Yes, I'm well aware "Lisybabe" makes me sound like a teenage girl. But I was when I chose the handle and it kinda stuck.
29 October 2013
Medical Complaints
I've never written online before about what actually happened to my mum. I've mentioned that she had died without going into the details of what happened. I've told friends off-the-record in real life, but I've never published it on the internet before because that publication could have affected any legal proceedings. But now justice is well and truly off the table, it's something I can write about.
How she died
The story of how my mum died actually begins 10 years and one month before her death. My mum's youngest sister was married to a bloke from mainland Europe and in November 1998 my aunt and her husband flew home from visiting his family. As soon as they landed in this country my aunt started complaining of chest pain. My aunt was overweight, a lifelong smoker and had just flown. Despite these risk factors, when she saw her GP the next day; he diagnosed her with indigestion and gave her Gaviscon.
Five days later she was feeling really ill so went to get an early night. Her husband made her a cup of cocoa and took it up to her. By the time the cocoa was made and he'd carried it up the stairs; she was dead. My 85-year-old nan (who my aunt and uncle lived with) ran barefoot across the street to fetch a neighbour nurse. Said neighbour performed CPR on my aunt until the emergency services showed up, but she was gone. Unsurprisingly she'd had a massive, and instantly fatal, heart attack.
If my aunt's GP had sent her straight to A&E when she presented with chest pains 5 days earlier, it's possible she'd still be alive 15 years later. Of course she just as easily might not be; but it's possible that she would.
The reason the story of my mum's sister's death is relevant is because 10 years later, my mum died the same way thanks to the same response from a GP. Not the same GP, it's important to note: It seems the response is a standard one wherever you see a doctor.
My mum died in December 2008. Her chest pains began around two years earlier, so that would've been 2006. Just as her sister did 8 years before, my mum went to see her GP about her chest pain and was diagnosed with indigestion. Unlike her sister, my mum was prescribed omeprazole - rather than Gaviscon - for the indigestion.
My aunt died within 5 days of the indigestion diagnosis. My mum lasted for 2 years and repeatedly visited her GP during that time. She struggled to push her wheelchair, became unable to lay down flat, and clutched her chest at the slightest movement. You have to remember that this was a woman with osteogenesis imperfecta; she had a fucking high pain tolerance. When she was in hospital as a child with broken limbs, she would still be changing nappies of babies on the children's ward and showing some love that cold-hearted nurses wouldn't. (Parents weren't allowed to visit: Hospital rules.) My mum was not someone who was easily stopped by pain, so for her to stop and clutch her chest while transferring from wheelchair to armchair; she must have been in agony.
For two years she kept going back to her GP, and her GP did nothing. No referral to a cardiologist, no cardiac tests, nothing.
On the 4th of December 2008, she went to go to bed; but couldn't get out of her armchair and into her wheelchair. She couldn't breathe. She admitted defeat and called 999. Once in hospital she was assigned a consultant cardiologist who told her, in no uncertain terms, that "you should have been referred to me two years ago."
Apparently, according to her test results, her heart attack had been massive and she was lucky to be alive. It didn't last. On December 13th at around 10pm her heart gave up and stopped completely.
A few months after mum died, the British Heart Foundation ran an ad campaign on buses with wording to the effect of "chest pain is your body's way of telling you to call 999." Such a shame they don't teach that in medical school. My mum and her sister might still be around if GPs were smart enough to know that chest pains indicate a need to rule out heart problems. Yes, you can say that my mum and her sister should've skipped the GP middle-man and gone straight to A&E themselves. But these were women with no academic qualifications who placed their faith in their GPs, expecting them to be educated enough to treat them.
The legal snag
While mum was in hospital we had a conversation about the need for mum to sue her GP to make sure he didn't treat anyone else so badly. I remember pointing out that she was lucky to be alive and that he could have killed her. Turns out he did kill her: By the time she was hospitalised, she was beyond saving.
Shortly after her death I contacted a lawyer. Obviously I wanted justice for my mum; but what I wanted most was to protect her GP's other patients; to make sure he couldn't kill anyone else with his indifference.
