‘Breathless’ dad, 52, who rang 999 dies at home alone after NHS bosses cancelled his ambulance

In a tragically predictable chapter of Britain’s crumbling healthcare saga, Simon Boyd, a 52-year-old father from Stockport, passed away at home after the NHS did what it does best these days: absolutely nothing useful.

Despite begging for help in a desperate 999 call, Simon’s request for an ambulance was tossed around like a hot potato before being flat-out canceled; because, apparently, needing to breathe isn’t quite “urgent” enough.

A Life on Hold, Then Lost

Simon had been battling vomiting and diarrhoea for a week before his death on June 1, 2023. You’d think a man with a medical history that included heart problems, high blood pressure, chronic fatigue syndrome, and sleep apnoea might have set off some alarms when he called for help.

But alas, the NHS Pathways triage system appears to have been programmed by someone who’s never actually met a sick person.

The 999 call Simon placed in the early hours was categorized as “category three”; basically NHS-speak for, “We’ll get to you when we can, mate.”

That category promises a response within two hours nine out of 10 times. But on this glorious day of public healthcare dysfunction, the ambulance was expected to take over three hours.

So what did the authorities do? They canceled it. Genius.

How to Lose a Life in Three Easy Steps

Step 1: 5:20 a.m. – Simon calls 999.
Simon Boyd, gasping for air and battling severe breathlessness, reached out to the North West Ambulance Service (NWAS). Their response? “This can wait.” His urgent call was categorized as a “category three” case, with a three-hour and 15-minute expected wait time. NWAS passed the buck to the Greater Manchester Clinical Assessment Service (CAS), whose indifference could have been cut with a knife. CAS decided Simon should see an out-of-hours GP instead.

“What could possibly go wrong?” thought absolutely no one who has ever relied on NHS services.

Step 2: 6:00 a.m. onwards – Simon is left stranded.
Simon, still struggling to breathe, was told he’d need to make his own way to the out-of-hours center. Because, of course, when you’re teetering on the edge of collapse, driving yourself somewhere is totally reasonable.

When he couldn’t manage that—because breathing tends to take priority—CAS downgraded his situation further. He was scheduled for a “routine same-day home visit.” By “routine,” they clearly meant, “We’ll get there when we get there.”

Step 3: 8:34 a.m. – The doctor arrives too late.
A doctor eventually showed up at Simon’s flat, but by then, the damage was done. Simon was already gone. When his family arrived shortly after, they were confronted with the heartbreaking reality: their father had been left to die while the NHS debated the finer points of bureaucratic incompetence.

Sympathy for the Victim, Roast for the Authorities

Simon’s family is understandably heartbroken. His ex-wife, Elaine Parker-Boyd, described the moment they arrived at his flat.

“There was no ambulance, just a doctor’s car and police outside. My son said straight away, ‘My dad’s dead.’”

And here’s the kicker: they found a police officer rummaging through Simon’s glovebox, presumably in search of his lost dignity.

The coroner’s report didn’t pull punches, but it stopped short of stating the obvious: this debacle wasn’t just a tragedy; it was an absurd, Kafkaesque nightmare.

Area coroner Chris Morris pointed out that national ambulance response targets are about as reliable as a chocolate teapot. He also highlighted the misleading language used by NHS call handlers.

Phrases like, “An emergency ambulance has been arranged” give callers a false sense of hope. Translation: “We’ll pencil you in, but don’t hold your breath; oh wait, you already can’t.”

An NHS Tragedy Fit for Satire

Let’s be clear: Simon Boyd didn’t die because he was unlucky. He died because the system designed to protect him failed spectacularly. And while government officials offer their “deepest sympathies,” it’s hard not to roll your eyes at their hollow platitudes.

The Department of Health and Social Care (DHSC) promised to “consider” the coroner’s recommendations. Right, because considering fixes has worked wonders so far.

Meanwhile, NHS England vowed to “carefully review” the report. Translation: they’ll skim it over tea and biscuits before blaming “unprecedented demand” for the millionth time.

NWAS, ever the paragon of public relations, pledged to “support efforts” to reduce wait times. Which is rich, coming from the organization that canceled an ambulance for a man dying in his own home.