Eric Knowles Matron, Medicine and Me: 70 Years of the NHS

70 years ago, plans for a revolution took place

that changed all our lives in Britain.

We are out to improve the health of every family

and the whole nation.

Its name - the National Health Service.

We're taking a look at the NHS - then and now...

Adrenaline...

That's six adrenaline...

..to see how much it's changed.

Is that real?

To meet staff and patients...

Let me help you out.

Sorry, it's my first day here.

..with extraordinary medical stories.

-You died, basically.

-For three minutes, yes.

It's quite emotional to see you. Thank you.

Surprise!

-ALL:

-Surprise!

I'm Eric Knowles and when I was a child, I spent a lot of time

in hospital, seriously ill.

Today, I'll be making a return in a real antique of the road.

It's a beast of a vehicle, isn't it?

I'll finally find out what was wrong with me

using the latest technology.

-Oh, gosh.

-Cells which we call leukemic cells...

And I will meet people who, while not being as fortunate as I was,

are definitely a lot braver.

You have your good days and your bad days, but eventually,

time will get me back to where I was.

'As one of the longest-serving experts on the Antiques Roadshow,

'I get a lot of pleasure looking at the stuff that has

'survived the test of time.'

There is a good few cups in that...

50 cups, 50 cups.

I just turned 63 this year, so you might say I am well on my way

to becoming an antique myself!

But there was a time in my life, believe it or not,

when it was thought that I might not even make my tenth birthday.

'The reason I nearly didn't make it to my tenth birthday

was that when I was nine, I was rushed to hospital

with suspected leukaemia.

It was a traumatic experience,

and it's the memory of what I went through and how I was looked after

that has prompted me to take part in this programme.

The idea of getting behind the scenes in the NHS, erm...

Well, to be frank with you, it's a wonderful opportunity.

And I am just intrigued to know how things work.

And, more importantly, I want to meet the people

who make it work.

My story of Matron, Medicine and Me starts here in Burnley.

This is the area where I grew up and where I first got ill.

On this very street, in fact.

Well, we moved to the street in round about... I think about 1954

or something like that and we stayed here until about 1970.

So, this is our house.

And it really is in the middle of the street.

This is where I spent my formative years,

from being a toddler, I suppose, all the way through

to being a teenager and a little bit beyond.

My bedroom, top left-hand corner - it might be described as cosy!

We were quite blessed growing up in this part

of north-east Lancashire.

We would go on walks and, basically, you would get your duffel bag

and a bottle of corporation pop,

which, of course, translates into water.

A few sandwiches.

And your mother would say, "Don't come back before five o'clock."

'In April 1962, those carefree days came abruptly to an end.

'I started to feel really ill. I don't remember much,

'but I do remember the whole street watching as I was taken to hospital

'in an ambulance.

'I would be there for six weeks.'

The man who mostly looked after me while I was in hospital

was a legendary Burnley paediatrician, now passed on,

called Dr Winston Turner.

'And it wasn't just me he cared for, it was also my parents,

'who needed all the help they could get.'

I remember my mum saying, "It will only be for a couple of days or so,"

and all that sort of thing.

And, obviously, she was being economic with the truth.

How on earth my parents must have felt

having been told there is a very strong chance

that your lad has got leukaemia...

Because, way back then...

that was a death sentence, back in '62.

'Being a dad myself, thinking about the worry my parents

'must have suffered, is bringing back all sorts of feelings.

'It's like being back in time.' SIREN WAILS

'In fact, I think I'm hearing things!'

SIREN WAILS

What is that?

'But, no, this is real.

'A surprise laid on by the producers.'

I don't believe it.

Is that real?

Is he real?

You obviously haven't got a sat nav,

because you're from Herefordshire County Council.

-Hello, I'm Eric. Hello, what's your name?

-John.

-John.

HE LAUGHS Well, nice to meet you!

They say life is full of surprises.

That's a monster machine.

-Can I have a look around it?

-By all means.

-Thank you.

