Moving on from my last posting and taking up the point that our governments do not want to put their various health services under any kind of pressure during this Covid mullarkey, but it is al planned. In the last 10 or so years hospitals in Britain have lost thousands of beds, many thousands of doctors and upteen thousands of nurses. Even without Covid, hospitals every winter come under massive pressure dealing with the annual virus season of October to March. So they, the politicians, think let us put them under more pressure by sacking 30% of their staff because they will not be jabbed. What a good idea but they have a better idea.
The life blood of the health services is the consultants list. The consultant has to keep up and improve his lists on an annual basis other wise there would be no need of half these high earners and the positions they take up in hospitals and their car parks. Once they have you on their list no improvement they make on your health matters a damn because they still want to keep an eye on you. Death is the only way they cross you off and I am not to sure whether that happens all the time.
Consultants are no different than the rest of us pretending our dead relations are still living in order to keep collecting their benefits, pensions etc. A case in point is a Consultant in Newry in Northern Ireland was only this week listed as a major tax evader owing a total of €1.5 million to the state in unpaid taxes.
Covid has come at the right time for these boys and girls. Instead of being run off their feet dealing with useless individuals at out patient department who would have been dead years ago except for the drip feed of pharmaceutical poisons they are given every three or six months at their visits. They, the Consultants, that is, have developed an easier more leisurely way of conducting their business under the guise of freeing up hospital time and space for Covid patients most of whom are only there because they failed the now utterly useless PCR test.
The consultants now do not even bother turning up for work, scared I suppose of catching the deadly themselves. But they delegate their junior doctors and house men to ring everybody on their list to see first of all if they are still living and then to ask how they are. Anybody who is ill knows they are ill but when asked by an impersonal telephone operator “how are you today”, they obviously mumble “I’m OK”. The telephone operator cannot see that the patients blood pressure is sky high or that he can hardly breath through the mouth piece. Just a faint “I’m OK” is enough for this clerk to tick a box and want to move to the next one on the list.
I had my turn yesterday at about 9.30 a clerk or whoever he was rang me at 9.30am complaining first of all that he had tried to ring me earlier but there had been no answer. I think he was about to tick the box marked deceased when he tried me again. “Hello Mr Paul, how are you today”. “I am OK” I said. “How is your breathing today” he said. “I am talking to you aren’t I” I said “and can I ask you what is the point of all this. You have established that I am still living, what more do you want.” “No” he said “If you had been feeling unwell we would have you in here straight away” Mindful of the fact that he was speaking from Roscommon Hospital which is at least 30 miles away, I wondered how soon he would have me in there for treatment. I suppose the sight of my body riddled with rigor mortis would have been enough for him to tick the deceased box with certainty. He also said that I could alternatively go and see my GP who would certainly refer me on.
Now it is a long tale, one I admit has been the subject of previous postings but to see your GP these days is a bit like asking for an audience with the fucking Queen. So scared are these doctors that they can only see you through the haze and fog of masks with them sitting so far away from you they might as well be on the phone as well.
The whole medical profession have lost the grip they had on the populace besides forgetting all about the professional oath they took on entry to their job. They take their money, play their golf and tick their boxes and everything is well in this murky world of statistics. Who the fuck cares whether Fred Blogs is alive or dead, I do not know him, he has been on my list for years, possibly before I even set foot here in Roscommon or Sligo or wherever.
I for my part joined this band of brothers when out walking one day ten or twelve years ago, I felt a pain in my left leg. I went to GP who realised I had a Thrombosis and sent me to Sligo who realised I didn’t but found I had some skin infection of the second layer of skin but also as a bonus realised I had atrial fibrillation . I could have had that from birth but nobody noticed. Many years later I had another pain in same leg and they realised I had a weakness of the heart. Different hospital, different view. The more I saw of them the more Pills they gave me.
At one stage I was on nine pills a day and decided enough was enough and gave everything up for about three years. The nurses at Sligo were amazed when I told them but the death of my wife put me on the treadmill once again and I am now taking four a day and seriously thinking of again abstaining. Pills or no pills has been an argument within myself for years now and I shudder at my weakness in bothering with them. These doctors whilst extending our life span are slowly poisoning us with their pharmaceuticals.
Lacking empathy with the old and infirm they pocket the freebies given out by Big Pharma and prescribe narcotics to dull the pain of 21st Century living. They have to realise but they will not, that part of the ageing process is pain. Every day a new pain, every day a different one. Why do they not just let us get on with our lives and in a way they are by subletting their powers to their juniors who are only really apprentices.
The consultants that were are now not and these new boys are very good golfers.