Queasy ride

A restaurant's toilets are usually a good indicator of whether it is wise to eat there. These days the bathrooms of even the smallest, cheapest and most cheerful places give the impression that the owners are keen not to let their toilets turn you off your food.

The Boomtown Rats used to sing that this was a septic isle. They weren't singing about our lavatories, but in this respect it would be fair to say we have cleaned up our act.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that restaurant toilets are clean enough to eat your dinner off, but for the most part they are clean enough to allow you to enjoy your food. Most restaurant toilets have a notice asking you to tell management if you have a problem with their general state, and a rota stuck on the door tells you that Suzanne or Gabrielle or Lee was the last one to give the place a good going over.

What a relief that, in modern Ireland, hygiene is a priority in places where you are going to eat and drink. It's not true everywhere, of course. In places, say, where you are going to recover from an illness, have surgery, get rid of a nasty infection, have a baby, have your life saved or, sometimes, die, hygiene does not always seem to be a priority.

The good news is that if you are going to one of these places to visit somebody, you can expect to be able to eat your dinner off the floors of the public toilets. As a visitor you will not have to be troubled by any unpleasant sights.

As a patient in 91 per cent of our hospitals, however - that's how many hospitals have poor or only "fair" hygiene, according to a recent report - you must be prepared for the worst.

A friend has a sister who is chronically ill. This young woman has been in hospital for a few weeks because of an infection. I won't say which hospital, because it could be almost any of them, according to the report. If the toilets across from my friend's sister's ward were in a restaurant, the place would be closed down faster than you could say E.Coli.

I heard a health official say on the radio that this debate might be "more about hype than horror", but I don't think so. For two weeks excrement was dotted around the toilet's walls and on its safety rail. My friend couldn't believe it. She thought it might be paint. She took a piece of tissue and rubbed the stain on the rail. She nearly got very sick herself. Then she got very angry, and she took some photographs, because she wondered if anyone would believe her when she told them what she had seen.

In this toilet, the hospital is dealing with the MRSA problem by leaving some alcohol wipes for patients, which sit open in a plastic tub on a grubby sanitary bin. The person using the toilet is asked to take a wipe and clean the seat, toilet handle and door handle before leaving. When you consider that the ward is mostly filled with frail people over the age of 70, it's a bit much to ask.

My friend asked one of the cleaning staff how often they do a thorough clean. She was told they are doing well to give the wards a proper clean once a week. My friend has seen the cleaning staff in action. Cleaning can mean one woman dragging a cloth across a window sill, across a television, on to the next window sill and on into the next room.

Her sister now uses the public toilets rather than the ones in the ward, for fear of catching something, and just ignores the funny looks she gets from visitors who don't understand why a sick person is wandering about in the public area.

She tries to avoid showering when she is in hospital, because she is worried about specks that look like phlegm and blood. During one of her recent stays, two people in the same ward as her contracted MRSA.

In the way that restaurant toilets are a good indication of whether you are going get sick after eating the food, the toilets in our hospitals are a good indication of whether you are going to get better or worse after spending time there. This is not hype; this is horror. This is our new septic isle.