You'll never walk alone.

I'm not sure why I like to quote lines from films on this blog. I mean, I really haven't seen enough of them to make myself out to be some sort of hotshot film geek. I'm hoping this is the last (probably inappropriate) quote I use for a while, so here goes... 'Give me a word, any word, and I show you that the root of that word is Greek.' Courtesy of Gus Portokalos, the funniest character in the My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Sometimes I feel like medics tend to do that, we have a habit of making absolutely any conversation about Medicine.  It seems to give us a bit of a bad rep, but surely it's understandable? I mean, it's what we do. It's what we've 'always wanted to do' i.e.  since leaving the womb*. It's what we're always going to do. Right? 

Even so, it's surely human nature to relate everyday conversation to something you think that you know a lot about. Let's take a look at real-life example, cue the Blue Peter  quip 'here's one I made earlier':

I know nothing about football. Well, I know a bit more than some and a lot less than your average football fan so I guess I know VERY little about football. I do, however, know a thing or two about Hillsborough Stadium in Sheffield. Why, you ask? Well, the Hillsborough Disaster in 1985 saw the deaths of 96 Liverpool fans during an FA cup semi-final. A pivotal case emerged from this disaster which affected medical decision-making at the end of life, that of Anthony Bland. Bland was left brain damaged and in a 'persistent vegetative state' (a disorder of consciousness) after the disaster. In 1993, he finally won his battle to have the treatment that was keeping him alive withdrawn. This was a landmark case in both medical ethics and law. Don't say you heard it hear first, look it up: it's relevant.

It would be dishonest to say, 'Give me a word, any word, and I'll show you that it's somehow linked to Medicine. But just ask me what I know about football, just once and I might just surprise you. 

*After writing this entry, I realised that it might be unfair to presume that there isn't at least one person who knew that they wanted to be a doctor just seconds after taking their first gasp of air and crying their eyes out in the midwife's arms. My sincere apologies if this applies to you. 

Raison d'être

If there's one thing that I've learned whilst studying Bioethics, it's that there are some people who really do spend the majority of their time answering abstract questions that I've never really bothered to give the time of day before. In a seminar today, a tutor briefly mentioned that there is an ongoing debate on what it means 'to be' and I started to ponder on that myself. Now, I don't know whether I'm spending too much time in the Ethics department at the moment or if I'm taking the twisted genius of Charlie Brooker's 'The Black Mirror' series on Channel 4 a bit too seriously but I'm feeling inquisitive. (If you haven't watched The Black Mirror yet, please do - mind-boggling stuff and it makes for fabulous dinner party discussion.)

(Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdxucpPq6Lc)

The video above is sure to get you thinking in more ways than any of the words in this blog entry will. It's about ontology (meaning the nature of existence or being), a philosophical concept that I can't say I come across everyday but I'm partial to a good cartoon if it distracts me from what I'm really supposed to be doing. I saw it for the first time about a year ago and, although it's a bit dated, it does the trick. Philosophy, it seems, is often too abstract for the 'average Joe' to make sense of (I'm speaking from experience, trust me) but making it this accessible opens up a Pandora's Box of questions that I didn't know that I had bubbling up inside me. See where the video takes you, anyone fancy hedging bets on how soon it becomes a reality? 

I'm not a risk-taker myself, so I'm going to err on the side of caution by sitting on the fence with a cup of tea in hand as I'm not sure we're going to agree on definitions of the reason for existence anytime soon. 

Contemplation or confession?

There you go, I'm sharing my mantra for the week. I like to think that, on occasion, we all face obstacles (nothing too awful, just a minor glitch). I see it as the equivalent to Shakespeare getting writer's block or Michael Jackson forgetting how to moonwalk. Yes, the last analogy was a tad far-fetched but you understand the point I'm trying to make. 

It tends to make me feel better that even the great Professor Brian Cox got a 'D' in A-level Maths and Winston Churchill was expelled from school. I'd like to point out that I can't say that I've experienced either of the above but what I'm trying to get at is the reassurance I feel when I learn that other people - actually not just 'people' but well-respected folk - find things difficult too.

