Those of you unfortunate enough to know me and have spent any time in my presence over the last year will know I've been getting some refurbishment done to my house. I know, I know #moetmedics, probably just having another wing added on etc...
During this time, where the builder has not-quite-got-round-to-installing my kitchen over a period of 6 months whilst ironically moaning at every turn about how the NHS is terrible and doctors don't know what they are doing, it got me to thinking:
What if the NHS was staffed by tradesmen?
So a case study then, say your child has Meningitis. And if certain consultants were to have their way, EVERYONE'S baby would ALWAYS have meningitis (even when it was actually just a cold, or indeed, nothing at all).
First you'd spend several days to months trying to find someone who actually gives a shit. You'd ring a couple of people that your friends recommended like 'Trusty Dave - no infection too big, no platelet level too small' who would ignore all your voicemails and texts and 'Honest Gav - we put the apostrophe in "days a week"' who would actually answer, promise to ring you back later that day and then, one presumes, run away to Mexico never to be seen again.
In a situation where you were relying on these charlatans to, like, repair a wall you'd like to believe that you have the option of saying 'fuck you, if you don't want my money I'll find someone else'. Unfortunately, that isn't the case because everyone. is. the. same.
In this case, we're a bit more worried about our meningitic little Kyler-rae, who appears to be expiring rapidly during the 6-8m process of actually finding a doctor. One might resort to using 'TrustADoctor .com', the tradesperson equivalent of internet dating. You have to set up a profile that makes you seem like a good bloke to work for, without appearing to have too much disposable income and to not be overly bitter about all those ex-builders who broke up with you via text.
"Hey guys,
My name's Geoff. Still getting used to writing one of these things haha but my friend said I should try it and I amcripplingly alone worried about my little boy so thought I'd give it a shot.
I guess all I'm really looking for someonewho's funny, intelligent, attractive, talented, down to earth who can treat my child who is looking rather grey at the moment and I don't mean in a Hamilton-post-child-shooting way.
I enjoy going out for drinks and food but also staying in and having a cosy night on the sofa with some wine. I also love travelling, music, art, film and a variety of things that literally everyone likes. I really don't want someone who just wants to come, save my child's life, and then leave so please don't message me asking for that.
Anyway would be really great if someone could contact me.
Geoff
P.S. Don't even bother if you're only going to say "Hi, what's his CRP level" or "Is the rash in the SVC distribution only?" I will NOT respond."
Eventually you might find a builder who actually responds and comes to take a look.
"Oooooo", he might say, reviewing your child with a sharp indrawing of breath, "looks like a big job that, dunno if it's really worth it"
"But it's my son?!"
"Well, you're the boss I suppose, but if I were you, I'd have the 'ole thing ripped out and new one put in. By which I'm referring to his cardiovascular system"
"OK well, if that's what you think is best"
"Oooooh I'm no expert mate, I'm just saying that's what I'd do"
"OK well, then do that?"
"If you're sure mate, I mean it is completely up to you. I just do whatever you need"
Following this discussion a quote will come through. Not, like, quickly or anything, but only several weeks later after "the e-mail system lost it" or "the computer went down and had to be fixed". This quote would be probably 10-15x as much as you expected to pay but as literally no-one else will answer your calls and your child is now displaying Chayne-Stokes respirations you have no choice but to go ahead.
For several more weeks the Doctor/builder/whatever I'm calling them in this rant, will promise to start 'this week' and then proceed to do sweet FA. There will, of course, be no phone call explaining that "sorry, there was child down Ilkeston Road who's entire face needed repointing so had to go to him first" just silence until you call up and receive an automatically generated excuse response "Sorry mate, yea it's just that the van went in for its MOT and then it turned into a haggis and so couldn't drive anywhere. Total nightmare you understand. Then after that my auntie got ill with Dengue-fever and was in hospital and my kid stole a bicycle and rode it to Milan using only one leg. Anyway we'll be there this week..."
