The news that the Coalition is scrapping NHS Direct is shocking, and bad news for anyone who gets sick. Last year, when ill, I called NHS Direct, and was able to speak to first a nurse, and then eventually, as I needed to, a doctor. The service was courteous and informed. Now we will be directed to people with 60 hours of medical training instead. In the week that the Camerons enjoyed excellent NHS service in Cornwall, such a blow seems low and mean. And many lives will be lost, as misdiagnosed persons are left untreated or misguided - misdirected from the care they deserve.
A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.
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