I was told that I couldn't sue because I'm not legally considered my mother's closest living relative: My father is. I once lived inside my mum for 9 months. That's really fucking close. But no; the only person who could sue my mum's GP was my dad.
My dad will not do anything that involves moving from in front of the TV. Anything. For three years I kept begging him to be reasonable, to think about protecting other patients. To try to make him see that if that GP kills anyone else; their blood is on his hands because he could have stopped it.
He wouldn't. He cares more about the patients on Doctors than the patients registered at my mother's doctor's surgery.
You can only instigate a case within 3 years, less one day, of realising the doctor was wrong. So the deadline for initiating legal action was Dec 3rd 2011. That's long gone, so like I said at the start: Any potential justice for my mum is long off the table.
How fucked up does a legal system have to be when a dead woman's daughter is considered too distant a relative to be able to sue the doctor whose negligence resulted in the woman's death? Yes, the NHS complaints procedure needs work and the news yesterday was full of examples as to why. It can be scary complaining, especially if you're complaining about doctors whom your life depends on. But beneath the NHS complaints framework we need a legal system that protects NHS and private patients alike. Sometimes issues are so severe (like fatal negligence) that a surgery complaint form isn't enough and you need to take legal action. We need to fix NHS complaint systems, but we need to fix our ludicrous legal system too.
30 July 2012
♫...What's in your head, in your head?...♫
Getting told that your physical condition is psychosomatic is disturbingly common. In the past it's happened to me but only over a period of a couple of months, and it wasn't a serious condition anyway.
In 2003 or 04 (I remember it was when I lived in Golders Green, which was from June '03 to June '04) I finally told my GP that I had trouble making out what people were saying, especially if there was any background noise. It had been a problem for about a decade but I'd not bothered to see anyone about it. As hearing loss caused by a fractured stapes is common in osteogenesis imperfecta my GP sent me to the Royal National Throat, Nose and Ear Hospital to get my hearing looked out.
When my hearing test came back fine, the registrar told me that I was mad and purely imagining that I couldn't hear. He referred me to hearing therapy to "teach [me] how to hear". The hearing therapist was horrified at how I'd been spoken to. She also gave me an actual diagnosis which explained all my hearing issues: Auditory Processing Disorder. Yes, it's a brain condition rather than an ear condition; but there's nothing imagined or "mad" about it. It's essentially 'sound dyslexia'.
I've had another case where I was told that I didn't have the medical condition I do actually have, but instead of being told I was imagining it; I was told I had a different medical condition. For years I was told that I had nothing wrong with my sinuses, that I was having migraines instead. After a couple of years of Idiot Registrar not being able to spot inflamed sinuses when they literally sneezed on him; he finally deigned to look at a CT scan of them. "Oh, there is something wrong with your sinuses after all" was his comment upon re-entering the room.
Rather ironically I now do have migraines caused by my sinus problems going untreated for so long. The lack of treatment damaged the nerves in my sinuses and you have nerves that run through your nose and into your brain. The damage to these nerves triggers migraines in me. So thanks for that little gift, Idiot Registrar.
My jaw became an issue about 3 years ago. The muscles started spasming and it subluxed pretty regularly. I would often wish someone would stand on the right hand side of my face to keep my jaw where it was supposed to be. One day I remember @BendyGirl tweeting that she'd just stood on a friend's pelvis to reduce it; so I responded along the lines of "great! Now get down to London and stand on my face to keep my jaw in its socket."
Over the years my jaw problems have progressed. I reached a crunch point in the first week of February this year: My jaw hurt so much that I spent the whole week so bombed on morphine that I didn't even notice when I re-fractured the metatarsal I'd originally fractured 6 weeks earlier. And my jaw was still more painful than I could bear.
So I went to see my GP and he referred me to maxillofacial. The referral was rejected and my GP was told to send me to the Facial Pain Clinic at the Eastman. He did.
So I went to the Eastman on Wednesday expecting an examination of my jaw, some x-rays and general usual hospital appointmentness.