On the first day of actual work, all manner of exciting (but soon to be very boring things) will happen that will make you feel like you're actually making progress. Perhaps your son will have lots of blood tests taken and an MRI of his left thumb. In addition, things will be done that will be of a great inconvenience to you for the remainder of the work that didn't need to happen at this stage and will not be rectified until the last day of work is complete: in this case they might remove your child's eyes or something.
Your elation at this work being done will soon deflate like a souffle when the buildoctor comes to you midway through the day. "Just got the blood results back mate, looks like his CRP is really raised, this is gonna need IV antibiotics, which will be extra as we didn't think we'd be needing them"
"Oh right because I did say I wanted IV antibiotics when you came round first time..."
"Yea, yea, but that was for IV benzyl penicillin, he's gonna need cefotaxime, his calcium is a bit low and he needs that for inotropy and coagulation."
"Fine then, let's do that"
"Yea problem is, we'd have to order than in from the supplier and it's gonna take probably another 6-8 weeks to arrive"
"Sigh"
"Other thing. We tried cannulating him in the hand but, I dunno who built this child, but the veins are terrible. They should have 25mil veins installed there but someone's put in 15mil."
"What does that mean?"
"Wellllll", more breath indrawing, "we can either try and put a cannula in his antecubital fossa, but then you run the risk of infusions failing to run through it when he bends his elbow, or we could do one in his head"
"OK well what ever you need to get those life saving antibiotics in, thank you". Is the response that anyone would then give, right?
After this flurry of excitement, little else will happen. In trying to investigate this you receive a reply: "Oh yea mate, we're just waiting on the Lumbar Puncturer, he's been tied up on another job and recons he won't be able to make it for another couple of weeks"
"1. Why can't you do the lumbar puncture yourself, I've literally seen you doing lumbar punctures elsewhere?"
"Ah yea, but it's all about the certification and the regs mate, like if I do the puncturing and then you get a leaky subarachnoid space them I'm not covered on the insurance"
"2. OK fair enough... but couldn't one of the 100,000 other Lumbar Puncturers come and do it, why does it need to be that guy?"
"Yea just aren't many guys around at the moment capable of it" [Code for: I only use one guy, and he's the cheapest]
Eventually the Lumbar Puncturer comes, probably at 6am on your one day off from work but you're happy about this anyway because your child is having seizures and, frankly, it's keeping you awake with all the banging.
"Jeeeeeeez", more indrawing of breath (Sensodyne must make a killing off all these trades people because when I indraw breath through my teeth like that it stings like a bitch) "Dunno who did these last puncturings mate but they did a TERRIBLE job. Look at these needle marks, completely in the wrong place." he critiques before adding, to assure you of his superior skill in this area, "Personally I always make sure I'm in the L3/4 intervertebral space BEFORE infiltrating the 0.1% lidocaine, always gives a smoother finish"
Four hours later:
"Hey mate, yea sorry, wasn't able to get the lumbar puncture, we'll try again next week"
After a long. LONG. Time the antibiotics will be given and the LP will be done and your child might get better (I mean, not really he'd have died way WAY before you even managed to get someone to answer their FUCKING PHONE). But after a few days he'd seem to get unwell again, you'd try calling the buildoctor and no answer. Foolishly you paid the full balance (of probably tens of thousands of pounds) and he too, is now in Mexico.
"Man, there must be a way of, like, reporting this guy to some kind of supervisory council. Preferably one that he himself has to pay $$$ every year to be judged by." You think
Sadly no such accountability exists in tradesperson land. You can't even take them to court and spend billions of pounds of taxpayers money needlessly witchhunting them, nor can you sell your story to the Daily Mail for $$$. All you can do is start over again trying to find someone who doesn't suck balls.
The reverse: if the NHS were builders
Imagine something terrible has happened. Something awful. Your fears are at their highest, you're panicking and you don't know what to do:
The towel rail has fallen down, and it's 3am.