By jingo, that was built to last, wasn't it?

'Seeing inside the ambulance...' Wonderful.

'..is bringing it all back.'

Yes, I remember that bit. It is just the little things,

only just.

Ah, yeah.

This is a posh one, because it has got lino.

-It's getting worn out now.

-Yeah, I can see.

'It's a cracking vehicle and totally authentic to the one

'that transported me to hospital all those years ago.

'But it's not just the ambulance that's the real thing -

'John the driver is, as well.'

So, you actually drove this type of ambulance yourself

-in the 1960s?

-Yes.

-Really?

In that uniform?

It has changed a little bit, but, yes, basically, this uniform.

I tell you what, I might be pushing my luck a bit here,

-but any chance that we can take this out for a spin?

-Why not?

Excellent.

-What do you get to the gallon?

-About ten miles to the gallon.

Ten miles to the gallon.

My goodness me.

The initial 1946 NHS Act required local authorities

to provide ambulances rather than central government.

Run by volunteers, the early ambulances' only purpose

was transport, with no provision for medical treatment.

Emergency first aid was often provided at the scene

by doctors following close behind.

-REPORTER:

-'This doctor set off hot on the heels of an ambulance

'to a typical emergency call to an outlying farm.

'And this is as far as the ambulance can get.

'But these fellows, skilful and careful as they are,

'will lose no time, for they, too, cover tremendous distances.'

'This changed in 1964, two years after my trip to hospital,

'when the Miller Report recommended the Ambulance Service

'should also provide emergency treatment.'

Anybody see this happen?

'In 1974, ambulances and staff came under central NHS control,

'and by the '90s, staff with extended training

're-qualified as paramedics.

'The design of vehicles has also changed a lot, but in the '60s,

'the Bedford J1 reigned supreme.'

SIREN

'This particular model is from 1967,

'and it is still in perfect working order.'

Bet Jenson Button hasn't got a gear stick like that.

I bet he hasn't.

Looks like I'm on direction duty.

Right turn, right turn.

There we go.

Oh!

Wow.

-It doesn't have safety belt, this one, does it?

-No.

-No.

Wow.

'It's certainly not the smoothest of rides.'

It's not as though you could ever put the radio on in here

and listen to anything gentle.

-We had to listen to that, though.

-Oh, this is your...?

That was one of the original radios.

-Z-Victor 1 to Z-Victor 2.

-Oh, you watched Z-Cars!

We've got some villains going down the East Lancashire roads.

-Intercept.

-Must be Yorkshiremen!

Bandits. Bandits from Barnsley.

What's the top speed?

I mean, don't do it, but tell me, what is the top speed?

-The top speed when they were new, we could get 70 no problem.

-Wow.

They wobble a bit on the front.

Then they vibrate in the back.

-Yes.

-You get somebody who is really poorly-poorly,

you know, broken bones and things, they don't want it vibrating.

'I'm glad I went up front today.

Last time I was actually in an ambulance like this,

obviously I was lying in the back, so I don't remember the journey,

but the journey that we are doing now

is following exactly the same route.

But as we get around this corner,

we will be approaching where Marsden Hospital used to be.

This is the entrance on our left now.

And they now call this area Marsden Heights.

What is going on there, what is that, I wonder?

-Is that the old Marsden Hospital sign?

-Yeah, it looks like....

We could go here, say we are looking for Marsden Hospital.

We've been driving around since 1967.

HE LAUGHS

Marsden Hospital began as a workhouse infirmary back in 1899.

It was taken over by the NHS in 1948

and was closed in 1992.

The land was sold to developers, and all that's left now

is what I can only guess is one of the old window frames.

The main hospital in Burnley today is Burnley General

and it's where we are heading now.

Slowly, and bumpily, and, if I'm honest, slightly scarily.

'The main A&E for the area is now in Blackburn,

'but there's an emergency care unit here

'and, luckily, parked outside is a modern ambulance.'

'Time to compare the beasts - with a paramedic of today,

'Sandra Hartley, and my driver, John Howard Judson.'