It's easy to be too embarrassed, too proud or just too uptight to admit that sometimes you're just having a bad day or finding something difficult.  I'm writing this in the hope that you can relate to times like that. My reason for doing so isn't so that you start viewing the glass as half-empty, I'm just saying that every so often my glass isn't half-full. When I put everything into perspective the one thing that feels like a massive hurdle to overcome really isn't as bad as I thought and then, on days like today, I forget what it was that bothered me in the first place. 

Onwards and upwards.

I suppose that it's ironic that I should find myself on a bed in Accident and Emergency on a day that has, in the minds of most, proved devastating for the NHS. Insight is a powerful thing, and so watching countless doctors and nurses whizz past my cubicle triggered a few thoughts. 

We all knew that the report regarding the failings of the Mid Staffordshire NHS Foundation Trust was coming and it did so with gusto. So as to avoid boring you with a relentless diatribe I'll let you do the research yourself and attempt to sum up Francis QC's near 4000 page strong report up in one sentence -  the current system failed its patients. (To listen to the man himself watch the video at the bottom of the page.) Before you think/say it, I agree, it's not as simple as that. But it would be foolish of me to provide you with a fair in-depth analysis of the workings of a system that I have yet to work in.  

A lack of accountability seems to be the main criticism of the inquiry but I am going to choose to leave this to one side. Call me a coward but given that today's inquiry formed the fifth attempt at identifying the problem I want to focus on how our healthcare system can move on from such revelations instead. My reason for this? Well I have two actually:

1. I plan to work in the NHS myself - August 2016 - ? 
2. With our ageing population, I'm probably going to require the services of an NHS professional (or two) at some point.

My focus - encouraging and protecting 'whistleblowing'. By this I mean trying to find a way to foster a culture in which individuals in the profession feel like they can speak out if they have a concern about patient care or safety. How? Funny you should ask, that's going to form the basis for my dissertation. I'll let you know how it goes (15,000 words and 1500 cups of tea later).

(Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4lySJlm1EnM)

The Impatient Optimist

Imagine that you are 18 years old and you've secured a place at Harvard. At 20 years old,  you quit Harvard. With the support of your parents, you decide to start up what will become the world's largest and most successful PC software company with an old school friend. You are a billionaire by the age of 31. To date you remain one of the wealthiest men on the planet and your children will only inherit 'a miniscule portion' of your wealth (Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/pda/2011/jun/13/bill-gates-charity-microsoft).  I should probably add that 'miniscule' is said to equate to about 10 million dollars. Anyway, each to their own. You are also a philanthropist. If you don't know who you're supposed to be yet, you're Bill Gates. 

(Source: www.microsoft.com)

I must admit that I knew very little about Bill Gates until I watched him give his speech at The Richard Dimbleby Lecture last week. I did have my preconceptions, as I'm sure we all do occasionally, but leaving those to one side he made a lot of thought-provoking points. The 'internal optimists' - that's how Mr and Mrs Gates describe themselves* - and their current plan: to eradicate polio. Polio, or poliomyelitis, is an infectious disease which enters the body through the mouth and nose and then goes on to develop in the throat and gut. If it goes on to invade the central nervous system then it can cause damage to the nerve cells which control our muscles (motor neurons). Here's a fun fact that might come in handy during a pub quiz one day  -  Mary Berry (the nation's favourite baking granny) had polio as a child, back when they called it 'Infantile Paralysis'. We're lucky in the UK, times have changed and now every baby is automatically offered the polio vaccination - so the risk of acquiring it here is virtually nil, but this is not the case elsewhere in the world. 

Since the universal eradication of smallpox in 2011, individuals all over the world have carried a glimmer of hope that we will go on to eradicate even more diseases. Polio is the next on that list, and I'm not shy about saying that there are many, many more that we need  to spread the word about. Bill Gates is one man (granted, with a lot of money) but he also has a voice. Here's to taking a leaf out of his book and shouting even louder. In a society where it's easy to take a National Health Service with the availability of free vaccinations for granted it doesn't hurt to remind each other that 'All Lives Have Equal Value'.

*For more about the incredible work that Bill Gates and his wife are involved in see http://www.impatientoptimists.org/