You ring the emergency out of hours service, your anger levels rising as it takes them 3. full. minutes to answer.
"Hello, what's your emergency?"
"My towel rail has fallen down, I don't know what to do!?"
"OK well stay calm, sir, how long has it been on the floor?"
"I don't know maybe 10-20minutes, my towels are cooling by the second"
"First thing is to relax, have you got any other means of slightly warming your towels?"
"I mean, I have the radiators and the towel rail in the other bathroom and my dedicated WarmMeister 3000 towel-heating system in the basement but all of them are a mild inconvenience to use"
"Potentially, it might be best to wait until the morning, as your towels will probably not decompose into their composite threads due to low temperature before then"
"MORNING? No I cannot wait until then, it's 3am and the only thing I care about, more, it would seem than sleep, or public spending limits, is getting my towel rail seen to as a dire emergency"
"No problem I'll send an ambulance right away"
Enragingly the ambulance, busy dealing with a house that just fell down leaving a family outside in the cold and a boiler in northern Novoscotia that heats an orphanage shutting down on the coldest winter night since the last ice age, takes over 15 minutes to get to your house. By this time the towels can barely be described as 'luxuriantly toasty'.
You are rushed into Baccident and Bemergency, the builder equivalent of the ER, cradling the towel rail with it's associated Wall plugs and bits of plasterboard. You start fuming as someone who came in mere seconds after you, not even in an ambulance, gets rushed through as they explain that the beam that supports their hallway landing has collapsed.
"BUT I CAME BY AMBULANCE! I SHOULD BE FIRST" you scream after them.
What seems like an eon later (~23s) a polite, well dressed, Burse (builder nurse) comes and calls you through to Briage (builder triage... you think this is getting old yet, you just wait) and politely (yes, I used that word again) listens as you exasperatedly whine to her both about the devastating concern RE: the towels but also the terrible service you have so far endured.
"Ok well it's been a very busy night, there's been a major cement-based incident and so our Boctors are very busy and it will be BNHS mandated four hour maximum wait until you're seen. We'll get to you as soon as we can, however, other patients may get seen before you"
You are forced to wait in an extremely clean and nicely presented waiting area, where there are loads of fun... grouts and drillbits (...getting abstract) for your.... towel... rail to play with?! while you wait. Despite being told not to, you repeatedly go and harrass the Boctors and Burses who seem to be spending all their time typing into computers and occasionally sipping at things that threaten to maintain their, you know, life for enough hours to get through the shift. Each time they politely tell you to wait.
In the end, after a disgusting 90 minute wait, a friendly-despite-the-horrible-hour Boctor comes and takes you to be seen. After thoroughly examining your towel rail they say:
"Well the good news is that nothing major seems to be damaged. I think we can probably just give you some 'No-more-nails' to take home with you and you can glue it right back on"
"What? But it fell off, in the night, for no reason. It must be something more serious"
"No, not really, I can see from the type of plasterboard attached that it's probably just been weakened by your 60 a day smoking habit and poor life choices"
"Well that's not good enough I want a more senior Boctor"
"I am, in fact the seniorist of Boctors in the hospital right now. If you want I can call the Consultant in from home, even though that would require them to work 72hrs in a row and put countless others in danger if you'd like?"
"Yes I would"
"OK well that will take about 20 minutes and I assure you, they WILL diagnose your towel rail with meningitis and start IV antibiotics and do all sorts of horrible tests on it"
"IV Antibiotics?! no I don't want any needles"
"Then what do you want?"
"I dunno, you're the boctor"
"Well I say your towel rail is fine, it just needs a bit of adhesive"
"Very well, but if anything bad ever happens to me or my towels ever again then I'm suing you, sending you to prison and writing a bitchy article about it in the Daily Mail. And it doesn't matter how in the right you are because even if the courts decide in your favour (50:50 chance) then it will never get reported and the public will hate you forever. BUAHAHAHAHA" and POOF you're gone in a puff of green smoke.
