Stop Press | Five star hospitals win a thumbs up from patient

Like many people he suffers from fear of hospitals, or what the experts call nosocomephobia, and hadn't darkened the doors of one of these places for most of his life, even to visit sick friends.

But the time came last week when he had no option.

He was dragged kicking and screaming to Orange Hospital Emergency Department for checks on his ticker for shortage of breath.

It was either that or face the alternative, which is never good.

He tells the story that after arriving at the hospital he was smothered with attention by doctors and nurses.

Among other things he was given an electrocardiogram, had cannulas stuck in everywhere, chest x-rays, blood and blood pressure tests and lots of needles.

The end result was admission to the coronary ward and later intensive care.

An angiogram resulted in him being flown to Sydney's RPA in what he skited was a Citation jet with two pilots and a nurse.

Five star travel. 10/10.

The attention in RPA was the same as in Orange.

Bright surroundings unlike what he thought hospitals should be like and friendly health care staff running around like one-armed paper hangers sticking in cannulas, taking tests and hooking up jumper leads and God knows what else to monitors.

So far so good.

It hadn't been too traumatic.

Not yet, anyway.

The crunch came Thursday when nurses wheeled him into a theatre on a trolley where surgical cardiologists were waiting to put a stent in his heart via a wire through the wrist.

A nurse numbs the wrist with a local anaesthetic, tells him he's in the best possible hands with Professor Mark Adams and Dr John Weaver, who inserts a guide wire into an artery in the wrist and moves it into the heart.

He inflates a tiny balloon on the tip of a catheter at a blockage to open the artery, puts in a stent and uses the balloon to expand it to keep the artery open before deflating the balloon and removing the catheter.

Our patient is awake for the surgery, watches what is happening on a huge screen and reckons he experiences no real terror as the doctors do their job.

And when it's all over our big sook is so relieved he thinks all his Christmases have come at once when he's wheeled back to his room still wondering 'is that all...?"

He can't believe how different the whole experience has been from the terrifying time years ago at the old Orange Base when he was strapped to the operating table and put under with ether to have his tonsils out.

He's now convinced hospitals aren't really torture chambers.

He says Orange people should be really proud of its five-star hospital and the friendly and highly-efficient medical and nursing staff who work there.

They can all take a deep bow for the excellent things they are doing to keep us all healthy.

As for himself, he says a huge black cloud has lifted.

He's just in awe of the health system we have.