Hansard

We welcome all that Nicola Sturgeon has said today in her speech and her interventions, including the MRSA pilot that she announced, in what has been a useful debate on a matter on which there is often more fresh heat than fresh thought. This is one of those problems for which there is a commonsense remedy that is all too often absent, or the message is in danger of becoming overcomplicated in its delivery.

My experience of being a hospital patient is relatively recent, as an accident and emergency admission within the NHS with what turned out to be a fairly routinely diagnosed complaint of gall stones one year and kidney stones the next. After treatment had helped alleviate the immediate discomfort, I found it fascinating just to watch. So much is made of the experience of patients by politicians that—admittedly, this is almost a perverse logic—it was almost a privilege to be a politician who was also the patient.

It was fascinating to watch the endless stream of individuals who strolled through the men's general surgical ward. There were committed public servants going about their business and there were patients and their families. The newspaper trolley man was astonished and unable to oblige when I requested The Herald—he ensured that the ward was made aware of the special delivery for "the professor" the next day to my bed in a window corner. There was the self-evident suspicion of fellow patients at the various baskets and bowls of spring bulbs that were delivered to the same corner—it was seemingly further evidence of, at the very least, some extravagant erudition.

There was the delight of the man opposite me, whose colostomy bag burst frequently in the night, or of the Irishman in the bed next to me, who did a runner because, as he confided to me, "The Southern general makes a much better job of drilling open a seized rear end." He was replaced by a young gentleman substantially the worse for wear after a Scotland match, whose excessively noisy comeuppance through the night was less than endearing. The hospital porters arrived, like buses, all at once—sometimes to ferry patients who had blocked a bed throughout the day and night for a routine X-ray, after which they could be discharged, but who as a result of lack of organisation lingered on, so other patients could not be admitted.

The staff—nurses, doctors, consultants, deliverers of meals and cleaning staff—were all doing their best, and the other patients were an on-going delight. There was the disembodied conversation heard over the partitions between an elderly man, who asked, "When did you get in, son?" and a recent arrival, who responded, "Just the day, big man, and no for long. And yersel?" "1952", came the reply. There was a daily procession of visitors, family and friends.

Not once, on either admission, did I hear anyone being challenged, or asked, to wash or sterilise their hands or not sit on the beds, nor was I ever savaged by a tie—the poor defenceless tie, around which now can be heard the clamour of indignant outrage as it is identified as the source of all infection. Ties, if worn, were tucked away within a coat or a jersey.

It seems to me that the most obvious action is the one that is least applied—washing or sterilising hands. In part, that seemed to me to be because there was no dragon enforcing the rule. I know that Conservatives have in the past called for matron, and I hope and believe that that has been for practical reasons and not just to fantasise about the swish of uniformed authority—I look over my shoulder, but no, she is not here. What is needed is a figure who has both the authority and confidence to bawl at anyone—patient, visitor, visiting politician, nurse, doctor or consultant—that they should wash or sterilise their hands and not sit on the beds. It appears that there are currently too many different chimney stacks of employee accountability and that in this grievance-rich age no one is able or prepared to take the risk of assuming overall command.

In saying all that, I accept that developments in medicine now keep us on the go until a greater age, often when hospitalised and with longer recovery times, and that our potential exposure in wards for longer and in a weakened state is a consequence of that. Therefore, when the BMA tells us that

"compliance with hand hygiene among professionals varies as a result of a lack of understanding of the associated risks and a lack of knowledge of the basic guidelines",

I cannot help but feel that there is considerable window dressing of a perfectly simple and straightforward concept: people should wash or sterilise their hands regularly and thoroughly. For hospital professionals, doing that and addressing the associated issues that Irene Oldfather raised should be as routine as is putting on a seatbelt for the driver of a car.

I have sympathy with the BMA's concern about inappropriate prescribing of antibiotics. I read its briefing on that subject and instantly recognised my mother, who—like Jamie Stone's mother—is a serial attendee of her local general practitioner, with an unshakeable belief that an antibiotic is the cure for all ills, from something genuinely serious to a blocked kitchen sink. There is a widespread belief that, even if an antibiotic is inappropriate, no harm can be done, yet those who prescribe them must know that harm is being done, as resistances are diminished. Again, public education is important, but the resolve of the medical profession in the face of what sometimes amounts to badgering is necessary, too.

In general, we believe the Government to be sincere in its objectives and we will support it today and will watch with interest the emerging outcomes. If the measures are successful, they will be a considerable achievement that will benefit the NHS hugely. I started by saying that common sense ought to be the rule but, as I have observed before, the problem with common sense is that it is not very common. The challenge for the Government is to make it so.

I hope that I have not made light of the subject. My sister-in-law—a mother of three in her 40s—is in the later stages of facing the cruel fate of the complications arising from untreatable breast cancer. Her journey has been made all the more stressful and grim by a hospital-acquired infection along the way. For that reason alone, I hope that the Government's announcements have a successful outcome.