-Hello.

-Hello!

-That's quite an impressive machine.

Can we do a deal?

If you allow us to have a look around yours,

you can have a look around... dare I say, ours.

-Yes, that's fine.

-OK.

Thank you.

-Wow.

-There you go.

State of the art, yes.

It is an expensive piece of kit.

-It is like a little mobile hospital, to be fair.

-I can imagine.

-Yeah.

-What does that cost?

-A fortune.

-A fortune?

-Yes.

-OK, all right.

I can appreciate that. But it's all there, isn't it? You've got...

We've got the stretcher

and we've also got carry chairs and a wheelchair.

A defibrillator there,

so, obviously, somebody who's having a heart attack or whatever,

we can revive them, bring them back to life, hopefully.

Anything you want, bandages and splints and all sorts.

-Well, having seen today, would you like to go back in time?

-Yes.

Oh, my word.

There's nothing in it!

DOOR CRASHES

'That'll take a few quid off the value.'

There's nothing there!

There is, honestly.

What's in the box under there?

-That's our resuscitator.

-Your resuscitator?

-Yes.

-Ah. Have you got any drugs and things?

-No drugs? No?

-No. We were allowed Entonox.

What's in there?

-It's splints.

-What? Some splints?

-Yeah.

If you've got your broken leg...

..that's where it goes.

No!

And eight bandages fasten it.

'Now, time to do my Antiques Roadshow bit.'

You know, I fully recognise that the modern ambulance today

is state-of-the-art,

but when I look back at a vehicle like this,

and I look at the contours on it,

it's almost a piece of sculpture,

insofar as it's got more aesthetic appeal to me.

And, of course, I'm always being accused of

having my head in the past, it's what I do for a living,

but in this case, I'm very grateful to this machine because without it,

I might never have had a past.

'After arriving in the ambulance, I would go on to spend

'six weeks in hospital, being pricked and prodded

'like an old vase, while they tried to work out what was wrong with me.

'If I'm honest, hospitals back in the early '60s

'weren't the best of places for kids.

'Some hospitals did lay on special events but there was definitely

'nothing as exciting as this going on at the Marsden.'

All I remember is nurses in scary starch uniforms,

stern-looking matrons and uncomfortable beds.

This is the bed of today.

It differs significantly from the bed I remember.

This bed, I'm reliably informed,

will set you back between £3,000 and £5,000 for a bed.

Now, all I remember about my bed is it was painted metal,

er, it was relatively high.

I was in an isolation ward, and one big memory of hospital

is being lonely and bored.

But despite suffering from something that would take weeks to diagnose,

I don't remember being scared.

There was a certain advantage I found of being in hospital,

there was a definite perk, because people brought you toys.

And I was deluged with some seriously good toys.

I mean, for example, I've still got them today.

Yes, I've kept them.

This is Chipperfield Circus.

I mean, you know, that's the sort of thing you would look at

in a toy-shop window and dream about owning.

I've just noticed there's an occupant.

Here he is!

That poor chap's been trapped in there for 50 years.

I hid these, I slept with them under my bedclothes.

In fact, it was quite a narrow bed.

There wasn't much room for me to fit in that bed.

Who knows? Maybe it was while I was in hospital playing with my toys

that I became a budding antique dealer.

But when I wasn't playing Circus, chances are I was being tested

as they tried to work out why I had a constant fever

and was losing so much weight.

When I left hospital, I weighed just three stone.

But there was good news.

What they thought might be leukaemia turned out to be glandular fever.

How they could mix up the two illnesses

has always remained something of a medical mystery to me.

So, I've come to the Royal Blackburn Hospital

to visit the main blood-testing laboratory for the area.

'I'm meeting consultant haematologist Dr Margaret Rokicka

'to find out more about the science behind misdiagnosis

'and whether such a worrying mistake could happen today.'

So, why should it be, back in 1962, that glandular fever

and something as serious as leukaemia

would be mistaken for the other?

