A Case For the GMC

As some of you know around the time we started this blog my uncle died in horrific circumstances in Hospital and it has only just come before the General Medical Council which will probably produce little result.

There have been arguments over weather it was mansluaghter, murder or gross negligence etc...

I ended up holding Benny down whilst the emergancy physiotherapist attempted to manually pump his lungs out where the feeding tube had been switched on whilst in his lung

This broke his ribs but was the only hope to save his life by this point plus there were many things wrong like no water reservior in the breathing machine so he was drying out. Benny had Downes' Sydrome and was very scared that night, he was getting better and though it could be argued his quality of life was low - he thought he had a good deal as long as there was enough cake.

Basically even if it was done as a mercy act it was definatly NOT, it was horrible and he was scared and the knock on effect in the family where people have held themselves to blame becuase they trusted doctors to know when to switch the feeding machine on. (Benny when scared could fight over being fed).

Anyway - this is not the only case like this I have been hearing off. Al's grandmother was put on a drip with no Gloucose in it (as was Benny and also a friend of mine and Al's who was in hospital due to forgetting to eat :/ ). The Doctors told family that if they fed the old woman they would no longer get any state help to look after her. A nurse has told me a similar story about her grandfather which was one of the reasons she wont work for certain hospital trusts.

So as far as I can tell there is illigal euthenasia in our hospitals or something very amiss in the way we educate drs and nurses! And worse people who want to die and plead are kept alive and those who can not defend themselves are dying in the most horrific ways such as being what amounts to being starved to death or drowned.

I can only hope that it is ineptitude and they aren't really viscous killers and that an education reform could fix these things. My own experience of hospitals is that they are indeed very broken and need a massive over haul. Including sacking all the foot shufflers who pretend they can't here you're heart monitor alarm go off >:(

Anyway I started this post becuase I've written a poem about that night at the hospital and was intending to post it but thought I should add in some background.

A Case for the GMC

Wizzen broken monkey
Skin grey
Wrinkeled crepe paper
Downey whiskers
Sharpe dowdy white
In striped pajarmers
Convict of the ward
On death row
Drowning in food
A mistake
A cull?
Tortured
by those who save
Broken ribs
From pumping you out
Cracked lips
From resusitation
Now blue
Eyes revolve
As a horse in panic
They can not save you
They can't now
But they did not want to
Did they?

Sheds - stress

Barbara came back from holiday yesturday and I excitedly showed her the shed - but I got this sinking feeling that she doesn't remember the two or three conversations we had about putting a shed in early this year

I am now awaiting her getting really upset about the fact that it appeared whilst she was on holiday.

Chaos, Pandamonium and all the other trappins of the Snell-Pym Household

I awake and lo!

A cat was not turfed and instead of mewing to be let out had erm... gone in the corner of the KITCHEN!

So I turfted the Ginger One who shall remain nameless and in disgrace and cleaned it up using up the last of the disinfected in the kitchen.

This took up a big chunk of the getting Jean ready for school time and then I remember - eek she's supposed to have lunch and I start making it whilst Dad panics about her being late.

We get to the school fine and she goes in - then somehow a certain Ginger Rogue has got back into the house and relieved himself again in a HUGE sandy coloured puddle this time in front of the Fridge.

Somehow dad misses this blot on the landscape of my kitchen and walks to the fridge for milk and back to the kettle makes his coffee and walks into the living room and sits down on the setee.

I walk into the kitchen looking for the laundary basket to get the washing in and have... well kittens!

So after having to make a trip upstairs for more disinfectant I clean it all up - putting the tea towel that was too near in the washing machine for a boil wash - I shout at dad and this disrupts a certain Black Cat who jumps onto the coffee table and there by knocks my lunch plate down breaking it in half.

I am just a bit cheesed off shall we say :/

The Cat that Thought She was a Shoe

Dad went to the shoe rack in the kitchen to change into his slippers to go upstairs and read to Jean when he noticed that I had a new pair of fluffy black boots that I had inconsideratly placed upon his slippers.

He grabbed hold of said boots to shift them only to find he had a hand full of a very miffed Mini. To make things worse - he had hold of the the bit with teeth in it!

It made him jump and go 'arg!' and Mini retreated further into the shoe rack where she still remains pretending to be a shoe! Albeit a very cross shoe.

Barbara’s 75th Birthday

Barbara has turned 75! three quarters of a centry so we baked her cake and made some sandwitches and told her to invite some people to dinner.

The cake was chocolate cake with lots of topping as she had said she likes lots of topping! I also put chocolate chips and things on it It was obviously a 75 - Barbara confessed she was scared I'd made a watering can or something tacky like that :/

The cake went down well even if Barbara had phoned Mary in a panic and got her to bring a cake round as I had planned to make the cake Sunday morning so it would be nice and fresh and as there was no obvious finished cake Sunday morning Barbara was panicking she'd have nothing to feed her guests.

(we were at a Wedding the night before in London!)

Barbara's friend Hanna brought a balloon round for Jean which was an instant hit!

And then it was presant time!

The Dutera is a pretty plant but came with a warning that it has poisonous bits so to watch Jean.

It seemed to go very well.