Life is what happens...

...when you're busy making other plans.

Found myself in the Accident and Emergency Department of Plymouth Hospital for what turned out to be a gruelling twenty hours while I waited to be admitted to a ward. These twenty hours were a fascinating experience in themselves. With the uncomfortable seats and a large group of strangers pressed together, all waiting under artificial lighting, it reminded me a lot of being in an airport when a flight has been delayed or cancelled. As I let go into the experience, it struck me how rich in drama the place was. As someone drolly commented, there were more police than doctors present. I was particularly amused when two policemen brought in a guy in handcuffs. He was grinning wickedly like he was enjoying the mischief. The three of them were all about five feet six inches, and had a general similarity about them. Suddenly the three of them, after a signal from the arrested guy, would walk in single file outside determinedly, presumably so he could vomit, then march straight back in again. Very Marx Brothers. This kept recurring throughout the night. Eventually the handcuffs were off and the trio had an easy amiability about them, as they chatted away, waiting for triage. When a nurse finally took me away to the ward, as we chatted I remarked about the A&E entertainment. 'Yes,' she agreed, 'it's like an Eastenders episode every night.'

Once admitted into the inner sanctums of the hospital, things were very different. Despite the circumstances there was an entirely different level of care available, and in its own way could be perfectly enjoyable. I told friends it was like being on a cruise ship where you don't know where you are going, but beautiful nurses called everyone 'darling' whilst taking care of their needs, food (much improved since my day - the Indian food actually tasted Indian) was brought to you, your sheets changed every day and wise men came to dispense their wisdom.

Okay, the picture is an exaggeration, but I was determined to paint the confinement in a positive way, and it helped as I wandered around in my summer wear, exploring the shops and cafes of this massive ship.

Closer to the truth, I thought, as I observed what was happening was that this was reminiscent of Star Trek. For those who don't know, Star Trek is more a philosophy than a TV show, the stories illustrating a future where humanity is not determined to destroy itself. The creator, Gene Roddenberry, worked out certain basics where a more utopian vision could be embodied, and he decided it would be a world without money, racism, sexism, religion or superstition, among other things. Here, experiencing the world-renowned NHS in action on its numerous levels, I feel convinced it is a glimpse of a possible future. I heard a woman on TV state that if the UK had a national religion, it would be the NHS, and I think she's right. No wonder people are so passionate about it. When under-resourced, such as I felt in A&E, of course there's a struggle to manage, but when supported fully and intelligently, it's impossible to beat.

In a complex system as vast as this, it's impressive to see the part everyone plays, each part so valuable I wouldn't even call it a hierarchy despite the variation in pay (see, in Star Trek, nobody needs money, so we're not there yet); everyone's part is vital. What's more, they actually communicate with each other, and very well from what I can see. I was surprised when the pharmacist turned up by my bedside, having come all the way from the other side of the hospital, to confirm with me her list of meds. She had everything right.

It's a journey, and we're all going somewhere. As in every journey, it's not always easy or comfortable - and it's always into the unknown.

Though maybe I went a bit too far one night when the nurse doing their rounds asked me the routine questions they ask everyone, starting with, 'Do you know where you are?', and I answered, 'Yes, the Star Ship Enterprise.' They were so taken aback they forgot to go through the rest of the list!