Yeah, because they are very similar symptoms.

You are very ill, you have temperature,

you have enlarged glands and you have usually very sore throat.

Now, we can test whether actually glandular fever,

which is viral disease.

-It takes five minutes.

-Five minutes?

-Five minutes.

-I was in there for weeks!

-Yes.

'It's blowing my mind that today a simple five-minute test

'could've saved weeks of my parents' worrying.

'Just five minutes to diagnose a virus and rule out leukaemia.'

When you are ill, an infection you have,

you will produce, your body will react with antibodies.

So, this measures your body's reaction to the virus.

Back in the '60s, most blood testing was carried out manually.

Blood samples would be examined under a microscope

by experienced haematologists.

With the electron microscope,

we can take pictures of most viruses.

It was a laborious process but, by the end of the '60s,

six years after my stay in hospital,

the white heat of technological progress

was poised to come to the rescue.

-REPORTER:

-'This is a machine that could

'make a great deal of difference to the nine out of ten people

'who go for their treatment to a family doctor.

'It finds out if anything's wrong with you by analysing your blood.

'It's still being tested,

'but it looks like being able to do in one hour

'what a team of a dozen laboratory workers take a week to do.'

Labs have come a long way since the '60s.

Today, automation and fancy machines mean the team at Blackburn

look at an average of 5,000 samples a day.

Some of the machines here can carry out a complete analysis

of a blood sample, from aspiration to result, in just one minute.

Some work with microscopes is, of course, still necessary,

so, while the glandular fever test continues to count down,

Dr Rokicka is going through how my mix-up could have happened

by showing me microscopic images of blood cells.

These cells on the left is typical for glandular fever.

OK.

But there can be other nasty cells, which we will see now.

You can compare these glandular fever cells

with actually deadly acute leukaemia cells.

So, that was the way that diagnosis was made back in the '60s.

We only relied on the appearance of cells.

Since my time in hospital, it's obvious diagnosis has become

so much faster and more reliable.

Talking of speed, the five minutes

for our glandular-fever test is nearly up.

-BEEPING

-OK.

Here we are. We have a result,

and you can clearly see that there are two bars here,

which means that this is positive test

which means that the body and blood was infected by the virus.

Today has offered me almost a sense of closure on this issue,

because it was always in the back of the mind that maybe,

if things had gone the wrong way, I wouldn't be here today.

I was lucky, of course.

Back in 1962, if I HAD been diagnosed with childhood leukaemia,

it would have almost certainly have been a death sentence.

And yet, over the decades,

there's been a revolution not just in diagnosis,

but treatment, and even cure rates, too.

Not that it's an easy thing, by any means.

The treatment can still be long and painful.

And no-one knows this better than Jennifer Miller.

She was diagnosed last year, and she's been fighting ever since.

Initially, I was kept in for six weeks.

-Six weeks?

-Six weeks I was in isolation, yeah, I was in a room

and I wasn't allowed to leave.

-No?

-It makes you really, really poorly.

-Yeah.

And I just didn't eat. Sleep, that's all I wanted to do.

It's obviously something very difficult to come to terms with,

but how did you manage to deal with this mentally?

Not very well, really. It's hard to deal with.

When I was in hospital, I kind of plodded through

because I was in a hospital

and people were the same, but now, it's so hard.

It is so hard.

Like, people look at me and think, "You look good,

"you should be good," but...

I'm not.

-Not inside my head, I'm not.

-You're not?

-No.

And what other type of support have you been given?

On the unit we have a social worker and we are also given a named nurse.

The team, the nurses up there are just so...so good.

And they're able to talk to you and help you because they understand it.

So, there's music workshops that you can go to, and art workshops.

I personally like the music because I can go and that helps me

to forget, it helps.

You have your good days and your bad days

and you've just got to try and make the good days more than bad days.

-But, eventually, time will get me back to where I was.

-Excellent.

On that note, I'd just like to wish you

-lots and lots and lots and lots of good days.

-Thank you.

