Chair-Saga

 

See here for essential background: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2025/11/one-of-our-wheelchairs-is-missing.html.
As you can see, three days later and the wheelchair was still there. It had been moved from the middle of the sports pitches by the players and was parked by the shipping container they use to store their equipment. Despite the fact I had called OxRad hospital porters and told them, nobody had been round to pick it up. I didn't fancy its chances much if it were left lying in the open for a lot longer. These vehicles have no anti-corrosion protection, not being designed for outdoor work. A few weeks in the elements and it would start to rust and the wheels would seize up. After that there's not a lot you can do. Sure, you can take it to estates and they might be able to clean it up and fix it, but they might not consider that worthwhile. By then it might be easier and cheaper just to scrap it buy a new one; and the new chair would not be nearly as good because modern designs are rubbish compared to this one. By saving the chair I'd be saving them that expense; not to mention my brother HP's having to put up with substandard tools. A hospital wheelchair like that costs many hundreds of pounds, about as much as a high performance bicycle. Therefore I decided to take matters into my own hands. I returned the vehicle to the hospital myself. This was not easy. As I said, they're built for smooth hospital floors with no suspension or pneumatic tyres and so it bumped and vibrated badly as I pushed it along the street. I found it hard to manoeuvre over curbs and other obstructions. One of my clients offered to help me by putting it in the back of her car and driving with me to the hospital. I thanked her for the offer, but I knew it wouldn't fit. This model is designed exclusively for inpatient use and never for disabled people in the community. It was far too big and heavy to put into a car, and it had no way of folding or disassembling. I also abandoned my previous plan to take it on the bus. I wasn't sure the driver would let me and I'd have had a long wait at the stop on a Sunday; so I walked with it... I portered. It felt very nostalgic, especially when I reached the hospital itself and was wheeling it along the corridors. I had a text from my daughter asking: "Dad, why are you walking along Hollow Way pushing a wheelchair?" She had seen me pass from the window of her gym. I managed to take a short cut through an alleyway and gambled that the bike bars at the entrance to the Churchill Hospital would be wide enough to let me through with it. I delivered the wheelchair to the porters' lodge only to be told I was at the wrong hospital! This chair came from the JRH. The Churchill porters are under G4S and not Mitie; which is worse? These contractors tend to be all the same. I told my Extremely Proud and Dignified Brother Porters that I wasn't going to wheel it any further and asked them to arrange for ambulance transport to move it, which shouldn't be difficult. I spent a few minutes talking to my bother porters. I didn't recognize any of them; but I did get the selfie you see below with MEP&DBP Izzu. After that I left the vehicle by the main entrance where they're supposed to be stored. Mission accomplished!

One of Our Wheelchairs is Missing!

 

Yesterday I had an amazing experience. I was walking through a small park in Donnington, Oxford, close to where I used to live, when I came across the weirdest thing imaginable. I felt like how the characters in the film Close Encounters of the Third Kind must have felt when they came across aeroplanes and a full-sized ship in the middle of a desert. In this case it was an equally incongruous apparition, a second generation Roma Medical Aids hospital wheelchair just sitting there in the middle of the park, right in the area marked out as a football pitch. See the photographs above and below which I took. How it got there I cannot imagine. Maybe the aliens in Steven Spielberg's classic movie and real and they scooped up the chair from one of the OxRad hospitals, maybe with a patient in it whom they abducted, and dumped the vehicle from their flying saucer along with the planes of the lost Flight 19 and SS Cotopaxi. I assume they will come back to earth in fifty years to return the patient, who will be the same age as they are now. I'm not sure which hospital it came from because there is no plate on it to identify it; unlike in my day when every chair had on it "JRH PORTERS". It has a Mitie sticker, but unfortunately the latest tin pot contractor brought in specially to trash the service is everywhere, see: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2021/11/the-mitie-hps.html. I made a guess that it was the JR and called the porters there. I had to go through a long and complicated maze of automated voices before I finally managed to speak to a brother porter. It was not somebody I recognized. I told him about the wheelchair and ended the call with "I used to be one of you; pride and dignity!" I do hope they come and collect the chair soon. That model is actually one of the best. It's a neat, manoeuvrable and compact front wheel steering vehicle. Note the shopping trolley style lock chain to stop them being taken by members of the public. It's an adaptation of the old Bristol Maid design, see: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2023/11/acute-care-vehicles-2-second-generation.html. This is not the first time this has occurred. Back in the 2000's I once had to rescue a wheelchair from Headington Conservative Club, a good half mile from the John Radcliffe. Again, its enigmatic teleportation remains unsolved to this day.

"Forget it!"

 

Whenever I ask somebody what is the most annoying thing another person do they can always give me an answer, and it varies with different individuals. For me it is probably when a stranger says something to me that I can't hear. I am not deaf, but sometimes they speak indistinctly or there is a lot of background noise. I ask them to repeat it and if they do I still sometimes can't hear them and ask again. At that point, or sometimes after a third try, some people will just wave me away impatiently and groan "forget it!", as if it's my fault; as if I'm somehow deficient for not having the ears of a bat and can pick up their slurred mumblings from forty feet away. This happened to me a few days ago. I was walking past a house in Rose Hill, Oxford and a woman stuck her head out of the door and did just those things and then slammed the door in my face. About twenty minutes later I was walking past her house in the opposite direction and sang one of my HP songs in a loud voice:
Porters' Dignity
Porters' Dignity
Porters' Dignity
And Porters' Dignity
Porters' Dignity
Oh, Porters' Dignity
Porters' Dignity
And Porters' Dignity

Porters' Pride
Porters' Pride
Porters' Pride
And Porters' Pride
Porters' Pride
Oh, Porters' Pride
Porters' Pride
And Porters' Pride

I'm sure she heard that! It's the same one I've sung doing other dig stats, for example: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2017/11/fantastic-dignity-statement.html. I consider this possibly my finest civilian dignity statement.

