AN EMBARRASSING DOSE OF NHS COLONIALISM
By Martina Keens-Betts
For most of my career I’ve worked for international organisations and have made a multitude of friends from across the world that whilst grateful to have had the chance to work in the UK, are unanimous in their disgust of NHS premises. In fact, many even pay for private GPs because they can’t stand walking into any of our state healthcare facilities. No one, however, complains about the actual medical staff – they all pretty much agree they are of an excellent standard.
Having travelled to about 60 odd countries for a mixture of business and pleasure, I agree wholeheartedly that things have gotten atrociously bad in the NHS.
I cannot claim to have
walked inside many foreign medical facilities but in comparison to NHS hospitals, healthcare facilities abroad are often very modern and clean- looking structures, even where you wouldn’t necessarily expect this to be the case. In fact, the only time I can remember registering any real disgust towards hospitals was in the early- 1990s when I was touring remote parts of Russia and there were healthcare structures that had clearly suffered intense neglect due to the communist regime.
I was therefore incredulous when I recently watched an MP excitedly describing the NHS Global scheme on TV.
In my opinion, the reason why the NHS remains in such a state is that we refuse to allow ourselves to acknowledge anything better.
For
And during the entire interview, there was absolutely no mention of any ‘viewing’ being offered to prospective clients and it’s not surprising when our NHS hospitals resemble a chain of Dracula’s holiday homes.
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instance, up until about the 1980s we were all content to tolerate the appalling food which was purveyed by catering institutions across the UK and in some cases was to all intents and purposes pigswill - particularly at Motorway cafes. However, when we all began to travel more, we realised there was more to gastronomic life than chips eaten out of newspapers, cold mash potatoes and spotty waiters who would plonk food in front of you with a grunt and say ‘take it or leave it’,
if you raised a hint of objection. However, during our exotic foreign
travels where warm beer, ‘headaches’ and bank holiday wash-outs
are
replaced by sun, ‘evening abs’ and ouzo, our bunions, varicose veins and knee replacements are firmly pushed to the back of the mind. Therefore, the sight of the beautiful, bright, sanitary conditions of many hospitals abroad inhabit a blind-spot within our optical configurations – the thought of blood, drips, tapas and Ambre Solaire simply don’t mix. And this is all rather convenient for our procession of seemingly aesthetically compromised and skinflint Health Ministers – ‘getting away from it all’ really is all pervasive throughout the British holiday maker’s psyche. And what is even more fortuitous for the Department of Health
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