My appointment was at 9:30, which was about when I arrived at the building. The clinic I was going to was in an area marked "2" so logically I went to the second floor. Area 2 isn't on the second floor. Then there was the orderly jamming the lift door open with a laundry cart with me inside. I mean I was inside the lift, not the laundry cart. By the time I reached clinic reception I was 18 minutes late. They refused to see me for "being half an hour late". Which is odd because I hadn't realised that we now had 40 hour days.1
I go to a lot of hospital appointments. Wednesday was my second appt in the space of 6 days. I think this is my first appointment ever that was running less than half an hour behind schedule which was why I was quite laid back about not arriving at the hospital bang on the appointment time. Smegging typical that the first time I encounter a hospital running on time reception is staffed by punctuality obsessives. But then I guess they would be the people who'd get a clinic on schedule.
They wanted me to go home and come back in September. Of course, I now know that it wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference, but at the time I was reduced to begging.
The doctor agreed to see me but I was then subjected to more tutting and eye-rolling from reception because I hadn't filled in my pre-appointment questionnaire, having banked on doing that in the waiting room.
I will say one thing for the clinic reception/waiting area: It's got aircon. Presumably because they also handle a lot of private patients. I guess if there's going to be a silver lining to the recent NHS Act it might be that with 49% of beds going to private patients we start to see hospitals that aren't all ovens.
The appointment itself lasted an hour which is unusual. You'd think that would be an example of excellent medical care, wouldn't you? Except it was 58 minutes of asking me about depression and 2 minutes of examining my face. Which really tells you what the clinic is all about.
Some gems from the consultation included his incredulity that the pain clinic have never sent me for counselling. Like talking about my feelings is going to stop my sinuses from hurting or cure my osteogenesis. I consider myself genuinely blessed to go to one of the few pain clinics where they don't go in for the bullcrap touchy feely stuff and just prescribe painkillers.
When talking about my sinuses he asked the question "and did they actually find anything wrong with them?" He was obviously working on the assumption that I don't have any real physical conditions and I just have conversion disorder. I'm surprised he didn't question my OI and claim I'm making my scleras blue by being miserable.
I should've foreseen what my diagnosis was going to be when I explained that because of my hypermobile hands I do things like unscrew bottle lids with my teeth and he was totally unperturbed. People who care about my oral bone health usually go batcrap over that; even though my lack of useful hands make it non-optional.
He clearly didn't believe me when I explained about the subluxing jaw. He kept saying "but you've never had your mouth get stuck open and been unable to close it..." He seemed incapable of understanding that hypermobile joints dislocate easily, but they go back in pretty easily too. During the incredibly brief physical examination he exclaimed that the distance I can open my mouth is "very good." I'd bet my cat's whiskers that before my jaw became problematic I could open it even further. Despite his acknowledgement of the existence of hypermobility, he wouldn't accept that I had it in my jaw and clearly didn't believe my jaw had ever come out of its socket.
Notably he didn't ask me if I'm on bisphosphonates; a common treatment for osteogenesis. An important question given that it could cause osteonecrosis of the jaw. (I'm not, so that's not my problem.)
Unsurprisingly my diagnosis is that my jaw pain is psychosomatic. The cure? Group therapy. Really. They don't just have psychologists on hand at the facial pain clinic though; they even have shrinks ready to dole out psychiatric meds rather than accepting that sometimes people have something wrong with their jaw.
Without any medical training myself I presume my knackered joint is causing my muscles to spasm in the same way that my weak hand joints cause muscle spasms when using a pen. Yes there is a stress element to it: Tense muscles get worse when you're more tightly wound generally; just ask anyone with cerebral palsy. But does that mean CP is psychosomatic? Of course not.
But what I am sure isn't psychosomatic is the crunching noise my jaw makes when I yawn or chew. It sounds and feels just like the crunching noise my right ankle often makes: A joint that's had its worn-outness confirmed by MRI.
So now I know why maxillofacial rejected the referral: They obviously saw citalopram and amytriptiline on my drugs list and assumed there's nothing physically wrong with me; I'm just nuts. Despite the bone disease...