It was good to talk to Jen today, who can now look forward

to a brighter future.

When I was her age, my future was the bright lights of London.

My first job on the way to fulfilling my dream of working

with antiques was as a porter at Bonhams Auction House.

It was tough old work but it taught me

that if you want to see how a place really works,

then you need to talk to those on the ground,

and I'm reliably informed it's pretty much the same in hospitals.

So, that's what I'm going to do today back at Burnley General.

-Good morning, gentlemen.

-Morning, you must be Eric.

'It's quarter to seven in the morning

'and I've arrived bright and early

'to spend a shift with hospital porters Andy McHale and Steve Shaw.'

I'm here to learn, and the curve, I'm sure, is going to go like that.

-Brilliant.

-Yeah, very good.

-So, what next?

-First things first,

-the uniform.

-Uniform?

-Yes.

-All right.

So, what do you think, chaps?

-Very nice.

-Very smart, very smart.

Do you think I've got credibility now?

-You have, you have indeed.

-Excellent, excellent.

-So, what we're doing is we're taking these to the wards.

-OK.

'First job of the day, before my breakfast,

'is the patients' breakfasts.

'A lot of hungry people and not much time.'

So, how many of these trolleys do you do in the morning?

Just on the breakfast itself, probably 16, 17.

Morning, you all right?

'I'm already flagging after less than an hour.

'Steve and Andy have been here for 45 years between them.'

So, Andy, have you ever worked out

how many miles a day you walk around this hospital?

-About 12 mile, we average.

-12 miles?

On a five-day week, er, 60 miles a week.

400 a year plus the other two months, that's 2,088.

-LIFT:

-'Call in progress.'

Oh, call in progress, OK.

There are 43 porters at Burnley General

and, as I suspected,

they are as important here as they were at Bonhams.

But the cargo these guys have to shift

is a little bit different from what I'm used to.

-Limbs.

-Limbs?

-Yes, legs and arms and...

-They'll go in here?

-In one of these, yeah.

'It's been a long morning of fetching and carrying

'but I've worked hard enough to earn Andy and Steve's trust

'to collect a patient.'

LAUGHTER

-This is silly.

-Please don't run over the cameraman.

No, that's all right, this is seriously...

-I think it's just a knack, isn't it?

-It is.

-It's not as easy as it looks.

-No, it's not.

THEY LAUGH

I've told you, behave!

-OK.

-You all right with the chair, yeah?

Yeah, I'm getting more of the hang of it.

-There we go.

-Paul?

-Yeah, you all right?

I'm going to take you to ward six.

Paul, I need to ask you a question, are you fully insured?

-Yes, absolutely.

-Because you're going to need it with me.

-Fully comp.

-I'm a novice. I'm a novice on this one.

Well, I'm not going to get any prizes for guessing

what your problem has been.

-But do you want to elaborate?

-Yeah, I came in yesterday tea-time

with a really bad eye infection

and it was that bad that they wheeled me straight down

to the operating theatre and drained all the fluid off my eye.

Oh, my goodness.

-So, you've been in overnight, Paul, have you?

-I have, yeah.

I might be here tonight, as well.

Where are you going, Eric?

I can do it, I can do that, I can do that.

Turn round and go in backwards.

-Turn.

-OK, that's it.

-Don't worry, Paul.

We're all scared, don't worry. Here we go.

OK, yes.

Porters have been part of the NHS since its inception -

the unsung heroes who, over the years,

have struggled for fair recognition.

-REPORTER:

-'In a normal 40-hour week,

'Fred Wadsworth earns £21.56 gross.

'With overtime, he can earn £29.25.'

The satisfaction is that you're doing something for somebody.

At the same time, they appreciate it being done for them.

'It was hard work then, and this morning's taught me

'that it's hard work now.

'I'm wondering what Steve gets out of it today.'

-Do you enjoy your job?

-I do, I do, yeah, yeah, yeah.

I enjoy meeting the patients because they've got such funny stories.

