
Laurie Graham has narrated this article for you to listen to.
Nye Bevan did not make old bones, and perhaps that’s just as well. According to a recent British Social Attitudes survey, 52 per cent of those polled are dissatisfied with the NHS, in particular with the difficulties in getting a GP appointment, with long A&E trolley waits and with huge delays for hospital appointments. All this, in spite of ever more money being chucked into its maw.
If invited, I could immediately save the NHS a packet by dialling down the thermostat that has turned hospitals into Hotel Tropicana for bacteria, and by asking, wherever possible, patients’ relatives to provide food, thereby reducing the amount of unappetising slop that goes straight from plate to bin while the sick go hungry. But that is not my theme today. My theme is something rather clever invented by NHS thinkers to distract us from our dissatisfaction. Window-dressing.
I, like everyone else who cannot afford private healthcare, must join the 8 a.m. scrum to speak to a receptionist and request an appointment with my GP. Fat chance. But that’s not to say I’m ignored or overlooked. I hear from the practice all the time. Invitations to this, online surveys about that. Would I like to complete a questionnaire about my drinking habits? No, thank you. Unless… might this be a devious way of getting called in for a little chat? How many units a week would that take?
Into my inbox the messages ping: how to calculate my BMI; advice on ‘seasonal’ health; an invitation to a coffee morning if I’m feeling lonely.

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