What can I do now? Well there's not much really I can do except go along to therapy and talk about my fucking feelings even though the flapping up and down will make my jaw worse, if anything.
Other suggestions for treatment include "a relaxing activity with a physical element like yoga or gardening." Logic fell over and died at this point: I already garden and my jaw fucking hurts.
I'm also supposed to get some exercise. You know; like the miles I push and the swimming I do. I may have been priced out of going to the gym but I don't spend every moment of the day gawping open-mouthed at the telly. That noise you can hear? It's logic turning in its grave.
I love the NHS. As I've explained before a really important thing is giving feedback because that's how you help something you love function better. So hear this NHS:
You could save a fuckton of money if you stopped denying people medical help for years while they get worse claiming that the patient is "just depressed". It's the worsening which is where you lose the money. An assumption of conversion disorder should only be reached once you've ruled out all logical physical possibilities. It should never be a first stop before you've even carried out an examination. I know at least 10 people, probably more if I asked around a bit, who've at some point been diagnosed with conversion. One does actually have CD that fits, the rest were eventually given a physical diagnosis.
When I got home I was emotionally shattered from a shit appointment and physically shattered from driving back from visiting my dad in Colchester hospital the night before. I immediately crawled into bed. Thank goodness for cats: Betty decided to take my mind off things by lifting her tail up, reversing in and then sitting down on the pillow with her anus about 3cms from my nose. Finally something to laugh at on a miserable morning.
_______________________________________________________
1 Thanks to Robin for the maths help with that one. @Uppo1963, @latentexistence, @PatParslow, and @indigojo_uk all answered my question also; but Robin got there first.
17 April 2012
In tweets because I'm in a hurry
Choose and book can go fuck themselves. Seriously. That's now 2 hospital referrals they've rejected for me. Budget hoarding bastards.
— Lisa Egan (@lisybabe) April 17, 2012
Last time I had to write a fucking essay to get them to accept a gastro referral. If a GP says a patient needs to see a specialist: They do!
— Lisa Egan (@lisybabe) April 17, 2012
Choose and book's job is to allow patients to choose the hospital they want to go to and book an appt. Not reject referrals.
— Lisa Egan (@lisybabe) April 17, 2012
I read an article about the NHS doing this to save money, and now I can't find it. My Google fu is getting worse.
— Lisa Egan (@lisybabe) April 17, 2012
And you know what else is getting worse? My fucking jaw! Which is precisely why my GP referred me to a specialist.
— Lisa Egan (@lisybabe) April 17, 2012
29 March 2012
Priorities
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't disabled.
Then they came for the NHS,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't sick.
Then they came for the grannies,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't old.
Then they came for my pasties,
and suddenly I gave a crap.
18 March 2012
♫...Health minister, I mean sinister...♫ #SaveOurNHS
On Wednesday I had a an appointment at a specialist hospital. The clinic in question I was attending that morning is totally unique, there is only that one in the whole country.
I got all this care on the NHS. Without question I wouldn't still be kicking around were it not for the care our health service provides.
Because I depend on the NHS so much, last week I also felt the need to go to a couple of "save our NHS" thingies. Unfortunately with so many of the services I depend on being under threat, going protesting is part of a fairly normal week now too. Rather ironically I couldn't go to the "hands around St Thomas'" vigil because I was sitting in a different hospital having medical implements shoved up my nose.
I've been one of the NHS's most loyal customers most of my life. Growing up with brittle bones I spent so much of my childhood waiting for x-rays that I could spell "danger" and "radiation" from reading the signs on the door at about the same age that most of my peers were getting to grips with "cat" and "dog". During my teens and early 20s I used the NHS much less, though still a bit more than Joe Average. From my mid-twenties onwards my life has been this thrill-o-rama of hospital appointments and increasingly long prescriptions: Some of my current health problems are related to my osteogenesis and some are not. Then there's those that are not really osteogenesis-related, but OI exacerbates them. I'm basically falling apart.
I know of people who are in favour of these reforms who've been mystified by the fact that I'm opposed to the bill but acknowledge stuff like this. It's quite simple really: I think that when you care passionately for something it's important to critically assess its failings as well as its achievements. Acknowledging that something could be better doesn't mean you want to see it dismantled.