Oh, especially the older ones,

because they tell you their age before you meet them.

-And you're a good listener?

-Oh, yes, definitely.

Yes, yes. Some of them are local and some of them are not, you see,

so you ask them where they come from and what they used to do

when they worked, when they used to work, or if they're retired.

And that's when they tell you their age.

They say, "I've been retired 30 years." "Never!"

But, yes, still enjoy it.

The downside is...bodies.

-Oh, right. The inanimate.

-Yes.

-The departed.

-Yes, the dear departed, yes.

-OK.

You're right, that must be hard.

-It's a bit of a tough call, isn't it?

-Well, it is, yeah, yeah.

But you've got to try and get over it, but I still remember them.

I have to admit, it's been something of a demanding day

insofar as I have walked quite a few miles

down never-ending corridors.

and it's slightly different to being a porter at Bonhams Auction House,

I'll tell you that.

But in another way, today I've been a very, very small cog

in an incredible machine and it's interesting to think

that I've made the tiniest of contributions

to an amazing organisation that is the NHS.

Coming from the North West means a lot to me

but it turns out I have a very specific NHS-related reason

to be proud of this area.

Just down the road in Manchester

is the first hospital where Health Minister Aneurin Bevan

officially launched the brand-new Health Service,

and that's where I'm off to now.

For many people, the launch of the NHS couldn't come soon enough.

The winter of 1947 was one of the coldest on record.

The UK was covered in snow and the Thames froze over,

and for people living in poor housing who couldn't afford heating,

infectious diseases were a real killer.

In this context, the NHS was seen as a bright new dawn.

-ADVERT:

-'It's all yours, whenever you want it,

'with your own choice of doctor.

'And that goes for the whole family.

'The scheme is comprehensive.

'It's not only to help you when you're ill

'but to help to keep you well.'

This is Trafford General today,

but back in 1948, it was the hospital

chosen for the PR launch of the NHS.

Bevan was treated like royalty

and was met here by a parade of NHS staff standing stiffly to attention.

I've downloaded some photos from the day

and, being a complete history nerd,

I'm determined to try and find the very spot

where it all started.

I have to say, though, it's proving to be harder than I thought.

These are the right buildings, it's just that

the photograph's taken from a slightly different perspective.

But does it matter?

No, not really, because I know that I'm within spitting distance

of where this photograph was taken

on such a historic occasion in 1948.

And you might think me a bit weird,

but that gives me something of a buzz.

Inside the hospital, there's more evidence

of this illustrious day,

including a photo of a 13-year-old girl

that became known as the first-ever patient of the NHS.

Come and look at this. This is Sylvia Beckingham,

the first NHS patient, and 13 years of age in 1948

and, what's more, she returns.

By then she had become, it says here, Sylvia Diggory,

and she unveils a plaque 40 years later.

What's more, she actually gave an interview

and I've got that interview here.

There's the girl, here's the interview.

He was charming, absolutely charming.

He had a very nice, lilting voice.

He spoke to me, you know, not as a child,

there was no speaking down.

He was pleasant to everyone, and he was absolutely euphoric.

He was a very happy man.

It's even more remarkable to think that that lady was actually present

in this hospital on that day.

It was a day history was made.

It all seems like quite a rosy picture,

but I've been around long enough

to know there's probably another side to this story.

So, to find out what really happened,

I'm meeting up with social historian Nick Hayes.

For me, it's quite exciting to be in the very hospital

in which the NHS was launched all those years ago.

Yeah, I can understand that.

It was a big day in some ways.

But, at the same time, it's actually quite a low-key launch.

-No brass bands? No dancing in the street?

-No, no brass bands.

Lots of photographs in the press afterwards,

but the coverage is not as extensive as you would think.

The truth is that the NHS had quite a painful birth.

For years, there had been plans and drafts and proposals,

but nothing had really been done about it.

It wasn't until the war that things changed.

We've been doing some hard thinking lately

and we haven't got to stop when this job's finished.

