Wednesday, 8 March 2006
Patricia Hewitt; lying raised almost to the level of art
Dr Crippen has been taking a look at the Clinical Advisory Liaison Service (CALS), and swiftly concludes it is a piece of shit. Well worth reading; the insanities of the NHS in microcosm.
Meanwhile, I was amused to see this statement by one of the worst people on Earth, Patricia Hewitt:
Patricia Hewitt has rejected claims that the Government forced Sir Nigel Crisp to resign as chief executive of the NHS, and insisted that she should be "judged" on her success in restoring the health service to financial balance by 2008.
Asked if she would resign if the problems were not resolved, Miss Hewitt said: "I take responsibility for this." She added: "I would be expected to be judged on my success, our success, in achieving that and in restoring the NHS to financial balance over the next financial year."
Note the subtle elision of "my" into "our" there, and the way in which a question about resignation is smoothly turned into a vague bromide about responsibility. The truth is that la Hewitt has let Crisp take the rap for something which is her responsibility, ie that the NHS is running up mountains of debt like a drunken gambler.
Nu Labour ministers have learned from the mistakes of the likes of John Prescott, who once famously said: "I will have failed if in five years' time there are not many more people using public transport and far fewer journeys by car. It's a tall order, but I urge you to hold me to it." When Friends of the Earth attempted to do exactly that five years later, Prescott flatly denied making the pledge.
Given that ministers have now taken lying to a new and entirely novel dimension, standing up with a straight face and denying uttering words which are a matter of public record, we should not hold our breath for la Hewitt to fall on her sword any time soon, any more than the blessed Tessa will.
In an ideal world, I would like to take Patricia Hewitt, tie her up, and slowly feed her into the propeller of a DC-3 - feet-first, naturally, so I could see that condescending fucking face contort in agony. I'd let the blades shear off her legs, and then hand her a mobile and dial NHS Direct, see how much fucking use that would be to her with some cretin in a call centre in Chelmsford asking her where it hurts, the patronising, incompetent, self-obsessed bitch. Later, after she'd expired from blood loss while waiting, in vain, for an ambulance that never came, I'd beat the corpse to a bloody pulp with a bound copy of one of her stupid fucking White Papers, until the only sign that this had been Her Majesty's Secretary of State for Health was the cheering crowd willing me onwards to commit ever greater acts of depravity against the lifeless body.
But I'd probably be breaking some law or other, so I won't.
Related posts:
Patricia Hewitt + rusty saw + bucketful of plague rats = better world
Patricia Hewitt should mind her own fucking business and not try to ruin my life and fuck off back to Australia, preferably for ever and ever
Closing hospitals in Tory seats
Patsy: localisation through centralisation, closing hospitals to improve them, and so forth
Doublethink at the DoH
Two birds with one nail
Comments:
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Oh boy, I think reading you and Devil's Kitchen is going to damage my psyche. What a joy.
Having tried phoning NHS Direct as an experiment I know what happens. I shake with mirth at the idea of the nurse specialist looking for the "being inserted feet first into a jet engine protocol...." and after 10 minutes saying, I would advise you to call your doctor.
Sadly, failure in the NHS is now called "success" and is rewarded with early retirement, a £2million pension pot and a seat in the House of Lords
John
Having tried phoning NHS Direct as an experiment I know what happens. I shake with mirth at the idea of the nurse specialist looking for the "being inserted feet first into a jet engine protocol...." and after 10 minutes saying, I would advise you to call your doctor.
Sadly, failure in the NHS is now called "success" and is rewarded with early retirement, a £2million pension pot and a seat in the House of Lords
John
Having called NHS Direct in an unidentified but serious situation, I can vouch for the utter innanity of their advice. After 20 mins of blither and page rattling, I was told nobody was available to help and I'd be better off calling an ambulance.
In Patsy's eyes thats a measureable result. It turned out to be MRSA infection anyway...
In Patsy's eyes thats a measureable result. It turned out to be MRSA infection anyway...
The "being inserted feet first into a jet engine protocol...." should of course be the propellor arc of a Pratt & Whitney Twin Wasp radial engine if in strictly keeping to the use of a DC-3 to deal with Hewitt.
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