The NHS is based on the reality of people’s lived work and life experiences.
Because so much of what the NHS can do is contested by an austerity morality, an austerity ideology, then what you see happening with hospital queues of 50 elders a day waiting for the very profitable south african and other companies to do their cataracts while the corridors they line have no life and vitality in them, there’s no sense that anyone has the right to walk up and down the lines of people talking to them about their op, the after care, when they go home, the things they’d like to know, to connect with, understand in a normal down to earth and relatable way.
We reduce people with these conveyor belt systems because we think that’s all we have to do.
When older people go for these cataract operations, they’re having something done to them that increases life stress and de-skils them. The individuals that go through these processes need to confront and challenge them. They’re very very wrong.
Noone talks about why modular fragmentation of the body in health care is actually really bad for all of us.
In South Africa they’re crying out (still) for redistribution of healthcare and where is their money, resources and skill? In the British NHS, with so-called sophisticated modular medicine making money for institutional investors.
Bonkers
The south african, american and gormless jump on the gravy train contractors that sacrifices the notion of reciprocal value in the healthcare relationship. The doctor should learn from the patient, the patient should learn from the doctor but the natural flow of knowledge that is an important source of knowledge and resource for the institution has been undermined and fragmented.
A reality of health as money is dystopian. (It’s even more bizarre that we talk about people ‘having mental health’). The words we use now stand in for the words we can’t articulate, can’t express what we need, feel, see.
We’re all witnesses to the structured confusion we see in the way lots of value appears on the surface of a service but when you think about it why do modular medical services need to be integrated, why do all the privatised medical services need to come back into each hospital? Because the current system is meeting the needs of the existing suppliers and isn’t comprehensive enough.
I think that if we can get a sense of vocation into health that is communicated amongst the profession and between professionals and the people they treat, britain will be a different place to live.
Get the vocation back by connecting people and health to the place they live the way they need to live without fear or favour.
Social apartheid worked for centuries by disconnecting some actions and lives from meaning, relevance and humanity.
Modular, contracted, medical services aren’t cost effective and need a massive justificatory administration that undermines individuals. Modular medical work is always done by people you don’t know, who don’t know you, who work in an increasingly pressured and isolated space so the risk, knowledge and understanding is never properly shared or distributed.
A good medical service is locally created, with the appropriate links to knowledge across the hospital, the region, the country, the world that daily, weekly, monthly criticises, challenges and changes the shape of the supply chain.
We should be making medicine that drives insightful thoughtful service that increasingly produces reciprocal value and learning, naturally at the moment of delivery of the service so everyone knows a good job’s been done.
Social proprioception is understanding that the NHS system isn’t treating the illnesses of the gang labour, venture capital, with respect and seriousness because somewhere, somehow on the journey to where the NHS is now, where the natural rhythm of life is interrupted by the greedy modular supply chain.
It’s only about money, domination and hegemony, not a shared social future with different and better outcomes.
In privatised, contracted out health care you just get corporate performance and silence…silence…silence…no sense that these spaces are connected to anything that goes on outside, in lives, in homes, that there was or is or ever should be a reciprocity and connection. There’s no sense that anyone will ever know these spaces, get to know them, own them, make them homely, homey their own.
PFI and asset locking makes everything like a prison and so all the uniformed organisations feel at home there (and are increasingly invited in to deal with the social problems of denial of access) but ordinary people don’t and they should.
This is alienation on a grand scale and we need to reclaim that alienation.
What hospital staff have been socialised and trained to exclude is local knowledge, really meaningful local knowledge that normalises the life of the person they’re treating because that’s why some people in society are healthier than others, their life is normalised by the treatment and reception they receive.
Increasingly this is because of a lifetime (it’s been forty years since the lie of the ledger was introduced into the health care system in the UK) and it’s this abuse of the staff (not by the underclass) but by the absurd metrics around employment, acting and moving, relating and communicating in these environments which need to be simplified.
Permission to be alive shouldn’t be based on whether you wear or have worn a uniform. It should be based on the fact that you are a human. You’re a person and being a person is just great and enough.
Yet in the NHS is the replacement of treatment and care within the fabric of a hospital with deferrals, bureaucratic and treatment deferrals (as poet TS Eliot might have had it) ‘between the spasm and the desire falls the shadow’
and the spasm of pain, of need, of humanity
is mediated by this ideology of deferral which in fact has more to do with how the operating power of drug cartels, worldwide organised crime press down very hard upon rational decision making across complex supply chains including the NHS, even if noone ever acknowledges their weight.
They should.
If people are migrant, are trafficked, are gang labour, they’re being used as objects here, there everywhere and they are in our communities then whether we lie to ourselves, whether we believe we have nothing to do with this, we’re wrong, we really do.
Because the lack of connection in the NHS between the different parts of the organisation is no accident.
The way greedy supply and demand chains operate are far more powerful and insidious than our weedy little hypocritical rationing of treatment and care on the basis of the deserving and the undeserving here in the UK might make us feel.
The whole organic impetus and momentum of the NHS that it is here to help us all become better people throughout the whole of our life journey is being undermined by tales of immigrants and an underclass who are abusers of everything.
Can you have expectations of learning something when you have dealings with the NHS? Well, that depends. First of all, are you an immigrant? Secondly, are you in pain?
Although you built the british world after the second world war, you’re to blame for it just not being there for everyone, any longer.
The novelist Sarah Perry’s take on her own suffering
doesn’t look at the compromise she’s made in believing the drug story (her own and the story of other artists in history who, she determines had been in pain),
when she was given massive doses of opiates that she became addicted to while waiting for the surgeon who would heal her injury rather than the more real one under her nose that she should really have had access to the spine man, Mr Rai and his team a few days after she attended the consultation about her pain.
Are we really in a place now where the historical suffering of artists and poets whom she now realises were actually in pain but she doesn’t think, hey, that was a couple of hundred years ago.
What’s going on here, now really in how we’re drugged out of believing we have the right to a doctor, a surgeon in a reasonable space of time.
Get your drugs, intravenously on the NHS and go away half cocked. If she hadn’t been a novelist would she have got access eventually (as an addict) to jolly Mr Rai?
What strange dystopic serpent of doom has been unleashed into the arteries of the wonderful NHS to completely undermine our sense of what it’s here to do, how it’s here to serve all of us, all of the time so we can give back to it and refresh it so we are not always indebted to it.
Because that’s the way privatisation is done. Give not very much and then make people thank you for the harm you’ve done. It shouldn’t be a rarity to get good first class treatment. We should always expect it.
I’d ask Ms P. why she was frightened of asking those questions.
And I’d be pretty bothered that there are so many people managing and working in the NHS and watching this happening, paralysed by the drugging of so many who should not be subdued but should be treated fairly, at once and with the very best tools we have.
Let’s go for liberation as a good goal, not escape.
These are the real issues, the lack of morality at the heart of the system.
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