No more dirty, filthy backstreets

and no more half-starved kids with no room to play in.

We've got to pack all them up

and get moving out into the brightness of the sun.

And yet, while the people may have wanted it,

the doctors were quite another matter.

They weren't sure about the NHS at all.

They had been independent as a profession for, well, decades, centuries.

So, what they don't want is to be

turned into salaried employees of the state.

They want to retain their professional independence

in trying to decide the terms under which doctors

are going to be employed. It becomes bitter.

It becomes very public.

These discussions aren't played out in darkened rooms,

they're played out over the airwaves.

Britain's doctors, hospitals and health centres

come under state control

in the £152-million-a-year National Health Service Bill,

soon to come on the statute book.

Critics of a new charter for professional people and patients

centre on Harley Street, home of British medicine.

Your doctor must be your friend and servant.

Your freedom means our freedom.

Eventually, a compromise was reached

where the doctors maintained independence

in return for their cooperation.

The triumph for Bevan is that he actually gets

a nationalised health system but, of course, this is played out

in history in terms of mythologies.

Everybody likes heroes, and Bevan - particularly for the Labour Party -

becomes one of those heroes.

-BEVAN:

-'The Health Service started in an atmosphere of friction,

'of controversy, of doubt and of great hopes.

'There has gone on, in the past, a vast amount of silent suffering,

'a vast amount of remediable pain.

'And I believe, in Great Britain, we have made a great start.'

It's humbling to think that, just a few years later,

I would be one of the beneficiaries of the compromise that was reached.

But the passing decades have seen millions of people like me

right up to the present day.

I've come to the nearby Macmillan Wellbeing Centre

to meet Stella, her husband Michael, Celia and Murray

who each have been treated for cancer in the last few years.

I want to find out that little bit more about how things began,

how things progressed, and where we are today.

So, Celia, tell me, in your case, how did it all start?

I was diagnosed last July with breast cancer

after finding a lump that just kind of came out of the blue.

I was cross with myself because I thought,

"Should I have found this sooner?"

But then they just reassured me and said, "No, because, in essence,

"you found it in time and you did something about it."

It was early on this year, about March,

they sent me here for a scan to this hospital

and then it was like everything took off

because it was immediately diagnosed as blood cancer.

Lymphoma.

And it had gone so far, it would be incurable,

but was told straightaway it was eminently treatable,

so I had the horrible shock.

That's just the bad side.

The good side is the wonderful people I've met,

the other patients and the nurses and doctors.

And now, I feel better than I did before I got ill.

Me husband had been complaining of a sore throat.

What he hadn't told me was that he had been spitting out blood.

That's where your problems have been happening?

Yeah, yeah, throat cancer.

Which, traditionally, they were going to cut out

-and then they did it with six weeks of radiotherapy.

-Right.

The thing was, when he was diagnosed, here at the hospital,

the week after, I was told that I also had cancer.

I had bowel cancer and it took a little bit of getting used to

because it was just before Christmas, it was in December,

and we both said, "What a wonderful Christmas present(!)"

THEY CHUCKLE

Most of the group I have been talking to were treated

at the Christie in Manchester.

It's one of the largest cancer treatment centres in Europe

and has been at the forefront of care throughout the NHS's history.

This is from a film made in 1969.

-REPORTER:

-'There's no doubt that the reduction of other diseases

'in civilised society has highlighted cancer as a problem.

'And yet, apart from lung cancer amongst smokers,

'any individual's chance of surviving cancer

'at any particular age is better now than at any time in the past.'

Throughout its history, the NHS has made a big contribution

to the fight against cancer.

It was British doctors who proved the link between smoking

and lung cancer and, as treatments have been refined over the years,

the NHS has tried to keep up with advances,

although budgets are always an issue.

But in my experience, the treatment the Health Service gives

is only half the story.

It's the people that deliver it that count.

But, you know, the people who have been looking after you,

you know, we're talking NHS...

I mean, the NHS, for me,

is populated by countless superheroes.

