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Sure, it would be nice if Mr Bates didn't turn up to his clinic two hours late and make all his patients wait. But he's just one asshole consultant. Most of us work damn hard, and for relatively small pay (it starts off good but doesn't go up much) to make other people's lives better.
I love my job. I really, really love my job. I love helping people and telling people their kids are fine and not to worry. I love working with patients even when there's nothing I can do for them, even though I have to tell them that, because people still sent them to me to see if we could help them - not cutting them out of the system, not ignoring them because they're 'too disabled'. I work with five-month-olds and five-year-olds and fifty-year-olds and eighty-five-year-olds. I work with glaucoma and squints and amblyopia and cataracts, and idiots and wonderful people and people who don't speak English well enough to tell the difference between 'keep patching' and 'stop patching'.
I get into work first thing in the morning and I don't leave until we've seen everybody and all the paperwork is done and we're ready for everyone else to come in the next morning and start all over again. I work my ass off when we're running late - and it's never our fault, it's always because a patient was late or we've been asked to see an extra person because they really need our help - and I sit around waiting for patients who never bother turning up for their appointments.
And even with all of this - I want always to be doing more for people, to be using best practice, to argue for better facilities and tests and to run more clinics and help people more. And you know what? I can do that, if I work hard enough for it. Because that's what the NHS is. We do it out of love, and anybody who wants to slag us off can go pay for their own healthcare somewhere where the doctors give them extra appointments and extra drugs that they don't need because they get paid more that way, and ask for their insurance details before they'll set a broken leg or take five seconds to check their kid for a squint.
I love my job. I really, really love my job. I love helping people and telling people their kids are fine and not to worry. I love working with patients even when there's nothing I can do for them, even though I have to tell them that, because people still sent them to me to see if we could help them - not cutting them out of the system, not ignoring them because they're 'too disabled'. I work with five-month-olds and five-year-olds and fifty-year-olds and eighty-five-year-olds. I work with glaucoma and squints and amblyopia and cataracts, and idiots and wonderful people and people who don't speak English well enough to tell the difference between 'keep patching' and 'stop patching'.
I get into work first thing in the morning and I don't leave until we've seen everybody and all the paperwork is done and we're ready for everyone else to come in the next morning and start all over again. I work my ass off when we're running late - and it's never our fault, it's always because a patient was late or we've been asked to see an extra person because they really need our help - and I sit around waiting for patients who never bother turning up for their appointments.
And even with all of this - I want always to be doing more for people, to be using best practice, to argue for better facilities and tests and to run more clinics and help people more. And you know what? I can do that, if I work hard enough for it. Because that's what the NHS is. We do it out of love, and anybody who wants to slag us off can go pay for their own healthcare somewhere where the doctors give them extra appointments and extra drugs that they don't need because they get paid more that way, and ask for their insurance details before they'll set a broken leg or take five seconds to check their kid for a squint.
