Hospital Reorganisation
There have been a couple of stories on the news about hospital reorganisation in the last week or so. There was a story last week about the reorganisation of A & E units in North West London. Today, there’s a story about a trust in South East london, that might merge with one in North West Kent.
As when the closure of Barts was mooted some years ago, the locals are against it. For instance someone has said this morning, that those in South East London prefer to travel to the teaching hospitals in Central London.
I lived for a long time in East Anglia and now, the number of big hospitals, is probably down to just two; Cambridge and Norwich, with some local General Hospitals in between. Some like Bury St. Edmunds will disappear fairly soon.
And then of course, there was the retired doctor, who got elected to Parliament over the closure of Kidderminster Hospital, a few years ago.
Modern medicine means we need less hospital beds and more specialist consultants and because paramedics are so much more advanced in what they can do, we need less A & E units.
But try selling this to the locals.
Between a Rock And A Hard Place
Over this winter I have severely dehydrated myself, due to the bad design of this house. I regularly have lukewarm baths to try to get more water back into my body. My GP’s colleague thinks this is a good idea. I’ve also had air-conditioning fitted, so that my house is usually at about 25 °C with upwards of 40% humidity. I also drink quite a bit to try to raise the moisture levels in my body.
However my cardiologist says that I must not drink more than 1.5 litres a day. I don’t think I do!
But my skin is still as dry as a bone and I itch like crazy. The guy who cuts my hair, says my scalp is very dry and I scratch everywhere like mad. Especially, the backs of my legs, my back, my scalp and my throat.
The problem did clear up last year, but only when we got some sun. Fat chance of that this year. Why did the Queen have to have a ruddy jubilee to guarantee bad weather this summer?
Has anybody any serious ideas, other than moving to Australia?
I Am A Man Who Is Approaching His Terminus
Not me, I hasten to add!
But the very brave Clive James has said this about himself, as he battles against cancer.
He is obviously determined to go with dignity and humour.
Is there any other way? Not in my book there isn’t!
Hayley Turner Rides for the Queen
Hayley Turner is riding Momentary for the Queen in the Ribblesdale Stakes today.
Hayley is a coeliac and now is the best lady jockey in the UK. Many will say the best lady jockey ever to ride in the UK.
One of the Worst Days of my Life?
Today, my youngest son, George, would have been forty, which we always think is an important milestone in a person’s life. We tried to arrange a party or even a drink, but gradually everyone has cried off, so I shall celebrate this all by myself. I understand more and more the fortitude with which Aung San Suu Kyi endured her isolation. All of those birthdays and important milestones, that I’ve missed. And I will miss in the future.
But hey, at least I’m still here, despite the efforts of the Devil.
Luckily, by chance, I was given an overdose of survival gene at conception and that keeps pulling me through.
All I can say, to others now, is make sure your children don’t ever start smoking. George’s smoking probably led to his pancreatic cancer, especially if he was an undiagnosed coeliac and thus had a compromised immune system because of his gluten-rich junk food diet.
Aung San Suu Kyi and the DJ
Years ago, I can remember Dave Lee Travis on Radio 1 on Sunday mornings, whilst I was writing Artemis. I suspect as a young mother in Oxford, Ms Suu Kyi was listening to the same program.
Aung San Suu Kyi then went back to Burma to care for her dying mother and for twenty four years she couldn’t return to the UK, as she feared any return to her family would mean the Generals wouldn’t let go back to Burma. She couldn’t even return for the death of her husband, Michael Aris.
But during those years of isolation in Burma, she did at least have the BBC World Service, which kept her in touch and she listened to the shows of Dave Lee Travis, who briefly met her yesterday.
In some ways I can understand her isolation, although I’ve never suffered like she has. When I had my stroke in Hong Kong, there was only CNN, that I could understand on the television. But at least, I could get BBC Radio 5 at most times through the Internet. Never has a broadcasting channel been so important to my sanity.
Today, Aung San Suu Kyi is praised in the first leader of The Times. The last sentence is something we should all remember.
She not only represents a better future for Burma, but testifies to the resilience of the human spirit in extreme adversity.
I very much agree with that. She has also been an extreme example to me, as to how to cope with the worst that life can throw at you. But then I’m not alone and thousands of miles from my friends and family.
In
And Now It’s Super Obesity!
The BBC has two health stories today. One is about the fact that the NHS is in crisis and the other about super-obesity.
Are they by any chance related?
I recently had a visit to a hospital, where under pressure of clinic space, we had the consultation in a consulting room fitted out for the super obese.
It was extremely threatening. I was sitting in a chair, where three of me could have sat and the couch was like the bench, you’d get in a garage, where heavy trucks would be serviced.
I was surprised that the BBC didn’t put a warning before the obesity report, like they do for flash photography.
Jenny Hill has just said obesity will cost up £60billion a year in a few years. I hope that figure is wrong, as the total NHS budget for 2011-2012 is £120billion a year.
Silly Pill Packaging
These bisoprolol fumarate pills have the most infuriating packaging in that some of the bubbles don’t have a pill in them.
Silly Pill Packaging
But from the other side you wouldn’t know, which bubbles have pills in them.
In Search of Small Waists
The BBC’s web site today is verging into dangerous territory this morning, with a serious article called the re-re-re-rise of the corset. The article is in their magazine, so comments are not allowed, so we will not see the opinions of both fetishists and feminists.
The article does say that sales are on the rise.
But sales figures suggest ordinary people are turning to one of the greatest symbols of the Victorian era. Corsets are making a comeback.
Rigby & Peller, the Queen’s brassiere-maker, says sales of traditional corsets in May were 45% up on 2011.
Ebay has reported a 185% rise in the number of corsets being sold over the last three months, with 1,900 listed over the period. It says most corsets are bought in the UK (40%), the US (34%) and Australia (8.6%).
Many women aspire to Marilyn Monroe’s hourglass figureMarks & Spencer says it sells one item from its new corset-inspired Waist Sculpt lingerie line every three minutes.
The article then goes on to discuss why, which includes a comment by Liberty Sweet of the Folly Mixtures.
On a personal level, I always believed that C’s small waist was one of her physical characteristics, that attracted me to her. I could have probably made my hands touch round her waist, when we got married in 1968.
She never actually wore a corset, but she did wear a basque at times, especially after she had her brush with breast cancer, as she felt a proper fitting basque, gave her more support after the operation. In one instance, having a basque in her holiday suitcase, actually saved the day at a New Year’s Eve ball in Venice.
An MRi Scan in Harley Street
The doctors are trying to get to the bottom of why my heart doesn’t push as hard as it might.
So on Saturday lunchtime, I found myself in The Heart Hospital round the corner from Harley Street for an MRi scan. The hospital has an interesting history having been refurbished at one time as a private heart hospital. Some of the expensive fittings show this.
Now it is part of UCLH and it was a very efficient procedure, as a cardiologist checked my heart with the machine.
I think the whole story shows how only the NHS can afford really expensive machines, but they must make the assets sweat.
My only complaint was the usual NHS one, of magazines that were fairly out of date. But hey who cares? I waited with a man, who had brought his wife in for something much more serious than I am suffering from. He was much better company than last year’s Hello.
It was also a simple bus ride without any changes from the stop at the end of my road.
The Anonymous Widower 