I’d like to share a story with you, dear blog reader, about NHS Direct. This is partly due to my hurtie leg problem (see Owie, Ouchie or Hurtie post) but also my desire to share my general opinion of this service. I’ve called NHS Direct a dozen times over the last several years and the quality of service has ranged from perfect professionalism to abysmal joke.
It should be noted that some of these events are completely false – a riot of fictional inaccuracies. However, some are not – behind every dirty lying troll is a fairy of honesty. Either way this is what I’m reporting.
About 2 years ago it was announced that the NHS Direct service will be shut down within a matter of weeks and replaced with 4 phone lines in an abandoned BBC broom cupboard manned by immigrant midget’s who don’t speak English. Excellent news, doncha think? What a smart move by our poorly elected government.
With this brilliant revelation made by the new coalition gang, I mean government, I decided to go undercover and get a job as an NHS Direct call centre operator to find out how this move was being received by the staff and what it was really like working as a professional medical technician. I’ll tell you now, it was a hoot!