Total cost to you: £0
Total time taken to sort: 2hrs
and THAT is why the NHS is doomed to fail... it's too damned good, even as a building firm!
During this time, where the builder has not-quite-got-round-to-installing my kitchen over a period of 6 months whilst ironically moaning at every turn about how the NHS is terrible and doctors don't know what they are doing, it got me to thinking:
What if the NHS was staffed by tradesmen?
So a case study then, say your child has Meningitis. And if certain consultants were to have their way, EVERYONE'S baby would ALWAYS have meningitis (even when it was actually just a cold, or indeed, nothing at all).
First you'd spend several days to months trying to find someone who actually gives a shit. You'd ring a couple of people that your friends recommended like 'Trusty Dave - no infection too big, no platelet level too small' who would ignore all your voicemails and texts and 'Honest Gav - we put the apostrophe in "days a week"' who would actually answer, promise to ring you back later that day and then, one presumes, run away to Mexico never to be seen again.
In a situation where you were relying on these charlatans to, like, repair a wall you'd like to believe that you have the option of saying 'fuck you, if you don't want my money I'll find someone else'. Unfortunately, that isn't the case because everyone. is. the. same.
In this case, we're a bit more worried about our meningitic little Kyler-rae, who appears to be expiring rapidly during the 6-8m process of actually finding a doctor. One might resort to using 'TrustADoctor .com', the tradesperson equivalent of internet dating. You have to set up a profile that makes you seem like a good bloke to work for, without appearing to have too much disposable income and to not be overly bitter about all those ex-builders who broke up with you via text.
"Hey guys,
My name's Geoff. Still getting used to writing one of these things haha but my friend said I should try it and I am
I guess all I'm really looking for someone
I enjoy going out for drinks and food but also staying in and having a cosy night on the sofa with some wine. I also love travelling, music, art, film and a variety of things that literally everyone likes. I really don't want someone who just wants to come, save my child's life, and then leave so please don't message me asking for that.
Anyway would be really great if someone could contact me.
Geoff
P.S. Don't even bother if you're only going to say "Hi, what's his CRP level" or "Is the rash in the SVC distribution only?" I will NOT respond."
Eventually you might find a builder who actually responds and comes to take a look.
"Oooooo", he might say, reviewing your child with a sharp indrawing of breath, "looks like a big job that, dunno if it's really worth it"
"But it's my son?!"
"Well, you're the boss I suppose, but if I were you, I'd have the 'ole thing ripped out and new one put in. By which I'm referring to his cardiovascular system"
"OK well, if that's what you think is best"
"Oooooh I'm no expert mate, I'm just saying that's what I'd do"
"OK well, then do that?"
"If you're sure mate, I mean it is completely up to you. I just do whatever you need"
Following this discussion a quote will come through. Not, like, quickly or anything, but only several weeks later after "the e-mail system lost it" or "the computer went down and had to be fixed". This quote would be probably 10-15x as much as you expected to pay but as literally no-one else will answer your calls and your child is now displaying Chayne-Stokes respirations you have no choice but to go ahead.
For several more weeks the Doctor/builder/whatever I'm calling them in this rant, will promise to start 'this week' and then proceed to do sweet FA. There will, of course, be no phone call explaining that "sorry, there was child down Ilkeston Road who's entire face needed repointing so had to go to him first" just silence until you call up and receive an automatically generated excuse response "Sorry mate, yea it's just that the van went in for its MOT and then it turned into a haggis and so couldn't drive anywhere. Total nightmare you understand. Then after that my auntie got ill with Dengue-fever and was in hospital and my kid stole a bicycle and rode it to Milan using only one leg. Anyway we'll be there this week..."
On the first day of actual work, all manner of exciting (but soon to be very boring things) will happen that will make you feel like you're actually making progress. Perhaps your son will have lots of blood tests taken and an MRI of his left thumb. In addition, things will be done that will be of a great inconvenience to you for the remainder of the work that didn't need to happen at this stage and will not be rectified until the last day of work is complete: in this case they might remove your child's eyes or something.
