NI hospital waiting times: Tearful pensioner describes life on waiting list

As the BBC reveals a 75% rise in patients waiting for appointments at Northern Ireland's regional orthopaedics centre, one patient gives an emotional account of life on a waiting list.

Behind hospital statistics are men, women and children.

Often represented as numbers, sometimes we need to remember they have a name, an identity and a life to live.

County Antrim man John O'Hagan, 75, is a keen swimmer, gardener and walker.

After experiencing serious back pain, he was referred by his GP to a specialist at Belfast's Musgrave Park Hospital in June 2014.

At that stage, he was told he required surgery. While any surgery is significant, Mr O'Hagan understood it would be relatively routine.

Deteriorated

However, the months rolled by and now, one year later, he has been told it could be February 2016 before he even gets to see a back specialist to advise on his surgery.

That will be a 74-week wait - 19 months since his first referral.

His condition has deteriorated and he has trouble walking, sitting and sleeping.

In an emotional interview, Mr O'Hagan told the BBC that it is also affecting his mental health.

"I get depressed by the whole carry on. I try and do things, go about my everyday life, but the leg just falls apart.

"I like gardening but I need a brush in my hand all the time to hold me up. I can't swim, can hardly walk at times. I'm very depressed by it all."

John O'Hagan told BBC NI health correspondent Marie-Louise Connolly he felt embarrassed that he had to go to the media to highlight his difficulties

Sitting in his living room in his home in Antrim, Mr O'Hagan cries as he talks about how he had hoped at this stage of his life he would be holidaying and enjoying spending time with his grandchildren.

Pain

"I need to get out. I'm an outdoors person, I can't sit here and just look out the window - I want to garden, go on holiday and swim. But I can't. They've told me it will be next February before I get even to see someone - I could be dead by then."

His living room is scattered with toys and books that belong to his grandchildren.

He cries uncontrollably as he tells me that the pain is often too much to cope with.

"I know they want me to go private - but I don't have that money," Mr O'Hagan said.

"I worked for 50 years, I worked hard driving lorries through the bad times through the Troubles... I paid my dues, I shouldn't have to pay for this after all these years."

John O'Hagan said he tries to keep active but his condition is affecting all aspects of life

Mr O'Hagan said he blames "all the boys at the top" and accuses politicians of not knowing how to run anything, let alone the health service.

As I walk with him out to the garden he cautiously holds on to the wall to protect his step.

As he cuts me a bunch of sweet peas, he tells me he feels embarrassed that he had to go to the media with his story.

He apologies for crying but stresses that he feels like a burden to his wife and family.

As I leave he acknowledges there are always those worse off, but at 75 he believes he still has a lot of living to do.