apres deluge, moi
6 December 2001
I used to worry about these things, and then I reflected upon what
will happen the day after the NHS collapses in its present form.
I'll come in to my general practice, a building I own, and sit in my
chair, in my room, and my patients will come to see me.
I think this applies to most if not all of my colleagues, and do you
know, I think my specialist colleagues will find much the same in their
rather more complicated facilities.
There might have to be some sort of change out at the Reception desk,
but that doesn't seem too complicated to arrange.
So, anyone who finds themselves in charge of managing a piece of NHS
has a problem, and anyone who is worrying about how to divide inadequate
resources fairly among too many people has a problem, but if they are good
at it, the day after the deluge they could well be offered a job.
So order more imaginary divisions into the line, send more memos and
plans to join those yet unread festering in piles in the administrata,
patients come to see doctors, not managers nor politicians, and without an
NHS they will not cease doing so.
I think it is not this governments fault, the iceberg was in sight
when they were elected, and even if they had hung a left instead of
rearranging the deckchairs it wasn't stoppable. Probably.
Competing interests: None declared
Exeter