Your elation at this work being done will soon deflate like a souffle when the buildoctor comes to you midway through the day. "Just got the blood results back mate, looks like his CRP is really raised, this is gonna need IV antibiotics, which will be extra as we didn't think we'd be needing them"
"Oh right because I did say I wanted IV antibiotics when you came round first time..."
"Yea, yea, but that was for IV benzyl penicillin, he's gonna need cefotaxime, his calcium is a bit low and he needs that for inotropy and coagulation."
"Fine then, let's do that"
"Yea problem is, we'd have to order than in from the supplier and it's gonna take probably another 6-8 weeks to arrive"
"Sigh"
"Other thing. We tried cannulating him in the hand but, I dunno who built this child, but the veins are terrible. They should have 25mil veins installed there but someone's put in 15mil."
"What does that mean?"
"Wellllll", more breath indrawing, "we can either try and put a cannula in his antecubital fossa, but then you run the risk of infusions failing to run through it when he bends his elbow, or we could do one in his head"
"OK well what ever you need to get those life saving antibiotics in, thank you". Is the response that anyone would then give, right?
After this flurry of excitement, little else will happen. In trying to investigate this you receive a reply: "Oh yea mate, we're just waiting on the Lumbar Puncturer, he's been tied up on another job and recons he won't be able to make it for another couple of weeks"
"1. Why can't you do the lumbar puncture yourself, I've literally seen you doing lumbar punctures elsewhere?"
"Ah yea, but it's all about the certification and the regs mate, like if I do the puncturing and then you get a leaky subarachnoid space them I'm not covered on the insurance"
"2. OK fair enough... but couldn't one of the 100,000 other Lumbar Puncturers come and do it, why does it need to be that guy?"
"Yea just aren't many guys around at the moment capable of it" [Code for: I only use one guy, and he's the cheapest]
Eventually the Lumbar Puncturer comes, probably at 6am on your one day off from work but you're happy about this anyway because your child is having seizures and, frankly, it's keeping you awake with all the banging.
"Jeeeeeeez", more indrawing of breath (Sensodyne must make a killing off all these trades people because when I indraw breath through my teeth like that it stings like a bitch) "Dunno who did these last puncturings mate but they did a TERRIBLE job. Look at these needle marks, completely in the wrong place." he critiques before adding, to assure you of his superior skill in this area, "Personally I always make sure I'm in the L3/4 intervertebral space BEFORE infiltrating the 0.1% lidocaine, always gives a smoother finish"
Four hours later:
"Hey mate, yea sorry, wasn't able to get the lumbar puncture, we'll try again next week"
After a long. LONG. Time the antibiotics will be given and the LP will be done and your child might get better (I mean, not really he'd have died way WAY before you even managed to get someone to answer their FUCKING PHONE). But after a few days he'd seem to get unwell again, you'd try calling the buildoctor and no answer. Foolishly you paid the full balance (of probably tens of thousands of pounds) and he too, is now in Mexico.
"Man, there must be a way of, like, reporting this guy to some kind of supervisory council. Preferably one that he himself has to pay $$$ every year to be judged by." You think
Sadly no such accountability exists in tradesperson land. You can't even take them to court and spend billions of pounds of taxpayers money needlessly witchhunting them, nor can you sell your story to the Daily Mail for $$$. All you can do is start over again trying to find someone who doesn't suck balls.
The reverse: if the NHS were builders
Imagine something terrible has happened. Something awful. Your fears are at their highest, you're panicking and you don't know what to do:
The towel rail has fallen down, and it's 3am.
You ring the emergency out of hours service, your anger levels rising as it takes them 3. full. minutes to answer.
"Hello, what's your emergency?"
"My towel rail has fallen down, I don't know what to do!?"
