You likely have read or heard about the British health system. But you probably haven’t been caught in the thick of it — lying about in a big London hospital and waiting for a procedure on your heart.

That is my fate at the moment. As I write this, I wait for a heart doc to explore my heart for blockages. And to perhaps clear a blockage and add a stent or two to my collection of 30.

You might be surprised at the contrasts. Quality treatment in the U.S. — shoddy treatment here. For instance, I came by ambulance to emergency care. Treatment was identical to what I’ve experienced in the U.S. Prompt, sensible procedures.

But then I was dumped into a holding pen. A waiting room chock-a-block with various deliveries from ambulances. The ambulance crews trundled patients in and dumped them onto chairs to wait a few hours for attention.

If you were there, you would have had a guy with a bloody noggin’ installed at your elbow. You would have dodged his vomit as he spewed into a cardboard mini-bucket provided by the staff. Your other elbow would have been prodded by a young woman who seemed to be having mini-seizures. Across from you, a poor homeless creature. He screamed obscenities at the staff. And shouted at creatures only he could see.

After several hours, I was finally evaluated and after more hours, admitted.

Again, the contrast. For one spell, a nurse of quality. For the next, a nurse who can barely manage the language. She spends much of her time on the phone disputing bills from her cable company and clearly neglecting her patients.

This, in a ward full of people with really fragile hearts. Any of them could suffer a heart attack at any moment — which is why they are here. Not one is on a monitor. My nurse says, “Use your buzzer if you have a problem.” I will remember to do that if I crash.

The quality nurse follows sensible procedures. Latex gloves when handling pills and needles. Hand cleansers at every turn. The slovenly nurse ignores the gloves and cleansers. And cannot keep the medications straight.

Contrasts. The staff use laptops to record your data. Sometimes. Much of the time they scribble on scraps of paper, on the back of forms. Many have a habit of writing your data on the skin of the backs of their hands. Or on the latex gloves on those hands.

At breakfast, a woman rolls in a rickety wagon that holds a few choices. I choose porridge. She lifts a piece of cardboard off a big pot of porridge and wields an old ladle to slop out a bowl of the stuff. She plucks a few slabs of toast and drops them onto your tray. No gloves in sight.

The cardiologist and other docs seem to know their stuff. They give the impression that they are informed and thoughtful.

Ah, but when will they do this intervention on my heart? Well, maybe later today. Or maybe tomorrow. Or the day after that. “If we get into Friday, we’ll have to wait until Monday. We don’t do any interventions on the weekend.”

At some juncture we can choose to go private. That is, to abandon the government-run system and have the procedure done in a private system. Which is probably what we will do. If we ever get to that juncture. Who would then do the procedure? Probably the same team that will do it in the government hospital. They will do it in the evening — after they finish their shift for the government. And they will likely do it in the same surgical rooms.

The incompetent nurse has just taken my blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. Her blood-pressure equipment is modern. Her thermometer is super-modern. A new type I have never seen. But she scribbles the numbers onto the back of a crumpled form. She adds them to a mass of similar scribbles. There must be 500 sets of them she has scribbled helter-skelter on the paper. How she knows which are mine is a mystery. Then she casually drops the paper into a wee basket on the blood pressure trolley and waddles away.

I need to have an X-ray. The nurse hands me a folder and gives me directions to find radiology. In my hospital gown and slippers I make my way down eight floors, wander through the lobby, past a fast-food restaurant and into a connecting building and up another lift. Alongside people munching French fries. I wake the guy who handles traffic at radiology. He does his thing. Stuffing something into my folder, he sends me back to my hospital room — aka the lobby and fast-food restaurant.

I’m listening to a nurse prep the guy with whom I share a room. He will have bypass surgery on his heart tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. Or maybe … and not on the weekend. “Your surgeon will be Dr. Jeffries. Or maybe Dr. Lewis. Or perhaps …” Clearly, the patient will not meet his surgeon. And he has no choice as to who will rip him open. Imagine this, however: He suffered a heart attack three weeks ago. He has been waiting since then to have his surgery.

This is a major London hospital. This is the British health system. This is weird, in places. Sensible in others. I hope to still be with you next week. But one never knows, does one?

Bernie Sanders, you should spend time here — before you urge us to increase government’s role in our health care.

From Tom…as in Morgan.                      

Tom Morgan writes about political, financial, and other subjects from his home in upstate New York. He has a new novel out, call “The Last Columnist,” which is available on Amazon. Contact Tom at tomasinmorgan@yahoo.com, read more of his writing at tomasinmorgan.com, or find him on Facebook.

What does it actually mean to be an American? Day to day, we may not think about this much. Yet it’s a crucial question, one that each generation in this country is called upon to answer for itself.

Despite our differences, there are some traits that I think we and our predecessors would recognize — characteristics to being an American that resonate with most of us, regardless of our age or our political beliefs. For instance, I believe the aim of our representative democracy is to enhance the liberty of free people, and to offer them the opportunity to make the most of their talents. 

Perhaps the most eloquent expression of this view is the awe-inspiring Declaration of Independence, which remains a core inspiration both for our political values and our shared identity. The notion that all people are created equal, that we possess God-given inalienable rights, including to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness — these are beliefs that undergird our democracy.

They suggest that our country can be an example to the world of what a government of liberty can mean in the lives of citizens. And that we should never stop trying to make the world a better place. Bringing these values into our policies and our politics depends on all of us.

Often people ask, “Where are the Jeffersons or Lincolns in this time of need?” They understand that the quality of our elected leaders makes all the difference, and that bold, decisive, thoughtful leadership is essential for our country’s success. While I recognize that, I believe ultimately our success as a nation rests on the strength and capabilities of our citizens. The Founding Fathers spoke often of the need for citizens of virtue and talent, for people capable of governing themselves.

We do so through our political institutions, within a framework set out in our Constitution. While our system is not perfect, it has provided us with the tools to meet our challenges — and in a better fashion than any likely alternative.

Politics as it is practiced in our country can bring despair and crushing defeat. But it can also produce splendid achievements. If you enter politics, you have to be prepared for both. I know that a lot of people view politics with disdain and disapproval, yet over the course of a long political life, I never felt the desire to escape it. Just the opposite, in fact. I knew a lot was at stake in the battles, and I embraced them.

To be sure, I pursued them at a time when it was possible to find common ground across partisan divides, and when respecting one’s opponents did not bring immediate censure from donors and primary voters. The atmosphere is different now. Yet the basic need — for using the political system to resolve fundamental challenges — has not changed.

Nor has one of its most basic features: a permanent tension between the preservation and expansion of individual freedom on the one hand, and the stability and strength of the nation on the other.

Government must have enough power to protect the national interest and to be capable of addressing deep-seated problems. It must secure and enlarge personal liberties while maintaining order and stability. It must provide the national security necessary for the preservation of freedom.

These are not contradictory goals, but they do rub against each other. How we interpret them — how far in one direction or the other we go as our national circumstances change — is a constant challenge. Being an American means not shying away from that task, but instead embracing it as part of our birthright.             

Lee Hamilton is a senior advisor for the Indiana University (IU) Center on Representative Government, distinguished scholar at the IU School of Global and International Studies, and professor of practice at the IU School of Public and Environmental Affairs. Hamilton, a Democrat, was a member of the U.S. House of Representatives for 34 years, representing a district in south central Indiana.