The NHS is in a tight spot, with rising costs, collapsing hospitals and growing demand. But how, without increasing taxes or public borrowing, can the NHS escape these difficulties? The problem is not going to go away; in fact it will get worse as baby boomers like me hit their 70s and refuse to be fobbed off with long waiting lists. I’m just back from nine days in Lithuania, where I discovered the hidden benefits of medical tourism.
My inguinal hernia had grown over the last year to a size where it could no longer be ignored. I’ll spare you the details, but my GP said; ‘Oh, that’s a large one,’ and promptly referred me to Ipswich hospital to get it fixed. What he said next worried me. He explained that the waiting list for surgery was at least a year, so not to worry, unless something nasty happened, in which case to take myself to A&E.
My kids told me to get it done privately, but that was going to cost me around £4,000, more if I opted for keyhole surgery, which means faster recovery time and fewer risks. I can well remember when that was my annual salary, so I just could not bring myself to blow that much on private medical treatment. I’d heard about medical tourism, so thought I’d do some research. I quickly discovered that the cost of treatment on mainland Europe was around half the cost in the UK.
Then I made a remarkable discovery
One of the places I contacted, the Nord Clinic in Kaunas, Lithuania’s second city, told me that if I could provide a GP referral letter, and if their consultant considered my surgery urgent, and if the NHS waiting list locally was long, I could get my treatment part funded by the NHS. I looked no further, and was invited to email one of their surgeons, Dr Daukša, some graphic images. I’ve never been one for taking selfies, but took a few images that prompted the response that yes, this was an urgent case.
Because Nord Clinic is the private wing of a public hospital, EU citizens from any member state can opt to go there and be funded by their home health service. Of course Brexit means we’ve built a fence between the NHS and EU hospitals, but I was introduced to a small gap, through which I could secure around half the cost of my treatment under an NHS scheme called S2.
I completed the online forms, and uploaded scans of my GP’s referral letter, Dr Daukša’s consultation report, and proof that I was British and lived in England. Processing can take four weeks I was told, so I booked my trip for six weeks and waited to see what happened.
Once happy with my application, the S2 wrote to the Integrated Care Board that funds Ipswich hospital to find out if the waiting list really was as long as I’d been led to believe. My application was approved in just a week and so I then had to wait for my visit.
A few weeks later I arrived at Kaunas airport
The clinic was impressive and the service slick. My wife and I were collected from the airport in a liveried people carrier, and the next morning, I was taken to the clinic for blood tests and an ECG. The following day it was back to the clinic at 0745 where I was shown to a private room and given one of those gowns to wear that tie up at the back.
Minutes later the surgeon visited, and then the anaesthetist, and shortly afterwards I was led to the operating theatre, invited to climbed onto the table, had my legs strapped down and a cannula stuck in my arm. I was apprehensive, and could not help but think how this must be similar to the execution chamber of a US penitentiary.
Then I woke up, and found I was back in my bed
I looked down and saw three dressings on my tummy, one just above my navel and one to each side. I hesitantly put my hand down to find that the hernia had gone. Two hours later I was walking round the room, and once the surgeon had popped in to see how I was doing, I was given lunch and an endless supply of cappuccinos. I discovered Britten’s Peter Grimes on YouTube on the TV in my room, and settled down with a good book.
The next morning I saw the surgeon again, who was happy to discharge me, so I was taken back to the Radisson. The hotel is conveniently located yards from a long tree-lined traffic-free boulevard, along which were a good number of restaurants and cafes. Each day I walked a little further and on day five I walked some 10 kilometres with no pain and little discomfort.
On the day we flew home, I had one last meeting with the surgeon, who had a good feel round and used an ultrasound scanner to check inside, before we were taken back to the airport for our flight home.
Why do we still think the NHS is the best health service in the world?
I mentioned that I was going to Lithuania for surgery to a friend who used to work for the NHS. She expressed concern that standards might not be as high as in the UK, and that I might live to regret taking the cheap option. But I’d done my homework and knew that my surgeon was not some barber who had attended evening classes in keyhole surgery, but a highly qualified, very experienced operator who also taught at the Kaunas medical school.
Others I met while there had travelled from across the UK, Ireland and even Canada for general and often orthopaedic surgery. All had been attracted by the combination of low cost, and great reputation. Nord Clinic courts publicity and so is often featured in press articles around the world. They carry out around 3,000 operations a year, and as I discovered, practice really does make perfect.
So what can we learn from my experience?
Well first, we need to grow up and realise that British is not always best and that other countries like Lithuania can provide world-class surgery. Second, we need to recognise that the vast swathe of the NHS waiting list of impatient patients that haunts politicians and overruns our hospitals could be dramatically reduced if more people knew about the S2 route. To me it’s a pragmatic middle ground between the horribly long waits for NHS treatment and the eye-wateringly costly local private treatment. I also suspect that those who work the budgets at Suffolk and North Essex Integrated Care Board know that the €1,000 the NHS paid for my operation is a lot less than it would cost them for even the simpler cut and stitch option at Ipswich hospital.
So that’s a win for the NHS, a win for me, and a win for Lithuania too.