"OK well stay calm, sir, how long has it been on the floor?"
"I don't know maybe 10-20minutes, my towels are cooling by the second"
"First thing is to relax, have you got any other means of slightly warming your towels?"
"I mean, I have the radiators and the towel rail in the other bathroom and my dedicated WarmMeister 3000 towel-heating system in the basement but all of them are a mild inconvenience to use"
"Potentially, it might be best to wait until the morning, as your towels will probably not decompose into their composite threads due to low temperature before then"
"MORNING? No I cannot wait until then, it's 3am and the only thing I care about, more, it would seem than sleep, or public spending limits, is getting my towel rail seen to as a dire emergency"
"No problem I'll send an ambulance right away"
Enragingly the ambulance, busy dealing with a house that just fell down leaving a family outside in the cold and a boiler in northern Novoscotia that heats an orphanage shutting down on the coldest winter night since the last ice age, takes over 15 minutes to get to your house. By this time the towels can barely be described as 'luxuriantly toasty'.
You are rushed into Baccident and Bemergency, the builder equivalent of the ER, cradling the towel rail with it's associated Wall plugs and bits of plasterboard. You start fuming as someone who came in mere seconds after you, not even in an ambulance, gets rushed through as they explain that the beam that supports their hallway landing has collapsed.
"BUT I CAME BY AMBULANCE! I SHOULD BE FIRST" you scream after them.
What seems like an eon later (~23s) a polite, well dressed, Burse (builder nurse) comes and calls you through to Briage (builder triage... you think this is getting old yet, you just wait) and politely (yes, I used that word again) listens as you exasperatedly whine to her both about the devastating concern RE: the towels but also the terrible service you have so far endured.
"Ok well it's been a very busy night, there's been a major cement-based incident and so our Boctors are very busy and it will be BNHS mandated four hour maximum wait until you're seen. We'll get to you as soon as we can, however, other patients may get seen before you"
You are forced to wait in an extremely clean and nicely presented waiting area, where there are loads of fun... grouts and drillbits (...getting abstract) for your.... towel... rail to play with?! while you wait. Despite being told not to, you repeatedly go and harrass the Boctors and Burses who seem to be spending all their time typing into computers and occasionally sipping at things that threaten to maintain their, you know, life for enough hours to get through the shift. Each time they politely tell you to wait.
In the end, after a disgusting 90 minute wait, a friendly-despite-the-horrible-hour Boctor comes and takes you to be seen. After thoroughly examining your towel rail they say:
"Well the good news is that nothing major seems to be damaged. I think we can probably just give you some 'No-more-nails' to take home with you and you can glue it right back on"
"What? But it fell off, in the night, for no reason. It must be something more serious"
"No, not really, I can see from the type of plasterboard attached that it's probably just been weakened by your 60 a day smoking habit and poor life choices"
"Well that's not good enough I want a more senior Boctor"
"I am, in fact the seniorist of Boctors in the hospital right now. If you want I can call the Consultant in from home, even though that would require them to work 72hrs in a row and put countless others in danger if you'd like?"
"Yes I would"
"OK well that will take about 20 minutes and I assure you, they WILL diagnose your towel rail with meningitis and start IV antibiotics and do all sorts of horrible tests on it"
"IV Antibiotics?! no I don't want any needles"
"Then what do you want?"
"I dunno, you're the boctor"
"Well I say your towel rail is fine, it just needs a bit of adhesive"
"Very well, but if anything bad ever happens to me or my towels ever again then I'm suing you, sending you to prison and writing a bitchy article about it in the Daily Mail. And it doesn't matter how in the right you are because even if the courts decide in your favour (50:50 chance) then it will never get reported and the public will hate you forever. BUAHAHAHAHA" and POOF you're gone in a puff of green smoke.
Total cost to you: £0
Total time taken to sort: 2hrs
and THAT is why the NHS is doomed to fail... it's too damned good, even as a building firm!
Comments
Post a Comment