I originally posted this on Facebook, and it had a surprisingly good reaction so I thought I'd share it here too.
"I'm watching tonight's debate and have heartfelt plea to all who read this: please don't cast a vote for any party willing to endorse this idiot. Look at those weasel eyes and tell me you don't want to poke them?
I work in the NHS. Every day at work I see dedicated and talented midwives, doctors and support staff who women and their families are lucky to have looking after them, but they're getting tired. Real-term pay has consistently shrunk for many years, patient volume and complexity is increasing, and the copious amounts of micropore used to repair the giant cracks in the NHS won't hold for much longer. I think the mood of the NHS can be judged by student midwives: there were 10,990 fewer applicants this year for nursing/midwifery courses than the year previously, which is clearly a consequence of the Tory decision to make them pay tuition fees and strip them of their bursaries. Training was 3 years of HARD work, and the bursary was laughable, but it crucially made me feel like part of the NHS in training instead of a fee-paying undergrad. The impact this had on how I felt about working 36 clinical hours a week for £1.92/hr whilst doing a full-time degree was immense; and I just don't see that look of awe or inspiration on many students faces any more. I find that terrifying.
The NHS has functioned on the goodwill of its staff long before I've been part of it (2012), and that's dwindling. I don't know many NHS workers not experiencing some degree of burnout, which is an inevitable consequence of regularly working emotionally and physically exhausting 12.5 hour shifts without a proper break. The 'efficiency savings' (blatant cuts) just keep on happening, and I've lost count of the number of times I've not had the resources to do my job properly or safely. It seems to be at a tipping point now: proper funding, or destruction.
But, by far, I owe the NHS more than it owes me.
I have a rare condition called autoimmune neutropenia, which means I have a weak immune system and can become extremely unwell from minor infections. This has led to many months of hospital admissions with various life-threatening infections, and the NHS has always pulled me through. In 2014 I had meningitis which led to another extremely rare condition called transverse myelitis, and left me unable to stand up for weeks or walk properly for months: I had months of inpatient and outpatient physiotherapy rehabilitation to help me walk again, and they did such a good job that I bet some of you are reading this and learning about the spinal lesion for the first time! Most recently, antibiotics prescribed for a chest infection (a regular occurrence with neutropenia) triggered anaphylactic shock, and my life was once again saved by NHS nurses and paramedics who jabbed me with adrenaline and steroids before I was even aware I was critically unwell.
Sure, the NHS is far from perfect, and I've been on the receiving end of many a sketchy diagnosis or dubious decision, but all's well that ends well! I've frustratedly been kept waiting for hours too, but I always try to remember that I should be feeling sympathy for, and not jealous of, the other patient who a clinician has decided needs to be prioritised above me. Delays and mistakes are never wilful; usually a result of short staffing, too many patients, or lack of resources.
Most people my age have a far cleaner bill of health than I do and are lucky to have not experienced emergency and critical care as a patient, and might not understand why a well-functioning NHS is so absolutely vital. It is: one day you, or someone you love, will become ill and then you'll realise the immense value of the free (at the point of use) treatment and care you receive, without the need to worry about payment or insurance at an already frightening time.
So I'll hope you'll trust me, as someone who knows the NHS very well, and not use your vote to stick another nail in its coffin."
I work in the NHS. Every day at work I see dedicated and talented midwives, doctors and support staff who women and their families are lucky to have looking after them, but they're getting tired. Real-term pay has consistently shrunk for many years, patient volume and complexity is increasing, and the copious amounts of micropore used to repair the giant cracks in the NHS won't hold for much longer. I think the mood of the NHS can be judged by student midwives: there were 10,990 fewer applicants this year for nursing/midwifery courses than the year previously, which is clearly a consequence of the Tory decision to make them pay tuition fees and strip them of their bursaries. Training was 3 years of HARD work, and the bursary was laughable, but it crucially made me feel like part of the NHS in training instead of a fee-paying undergrad. The impact this had on how I felt about working 36 clinical hours a week for £1.92/hr whilst doing a full-time degree was immense; and I just don't see that look of awe or inspiration on many students faces any more. I find that terrifying.
The NHS has functioned on the goodwill of its staff long before I've been part of it (2012), and that's dwindling. I don't know many NHS workers not experiencing some degree of burnout, which is an inevitable consequence of regularly working emotionally and physically exhausting 12.5 hour shifts without a proper break. The 'efficiency savings' (blatant cuts) just keep on happening, and I've lost count of the number of times I've not had the resources to do my job properly or safely. It seems to be at a tipping point now: proper funding, or destruction.
But, by far, I owe the NHS more than it owes me.
I have a rare condition called autoimmune neutropenia, which means I have a weak immune system and can become extremely unwell from minor infections. This has led to many months of hospital admissions with various life-threatening infections, and the NHS has always pulled me through. In 2014 I had meningitis which led to another extremely rare condition called transverse myelitis, and left me unable to stand up for weeks or walk properly for months: I had months of inpatient and outpatient physiotherapy rehabilitation to help me walk again, and they did such a good job that I bet some of you are reading this and learning about the spinal lesion for the first time! Most recently, antibiotics prescribed for a chest infection (a regular occurrence with neutropenia) triggered anaphylactic shock, and my life was once again saved by NHS nurses and paramedics who jabbed me with adrenaline and steroids before I was even aware I was critically unwell.
Sure, the NHS is far from perfect, and I've been on the receiving end of many a sketchy diagnosis or dubious decision, but all's well that ends well! I've frustratedly been kept waiting for hours too, but I always try to remember that I should be feeling sympathy for, and not jealous of, the other patient who a clinician has decided needs to be prioritised above me. Delays and mistakes are never wilful; usually a result of short staffing, too many patients, or lack of resources.
Most people my age have a far cleaner bill of health than I do and are lucky to have not experienced emergency and critical care as a patient, and might not understand why a well-functioning NHS is so absolutely vital. It is: one day you, or someone you love, will become ill and then you'll realise the immense value of the free (at the point of use) treatment and care you receive, without the need to worry about payment or insurance at an already frightening time.
So I'll hope you'll trust me, as someone who knows the NHS very well, and not use your vote to stick another nail in its coffin."
