly sustain a burn if you accidently rested your hand on one. Late one night the nurses went around and manually wrestled all of the these monoliths down to an imperceptable heat level, but this reversed the whole airflow dynamic - we'd been able to have the windows open to admit the cold air from outside and it nicely balanced, but suddenly we had to close them all and the air was still and dry. I kept waking up with a raging dry throat. That was the night I decided I had to get home at any cost, I couldn't deal with another night like that.
So... back to our hypothetic ward resource booklet. It was I who was telling the other patients about Ovacome - not in a prescriptive way, just about how wonderful the forum is, for example, to understand what the experience is like from OUR perspective, to understand what those trickily named treatment regimes might feel like in practice, what other women have been through and done, and so on. Why couldn't there be a whole source page of relevant links - all the charities, KnowledgeBases, and even links to the latest publicly-released research. This may be way too much information for some, but many people, and their friends and families, may well want to do their own research. Steer them away from public search engines (and all of that dangerous false information), and give them the good stuff. I'm a scientist, I thrive on that. And yes, this mighty tome should have an online presence, from which the written form is downloaded only at the time it is needed, to ensure the very freshest cut of information. Include more general references - diet, exercise, Macmillan, links to employment-related resources, everything.
There was an "anonymous" feedback form which I agreed to do; it was presented to me on an iPad encased in a childlike purple plastic case which made me feel ill to even think about touching it - it really didn't look clean. I personally abhor Apple technology, and I was handed this without even a rudimentary explanation as to how you invoke a keyboard on the screen. What were their focus groups like on this little gem? Most people have a good grasp of pen and paper, but you can bet many patients wouldn't have a clue how to play this toy. When I accidently exited during the first question and couldn't reinvoke the questionnaire, I gave up. I asked could they give a me a link/URL to an online version which which I could do using a real keyboard, and the nurse just shrugged. "There isn't one".
And that, my friends, is why you're reading this series of posts.
<more? I'm sure there will be>