A preview of Hugo Rifkind’s column in this week’s Spectator, out tomorrow…
Oh, I see. So it’s my fault. There I was, thinking that the general swamping and near collapse of accident and emergency services in hospitals across Britain might be the result of, you know, some sort of systemic problem within the NHS. With me, a mere member of the public, just being an occasional victim. But no! Apparently it’s all because I took my wailing two-year-old daughter in, one Sunday afternoon last year, to get some antibiotics for her ear.
This is good to know. For, had I not been told that all this was the fault of chumps such as me heading to such places for the sorts of trivial ailments better treated by a traditional family doctor, I might in my ignorance have been inclined to blame other people.
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