My biggest fear about hospitals

Friday, 19 June 2026

Hospital stays provide plenty to be nervous about.

Martin van Beynen is a Press journalist and regular opinion contributor.

OPINION: I’ve got some fairly significant surgery coming up and am therefore preparing to face one of my biggest fears about being a patient.

Hospital stays provide plenty to be nervous about. For starters there’s the risk of medical misadventure and infection, not to mention the ubiquitous needles, invasive tubes, beeping monitors and the personal habits of fellow patients. Then you have the after-effects of surgery, including post-operative constipation, insomnia, hallucinogenic painkillers and of course the potential for death.

I’m not too worried about any of these. I know I will have a brilliant surgeon, excellent nursing care and the best of the drugs available. So I am more than willing to take my chances.

What causes me most anxiety is public hospital food. I don’t mean this as a slur on the hospital kitchen staff. If meals seem a little unappetising and institutional that should be no surprise.The fact hospital kitchens can produce nutritious meals for several hundred patients three times a day and deliver them to a hospital campus the size of a small town is a miracle in itself.

Making it even more of a miracle is the fact each patient has specific dietary requirements beyond the usual vegan, vegetarian, gluten and dairy-free variety. Some will need soft food, some will be on a liquid diet and others will be highly allergic to certain ingredients. Getting those meals out each day necessitates planning and logistics of D-Day proportions.

Meals represent a big cost in the public hospital system, says Martin van Beynen, who cheekily suggests catering could be delegated to patients’ family members. (File photo)

I too have special dietary requirements. I absolutely need well-cooked, tasty food made from the best fresh local and international ingredients. I know this makes me sound like an ingrate, an insufferable food snob and completely unrealistic but phobias are often like that.

Not that I expect to have much appetite. A few years ago I had a large portion of my liver removed in a private hospital and as I quickly recovered I looked forward to choosing something tasty from the room service menu. Then the nausea and gastric distress started and I hardly ate a thing for five days. The hospital kitchen staff tried their utmost. At one meal I was offered about five different broths, everyone probably delicious, but I couldn’t bear the sight, let alone the aroma.

I don’t, of course, have to eat the public hospital food but I don’t want to offend the kitchen staff or waste taxpayer money by sending the food back.

Perhaps one way to improve hospital food is to introduce competition between hospital kitchens. We could have a system like a Michelin star or at least a rating scheme. Patients don’t really have a choice about the hospital they attend but at least patients would know what to expect and hospital kitchens could aim for that elusive Michelin equivalent. After the medical specialist and entourage have left the bed, the hospital kitchen chef could attend to explain the menu.

Another possible solution to the hospital food quandary and rising health costs is to transfer the responsibility of feeding patients to their families. Apparently this is the norm in many hospitals overseas not blessed with the advantages of First World health care.

Food is a big cost in the public hospital health system, although not as big as you might think. Health NZ doesn’t appear to publish costings so I got ChatGPT to work out a figure based on information that was available. On an assumption of 2.7 million inpatient bed days/year, three meals per day and $6 per meal served, we are looking at about $50m a year.

While we tend to talk in billions these days, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t save on the small stuff.

Some home baking might not go amiss, while recovering from surgery.

It might seem onerous on families, but they could make rosters and friends could also be roped in. In fact a competitive situation could evolve, with family and friends all trying to outdo each other with the quality of their catering.

The main danger with this idea is that families, many not in peak physical condition themselves, don’t always choose the healthiest options for their loved ones. Some will outsource their catering to popular food outlets. I don’t want to knock takeaway food but despite being delicious it is not known for its health benefits.

You might also ask what’s wrong with services like Uber Eats? I would say nothing but you can imagine the chaos as hundreds of couriers arrive at the hospital entrance at dinner time. Having said that, the central city must be full of cheap eats that can do with the business.

I know Mrs VB would love to take over my nutrition in hospital. I would keep my expectations modest. Perhaps we could start with a 12-course degustation dinner the first night, just to make it easy, and look at something light like coq au vin the next.

Anyway, I know you will thinking of me as I lie there listening to the meal trolley arriving in the ward corridor. Soon there will be the clinking of dishes and cutlery and the shuffling of feet as the tray is delivered. I know you will want to wish me bon appetit.