Medical Dramas

The wards are quiet, the corridors empty. The floors are clean, on which only essential staff tread, with measured purpose. The pictures on the walls are tasteful, and the nurse's stations are tidy. In fact, the whole building seems to be as good as new. The patients are always fully conscious, except when they're in peaceful, well monitored comas. They discuss their conditions, which are never visible, in a calm and considered manner with the doctors who are courteous, well dressed and clean shaven. Everyone, absolutely everyone, seems to have constant visitors with mild to moderate personal issues that seem to resolve, either in a genuinely happy outcome or at the least in a peaceful conclusion. All the menial jobs seem to be accomplished by a five second phone call, or by delegating to a colleague who reappears within a minute.
There is no smell of disinfectant or bodily fluids. The floors are not comprised of decade old dusty vinyl, and the walls aren't coated in cheap matt and adorned with tacky, dated "artwork" with grime infested frames. There are no porters, HCAs, cleaners, physios, pharmacists, podiatrists, social workers, nurses, sisters, junior doctors or medical students lurking aimlessly on the ward fiddling with mountains of notes. There is no constant murmur of phones, chatter, renovation or ventilation. There is definitely no pain induced groaning, and never any frail weeping or sobbing. Nobody mutters for a nurse because they need the loo, or can't remember where they are. There have never been any patients that die in a bed in the corner without being noticed for 20 minutes, and hospital acquired infections only cause the odd bout of "feeling a bit dizzy". There has never been a single patient with a personal issue that the doctors don't try to fix.
If you honestly believe the NHS you pay your taxes for is like this, you watch too much TV.