I don't want to sound patronising, condescending.

No, the nurses at Christie's, they are specialists

and they're absolute angels, every one of them.

Right through from those on the reception desk,

doing the cleaning, right through to the consultant

was that caring aspect and even though they see so many people,

it feels as though you are that important one at that time

and you're special at that time.

The care has been beyond reproach. It's just...

I have to try and compare it with what the sort of care would be

if you were in a country where there wasn't national health.

With national health, you know they're not going to waste anything,

they're not going to make you think you need to have something done that doesn't,

so think of the utter faith you have and it works out.

So, it's obvious to me that all four of you,

you're well on this journey.

I just wanted to know,

what advice and encouragement are you able to offer?

No matter how bad your cancer is, or how, you know,

you just carry on with life, you've just got to carry on.

It's a gobsmacking, you-need-to-sit-down-type situation.

Cos you never think it will happen to you.

I think it's a very individual thing because everybody's cancer

is different and everybody's diagnosis is different

and depending on where you are on that journey

can make a big difference to you.

Cancer isn't like it was when I was a child.

You didn't hear of it very often, but when you did,

it was next to a death sentence.

Whereas now, I'm sure more people recover now.

Talking to that brave group of people has made me think back again

to my treatment all those years ago

and my stay in Marsden Hospital in Burnley.

It's been a fascinating few days finding out more about the NHS

then and now and revisiting that time.

This is the route I was taken on.

Before I finish this journey,

there is one person I would love to meet -

the paediatric doctor who looked after me,

Dr Winston Turner.

As a nine-year-old boy in the '60s, hospital was pretty lonely,

but he made a real difference.

It would be great to be able to say thank you.

'Unfortunately, he's no longer alive but, a few years ago,

'I did meet his daughter at an antique-glass event.'

-Hello, lovely to see you.

-Lovely to see you.

'So, to finish off my personal odyssey,

'I have arranged to call in for a quick coffee.'

The image of your father has never left my mind.

Unlike all the other doctors,

I don't remember him actually wearing a long white coat.

He hated white coats.

I mean, there is one photo there -

that is the only photo we've got of him in a white coat.

He knew children would be scared enough in hospital

and he didn't want to add to their stress.

I mean, everybody loved him.

Everybody knew him and it did make it difficult for me

when I was trying to go into pubs when I was underage

because people would know who I was

and word would get back to Mummy and Daddy

before I did.

THEY CHUCKLE

Which, you know, you didn't appreciate.

I think, sometimes, he saw his patients more

than he saw his children,

but he involved us in his work often.

I mean, at Christmas, we always used to go

round the hospitals in the morning.

We would open stockings here,

Mummy would put the turkey in the oven,

and then we would go out and take presents

to all the wards and he would make sure that every child

who was in hospital was all right over Christmas

because he didn't like them being in hospital.

If he could sort of let them home for Christmas, he would do.

So, what year did your father actually qualify?

He qualified in 1937.

That's a good few years before the National Health Service

was up and running.

I mean, how did he react,

somebody who was already in the system?

He was passionate about the NHS.

It had to be better - that people didn't have to count to see

if they've got enough money to see the doctor or to go to hospital.

I was thinking, I'd like to just give you a little bit of something,

which is a personal memento from me to you.

It's something which is very relevant

to my arrival in hospital.

I'll let you take it out of the bag.

Oh, thank you!

Oh, it's wonderful.

That is a very-near-looking model

of the very same ambulance that took me in

and, thankfully, brought me back from hospital.

And much of that, I know for a fact, is all down to the efforts

of your father and I will be forever grateful for everything that he did

for me and my parents.

Thank you so much.

Thank you so much for sharing a little bit more of your dad with me.

Well, thank you, it's been a pleasure to talk to you.

Well, the last few days have been both interesting and fascinating.

In my business, there's a lot to be said about knowing

the price of everything and the value of nothing.

But, as far as the NHS is concerned, one thing I have learned,

and that is, when it comes to value,

it really is a priceless organisation.