Tag Archives: demoralised

Open Letter to David Cameron – Our Silent PM

This was written by the father of a UK doctor. He lives in Sweden but is speaking out to save our NHS. If you share his sentiments. Reblog or share my link. Please.

Sir,
Your silence in the matter of the NHS and Junior doctors is conspicuous and indicates your silent approval of the Health Secretary and his policies.

This is not a matter only between Mr. Jeremy Hunt, the NHS, and junior doctors. In fact, this concerns everyone, from a child yet to be born to the elderly person counting the last breath and every one in between. Therefore your intervention is of vital importance to the national interest.

It is also very painful to see how ruthlessly and insensitively you treat the elite youth of your society. The youth who have chosen to indulge in the service of people of your nation, day and night, ignoring their own comfort and social life. They are the foundation of health and wellbeing of your nation of which, I am sure, you are proud of.

I have seen the plight of junior doctors. They are working day and night, have no control over their week-ends or holidays, when on call they have to be available for up to 48 hours. They cannot think of taking leave irrespective of personal urgency. In spite of all this they are single-mindedly devoted to their duties and responsibilities and have never asked for a pay rise. They are just short of being slave driven. To add ridicule and insult to their calibre, Mr. Jeremy Hunt wants to reduce their pay and increase their working hours (while informing the public he is doing the opposite). All the while he has been projecting them as greedy and an unwilling work-force. You are watching all this silently.

The fact is that junior doctors are tired, fatigued, exhausted, demoralised and yet they stand erect and defend the health system of your nation.

I will spare myself the energy and assume that you know more than I can ever explain. You will be well versed on the internal workings of your own government, therefore, I will draw your attention to a few things which might have escaped your attention. I do not think that this has escaped the attention of Jeremy Hunt because it appears his is a well calculated mission.

First, all signs suggest that you want to privatize the NHS. If that is so, you should come out boldly and declare to the public that you want to do so. Firing the gun from the shoulders of the junior doctors and blaming them is not graceful nor is it worthy of a strong Government. The public who have placed you in the high office have the right to know your plans rather than manipulations. If your Government succeeds, cutting the pay of junior doctors and increasing their working hours, junior doctors will survive in one way or another. However, the entire population of your country will suffer. I do not think that they will forget nor forgive. Therefore, before you dismantle the NHS, it is imperative that you rethink your plans because the health and wellbeing of your country depends on it, and for this, you are directly answerable – even in the future.

Second, the Health Secretary has succeeded in downgrading and vilifying the medical profession as much as possible. Once again, you are a silent witness to this. He has taken away all the motivation and incentive from bright and elite students of your schools and colleges to choose the medical profession. If he is allowed to succeed further, you might find medical colleges left wanting for students. That would create an enormous shortage of qualified and quality doctors in the long run and an ever increasing burden on the health service.

Thirdly, if you and Mr. Jeremy Hunt succeed in privatising the NHS – I can see how this could be the interest of Mr. Jeremy Hunt. Your previous health secretary Mr. Lansley, has recently take a role in a company who is promoting privatisation of The NHS.

If The NHS is short of funds (and we know it is, through systematic underfunding by the government), it is not the fault of junior doctors. On the contrary they have to work even harder without adequate machines, equipment and staff. It is a simple case of mismanagement of finances and mismanagement of administration. Instead of pointing the gun toward the junior doctors – who are the weakest link in the chain of NHS hierarchy – aim your guns at cleaning and pruning the financial management of NHS. Look deeply into it as to why The NHS is in this position.

There are 53000 junior doctors. They are working for at least double that number. Each doctor is giving you output for at least two doctors. Instead of motivating them, patting them on the back, and incentivising them, you want to pull the carpet from under their feet so that all of them tumble down. More worryingly, you are willing to do this on the whims of a few people who may not think beyond their own interests at the cost of the health of your entire nation.

Your junior doctors are dedicated, hardworking and responsible. They are the future specialists, researchers and innovators. They are the backbone of the health system of your country. Give them the respect they deserve. Give them the motivation and sense of worth. Applaud them for having chosen the medical profession.

I have seen them working with dedication and without complaining in spite of all the hardships they face as my son is one of 53000 junior doctors.

This letter is the voice of 106000 parents who are proud of their children and their devotion to the service of people.

Best regards,
Anil Bhatnagar

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Be Your Own Yardstick

I will start by admitting that I, like most other people, did not like the way I looked for a long time. More accurately, I had insecurities about some parts of my body, some of which remain to date albeit in a very passive way. So I understand that as humans, we always want what we don’t or can’t have. I have worked very hard not to measure myself against people who bear no resemblance to me. I realised very early on that my genetics are out of my control so wanting to be someone completely different was a futile aspiration.

