Madam, - My father, Michael Whelan, died suddenly this month He had had a low-grade form of cancer for some time, but my family and me were still looking forward to having at least another two or three months with him in our lives.
He was rushed by ambulance to AE at University Hospital, Galway an oxygen mask affixed to his face. He clung on to life for a number of hours before succumbing. His torment was a terrible thing for my brothers and me to behold. All we could do to lessen his agony was repeatedly tell him how much we loved him.
But this letter is not about my father; it is about our much maligned health service. Reading the papers or listening to the broadcast media, one might conclude that every hospital in the country was a ramshackle place rife with deadly organisms polluting the air, incompetent staff and appalling facilities.
For two years my father was a regular visitor to the oncology day ward, where the young doctors in Dr O'Dwyer's team were simply superb whether Irish, African, Sri Lankan, Indian, Pakistani or from other parts of the globe. Their attention to detail in figuring out the appropriate treatment for the very elderly man in their care, their deep concern coupled with a determination to get everything exactly right in terms of his recovery was a wonderful thing to behold.
As to the nursing staff, they were in a class by themselves; their solicitude, kindness, warmth, and good humour made everyone's experience a better one. Then, on that fateful weekend night, with the scene in AE like something out of ER, again the staff were magnificent. Kindness and love once more abounded, making the terrible hours we spent there just a little easier.
This, then, was my father's and my family's experience. I'm sure others could write contradictory accounts of what they have had to endure, and I am sorry for them. But in my father's case, I am very thankful indeed. - Yours, etc,
KEVIN WHELAN, Salthill, Galway.