The small NHS failings that let down patients like my mother

I would be the first to admit that the NHS has done a lot for my mother this year. It gave her the emergency blood transfusion that undoubtedly saved her life, followed by several iron infusions and umpteen scans and tests. It has treated a series of infected leg ulcers and provided consultations with senior medical figures and countless more outpatient appointments. It has supplied her with swanky new hearing aids and nursed her through Covid. During her four months in hospital, in two separate stays of nine and seven weeks, it came up with three meals a day, not all of them involving ravioli, mash and gravy, and a regime of (almost) daily physiotherapy. If my mum were American, I have reflected more than once, her money would have run out several rounds of ravioli ago. The one thing the NHS has failed to do, however, is cut her toenails.

I now know more about the toenails of the elderly than is healthy for a fortysomething theatre critic. This niche subject constitutes one of those infamous and bewildering mini black holes in NHS provision. Complex procedure? Sure thing. Letter informing the recipient in good time of a vital pre-operative assessment? Touch and go. But a nurse who will perform a small, menial task to restore a modicum of dignity to an elderly and frail patient? Not happening.

There is a reason why, at the beauty salon I used to go to, an elegant elderly gentleman was often to be found amid the young women awaiting their turn for a pedicure. He simply required his toenails to be cut. GP practices used to perform this service. Most no longer do.