I have always been skinny or more politically correctly slim. I used to hate the word skinny when I was a teenager because to me, it represented a person who was gawky, awkward, boy-like and unattractive as a young woman. I realise that most girls put on weight around puberty and looking at the stick-thin waifs gracing runways, magazines and Hollywood movies, it is easy to see why they would aspire to be skinny like I was. I was completely oblivious to this as I was quite the tomboy and did not have any time for magazines when I was around puberty. The movies I loved were mostly animation and even if the girls/women portrayed in most Disney movies were on the smaller side, they all had the beautiful curves I adored. My mother has lovely feminine curves and so does my glamorous older sister. Perhaps being African where the culture predominantly celebrates curvaceous women had a bigger influence than I was conscious of too. My celebrity role models were Halle Berry, Julia Roberts, Jennifer Lopez and later Beyoncé and Alicia Keys all of whom have (and celebrate their) curves. All of those things meant that instead of the usual Western ideals of being a size 6, I was self-conscious. I wanted to be bootylicious and packaged in a short petite perfectly proportion frame.

The worse part for me was having to go shopping. Again, another aspect where I differ from the norm. It probably started out because I used to accompany my grandmother to the market in Lagos and she used to take her time visiting stall after stall finding the best quality food for the best price. I would follow impatiently, wishing she would speed up and within an hour, I would develop a painful ‘stitch’ in my side, making me want to sit on the ground (a massive no-no as it was rather murky in Lagos markets).

As I grew older and had to start participating in shopping for my own clothes, it was okay because my mama like me is impatient with shopping and she used to be quite military with it. When I became an adolescent, my mama decided to give me money for clothes shopping and it became my responsibility. The shoes, underwear and bags were easy enough because it was just a matter of looking to see what caught my eye. Clothes on the other hand was a nightmare! I vividly remember days coming back dejectedly after 6 hours on Oxford Street in London and trying on top after top and jeans after jeans and none of them fitting well. I would look in the mirror and see this anorexic figure staring back at me. Some of those days, I would be so demoralised that I would cry. Thankfully, although I haven’t put on much weight over the years, I have acquired some (slight) curves which means that I am now a proud standard size 6 or 8 depending on the shop. I can confidently go out to buy new clothes knowing now I will find things that fit. It is just a matter of finding the style I want for the price I am willing to pay for it.

The lesson I taught myself early on was that there is no use aspiring to become curvaceous like J-Lo overnight. Rationally I knew I was going through puberty and it would take time before I developed curves. Also I had seen pictures of my mama in her 20s (pre-children) and she didn’t have much in the way of curves back then. I also looked around my family and realised that most of the young girls were rather skinny. Fulanis in general are skinny folk anyway (think Masai-like physique, same ancestry). I would tell myself that just because Britain was predominantly British and it catered to the genetic makeup of that population did not make me unattractive. Many of my friends and family told me countless times that they would rather have my body than theirs but I thought they were lying to boost my confidence. I only started to believe them once I grew my curves and became more body-confident and got strangers complimenting the way I looked.

I am still not a massive fan of the mirror and often forget to look at myself in it. I still find some of my features surprising and often when someone mentions something about my facial features, I have to go and look in the mirror to work out what they are talking about. I’ll give you a classic example of my lack of self-awareness. I was 14 years old when my sister and I went into a shop I had never been too. I turned a corner and caught sight of a girl who I thought looked vaguely familiar and I mentioned that to my sister casually. It probably didn’t help that at that age, I was still in denial about my short-sightedness so did not have perfect vision. My sister looked at with a smile like I had made one of my endless jests. I was confused. It dawned on her in seconds that I genuinely had seen myself and did not realise it was me staring back from the mirror. Oh well!

In general, I guess it is a good thing that I am not self-conscious about what others see when they look at me. I care more about presenting a professional look when I am at work and a ‘nice’ look outside of that. All my adult life, I have chosen an extra 5 minutes in bed over putting on makeup in the morning. Thankfully, being sexy or desirable are not issues I care about. My dear husband assures me that I have those characteristics in abundance anyway and it is only in his eyes that it is important I am those. To anyone else, it really doesn’t matter to me what they think of how I look as long as they see that I am a decent and caring girl inside.

My message is simple – I value what sort of a person I am inside more than out and because of that I do not compare my ‘beauty’ to others. I have simply learnt to embrace and even love the body I was blessed with. I see beauty in all body sizes and shapes, colour, height etcetera. As Christina Aguilera says in her song Beautiful and I paraphrase – ‘I am beautiful, no matter what they say. Yes, words can’t bring me down. I am beautiful in every single way. Yes, words can’t bring me down…Oh no! So don’t you bring me down today…And everywhere I go, the sun will always shine.’ Preach! Belief in your beauty, regardless of what people say because there will always be critics but that is their problem, not yours my friend.