On the news this morning is the latest world-saving policy from our nice new government. They want to abolish mixed-sex wards in hospitals. I should perhaps explain that they want to curb the practice of having people of differing genders in the same room. They are not attempting to abolish “mixed sex”, whatever that is. It seems an unsavoury habit, and I will not go down that particular street of seediness, at least today.
I haven’t had to stay in hospital for over 30 years (no, not many people have, I hear you wittily say, you would have to be very ill). It is over 30 years ago since I had to stay in hospital, there, is that better? My dentist took exception to the sight of my tonsils and decided that he would refer me to the fang-fondler in chief at the royal infirmary to have my wisdom teeth pulled out. I can recall little of my sojourn; particularly I do not remember harbouring feelings of antipathy towards my fellow patients. These days I am probably more choosey about night-time company, and I wish Jennifer Aniston would stop pestering me about the subject.
Normally, I would feel supportive of proposals to bring practice in line with the desires of the majority. Hospital accommodation is not a topic which vexes me greatly, but I would, all things being equal, go along with the consensus.
But, you see, things are not equal. This measure is being proposed by the Tories. I am therefore beginning a campaign for open plan hospitals, merged with veterinary hospitals. When you come round from your anaesthetic after having your gall bladder scraped, you may be in a bed/compound/sty next to a Thompson’s gazelle suffering from chilblains. This may seem harsh, but if the Tories want it, it must be wrong.
If Cameron announces world peace, I shall take to the streets with a grenade launcher. If Lickspittle Lansley announces a return to the days of “free at point of delivery” and the abolition of trusts and private hospitals, I shall buy shares in BUPA. If Gormless Gove proposes an education system based upon the writings of Kropotkin, I shall demand tougher control. If Halfwit Huhne announces a system of tax based entirely upon environment impact, I shall burn my refrigerator in a national park. Fuck ‘em. Unless they bring in a policy proclaiming free love, in which case I shall be celibate.
9 comments:
I believe this policy was in at least two Labour manifestos, so, as politicians always keep their promises, there are clearly no mixed-sex (always the best kind, in my opinion) wards left to be abolished.
I hope this helps.
The Meaning of Liff (a sort of updated Devil's Dictionary, pubd. about 30 years ago, mostly tedious and unfunny) gave the definition of 'Cranleigh' as an irrational irritation with everyone and everything.
In this context I like to think of you as having a garden chalet or summer-house, with hollyhocks and larkspur round the door, styled the 'Cranleigh' which you find conducive to being irritated in. Rationally, of course.
seeing as I don't do rude, even here, I can't comment on the topic in hand
however, I did have my wisom teeth out around 30 years ago
I hope that helps
The last time I stayed in hospital, I'd left my lights on and flattened my car battery while visiting your cousin. They allowed my to sleep in the day room and fed me toast and Bovril. It was a mixed-sex ward and the staff were mixed-sex as well. It was the NHS at its best.
I still have my The Meaning of Liff. For the last 25 years or so I've always called the independently-minded wheel on a supermarket trolley a motspur.
Dave. No, it doesn't.
Christopher. Thanks for being taken in.
ILTV. I cannot comment about the helpfulness of your lack of wisdom teeth. I would not presume.
Richard. Thank you for the warning. I did not realise that the NHS did car maintenance, or indeed that leaving car lights on resulted in a hospital visit. You helped far more than those above who expressed the desire to have so done.
No, they didn't do any car maintenance but the next morning the facilities manager drove me to his home to pick up a pair of jump leads, which I thought was very nice of him. And all this in Hazel Bleaarghs' constituency, too.
Wouldn't happen under the bloody Tories.
Hello. I suppose you'll be wanting your wheels clamped, then?
I'll bring the truck round.
p.s. my word verification is "inexac" ...which is pleasing in ways I can't fully put into words
Broken biro. I need my car for the North East Hampshire Tory cull. It is easier to mow them down when motorised.
well I had me wisdom teeth extracted about 30 years ago and also still have my copy of The Meaning of Liff - does this mean something?
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