Kettle Canning

 

Unusually for me, there is no rant in this article, no incitement to moral crusade. This is purely a practical tip for hospital porters; who, like many of us, have no microwave oven or any other means to cook food in their lodge. Sadly management frequently fails to condescend to provide us with such an appliance. Several HP's have independently invented a substitute method, including me. I call it "kettle canning". It only works with canned food. This is how to do it. Place the can in a kettle. Fill the kettle to a level where the can is completely submerged. Boil it and then let it stand for a few minutes; boil it again after about three minutes. Pour the water away down a sink, taking care not to splash the hot water in a way that could hurt people. Then take out the can; it will probably be too hot to handle with bare hands and you'll need a glove, cloth or a wad of tissue. The label will probably come off during the process so make sure the wet paper is not left in the kettle. Wash out the kettle so it can be used again, open the can and enjoy.

All Labour Requires Intelligence

 

The Russian-American philosopher and author Ayn Rand has come up on the HPWA before. In the background links below you'll see where her work has previously influenced this project. In her novels there is a powerful message against snobbery. Many of the heroes have a working class background, most notably Howard Roark. The main characters all have friends in so-called "less important" professions; the man who runs the cigarette kiosk at the railway station, the trusty metal workers at Hank Reardon's factory, the stowaway on the train, the typewriter technician in the first chapter of Atlas Shrugged etc. This is proof that one does not have to be leftwing to champion the welfare of the rank-and-file citizens. I've found that of all the people I have encountered, both personally and by repute, Ayn Rand is one of the few who would truly have understood me when I say I'm proud to be a hospital porter. In this audio recording you can hear Rand describe her thoughts personally, see: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zFCnxjPk64. This was made in October 1980 during an interview for The Raymond Newman Journal. As a former hospital porter I approve of this message. As she says, all labour requires intelligence and being "lower" does not make you less worthy. There is nothing wrong at all with saying: "I am proud to do..." whatever your occupation is, even if it is one with low conventional social status. There is no such thing as a menial job; jobs are either done well or they are done badly.
See here for background: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2025/03/he-loved-his-work.html.
And: https://hpanwo.blogspot.com/2018/11/we-living-by-ayn-rand.html.

Xmas Idea

 

It may only be November, but the modern world moves fast and Christmas is coming soon, it seems. Therefore now it is timely to wonder what present you will buy for the hospital porter who seems to have everything. There is a fashion meme going round at the moment which centres on the slogan: "It's a porter thing; you wouldn't understand." I'm not sure where this catchphrase originated or what "porter" refers to. I thought it might mean Porter ale, but it doesn't specifically. That fount of universal wisdom, Google AI, cannot identify where it originated. Despite this it has appeared on a wide variety of merchandize, such as this hat: https://mfamilyhub.com/products/Porter-thing-washed-baseball-cap and illustrated above. Also this jersey: https://seseable.co.uk/products/its-porter-thing-wouldnt-understand-family-name-women-sweatshirt-g7oj8jM9K9Ie. The good news also comes from Google AI, because I asked it: "Could it apply to hospital porters?" and the response was: "Yes, the phrase could easily apply to hospital porters. While the phrase 'It's a Porter thing; you wouldn't understand' primarily appears online as a personalized name-based meme, for people with the surname or first name 'Porter'; it is also used in a professional context. You can find merchandise such as mugs and t-shirts featuring this specific slogan aimed at hospital porters, highlighting the specific, often challenging and varied, duties of the job that other hospital staff might not fully appreciate; such as moving patients, equipment, hazardous waste, deceased patients, etc. This is different from other types of porters, such as hotel porters or baggage porters. In this context, the 'porter thing' refers to the shared experiences, inside jokes, unique challenges, and essential role that people in that specific profession understand, which those outside the role; e.g. doctors, nurses, administration etc, would not. It is a light-hearted way for a specific group of workers to acknowledge their unique contribution and camaraderie." What can I say except... copy that! So I think we have the perfect stocking filler for that wonderful HP in your life who's bored with getting new pairs of socks or cheap supermarket Scotch every year. Surprise and delight him in Christmas 2025!

Clock Change

 

In the early hours of this morning, Sunday the 26th of October, all clocks in Britain will be wound back one hour. 01:59:59 will be followed by 01:00:00, not 02:00:00 as it normally does. This is common practice across much of the world, mostly in countries lying in the temperate or polar zones of the planet. Its purpose is to make the evenings as long and bright as possible. This has always caused a few problems for many people, especially in the NHS. As a twenty-four-seven operation we are working during the moment of this change which means service people on nightshift tonight will have to work an extra hour. The portering nightshift is 10 PM to 6 AM which is eight hours; but tonight we'll be working nine. We will not get paid for that extra hour. Unions have been trying for years to remedy that discrepancy, but management reply with: "Well in spring when the clock goes forward you work seven hours and get paid for eight so it's as broad as it's long." However there's no guarantee the same porters will be on nightshift on both occasions. We also have to be careful with log records during that extra hour, making sure to add the labels to every time stamp: (BST) for British Summer Time and (GMT) for Greenwich Mean Time. As for the early shift, that always relieves the nightshift at 6 AM regardless... or it should. When the clocks go forward in spring many members of the early shift will turn up at 7 AM and say: "Did the clocks go forward? Damn! I forgot about that." Are they just saying that as an excuse to turn up late? Probably. How do I know? Because I can bet that not a single porter will forget about the clocks going back tomorrow morning and turn up an hour early.