This seven days a week working is taking its toll. Not on my health, I didn’t have much of that to start with and what’s left is pickled in whisky, salt and curry. Blogging might become sporadic unless we get a replacement for Stimpy soon. Twitter is easier, one-sentence jabberings fit between real life things, so I’ll be around on there most days but here, things might slow down.
Boss has two possibles for interview next week. No dolly birds though. I’m beginning to suspect she’s only accepting male candidates to keep my mind on my work. Dammit. She’s wrong. If she employs an attractive woman my age, I’ll be an hour early for work every day. At this stage though, I don’t care if she employs a chimp called Sebastian as long as it cuts my hours.
It has come to my notice that, in the 28 years between my hospital visits, not much has changed. Not even the sheets. They are still itchy. The food is still bland and awful, but at least it’s edible as long as you choose the bland option. One thing has changed though, and it has changed in a big way.
The visit 28 years ago was filled with people who wanted to fix me. The recent visit was filled with people who wanted to control me.
‘Don’t drink!’ If I didn’t drink I wouldn’t be in here getting broken ribs and a bashed kidney sorted out. So wouldn’t thousands of others and then you’d all be out of a job. ‘I have Life Advice!’ You weren’t even born last time I was in here. If I want life advice I’ll listen to those who have been doing it longer than me, not those who have been at it less than half as long as I have.
One of the doctors was trying to give up smoking. I recommended Electrofag. He looked at me as though I had recommended heroin. It would still be a better bet than his Pharmer-pushed patches and gum. He will fail because he doesn’t really want to stop – and that is the only real way to stop. It’s not an addiction. Everyone I know who ‘successfully’ gave up smoking did it because they didn’t feel like smoking any more. They didn’t ‘give it up’. They stopped a habit that was no longer enjoyable for them.
Just as the time I gave up trainspotting. It stopped being fun so I stopped doing it. No other reason has ever, nor will ever, work. If you get to where it’s not fun any more you will stop just like that. The withdrawal symptoms are only in your head and have been put there by the patch-sellers. They are not real.
Medicine has moved from ‘fix the sick and damaged’ to ‘control the lives of everyone so we don’t need to do any work’. Yet they cannot see that if we all live as directed then there is no further logical need for any of them. Why pay billions into a service nobody needs?
We especially don’t need a ‘service’ that is so bad that people leave the country because of it.
Medics, get your act together or just admit you are quacks and clear off. Your job is to fix us when we are infected or damaged. It is not your job to tell us how to live. Our lives do not belong to you, no matter how Righteous you think you are. You are human and you are going to die too. Live your life while you have it. I’ll live mine. Mine is not yours. Mine is better because I waste none of it on trying to live anyone else’s life for them.
I have been drinking with medical students in the past and I would never trust my health to anyone who can get far drunker than me.
The medics are human.
What they have lost sight of is that… so are we.