I care passionately about my car. Because of my impaired mobility I need it for most excursions out of my flat. Acknowledging that the heating doesn't work properly and that I wish the heating worked better doesn't mean I want my car to be shoved in a crusher.
I care passionately about the NHS too. I need it to stay alive. Acknowledging that it often fails groups of people doesn't mean I want the NHS dismantled. I want to see the problems fixed, just like I wish Peugeot would fix my car's heating so it doesn't get progressively cooler the faster my car is going.
The thing is: The NHS can't fix their problems until they know that they exist, and where they exist. Just like Peugeot can't fix my car until they find where the fault actually is. Not being a petrol head I can't run diagnostics on my car to find the cause of the problem, but I can help the NHS find problems by writing a complaint when I encounter a useless doctor. Evidence like the aforementioned stuff on elderly care, or Mencap's work on people with learning difficulties getting failed by the NHS all help the NHS to identify faults so they can be fixed. Suing over clinical errors was a way of not only getting compensation for injuries incurred, but it was yet another way of providing feedback over where faults lie. The Legal Aid Bill puts that in jeopardy.
And quite simply there's the fact that the Health and Social Care Bill does nothing to improve the care received by the demographics currently failed by the NHS. If anything you can bet that such patients will receive even worse care under a more competitive system.
Another one of the NHS's big issues is waiting lists. Last week my GP referred me to maxillofacial because I need to see someone about my right temporomandibular joint. I need to see someone about it now, not in four months time. At this precise moment my jaw is hurting so much that the pain travels right the way around to the base of my skull. Not only do these reforms fail to address the issue of waiting lists, if anything they'll make matters worse.
When Lansley and co get on the defensive about the reforms they point out that Labour started the process of outsourcing to private providers. (Which is true, but it doesn't mean they have to keep up the practice.) Because it's been happening for a few years I've had a couple of experiences and know first-hand that it increases, rather than decreases, wait times.
Three years ago an orthopaedic surgeon sent me to have my knackered ankle MRIed. I was given an appointment to have it done six weeks later. Two weeks before the appointment I got a letter telling me that my appointment had been cancelled and instead I was going to be having my MRI at a private hospital because they were using private providers to cut down their waiting lists. So did this mean that I had my MRI sooner than the two further weeks I had left to wait? Of course not. Want to know how long I did wait? 10 months. By the time my ankle was finally MRIed it was a year since the consultant ordered it.
Once upon a time orthotists actually made orthotics. As a child I had countless splints made while I waited. Now all orthotists do is take a mould of the body part to be supported and send the mould to a private provider to make the product. The same orthopod that ordered the MRI also ordered orthoses to be made for my shoes. The ones I'm waiting for now have been sent back to the factory three times since they were first made, because the private company can't follow simple instructions. It's been about two years since I went back to the orthotist because the first pair had worn out, so can someone please explain to me how a two-year wait can possibly be justified when they could actually be made on the spot?
I'm really not sure I can face the prospect of waiting a year or two to get my jaw seen to.
Outsourcing to private providers doesn't just result in excessive delays and headaches from where you kept head-butting the wall in frustration; the consequences can be far graver.
The government want GPs to handle budgets taking that responsibility out of the hands of the PCT's. When my GP makes judgements about whether or not I need to see a maxillofacial consultant I want him to make that decision based on clinical need, not budgetary concerns. (Additionally there's the fact that GPs are so untrustworthy according to the government that they can't be allowed to make judgements on someone's fitness for work: That's the government's defence for why they "need" to use Atos). I'd rather my doctor spend his time doctoring, leaving the accountants at the PCT's to do the accounting. If GPs don't want to spend their time dealing with budgets they're going to need to employ the bureaucrats who've just had a severance package from their PCT which is a waste of taxpayers money. And if there's one thing this government like to bang on about: It's taxpayers getting value for their money.
But the big, big, BIG problem with these reforms is around the role of the Secretary of State. Initially the bill removed the obligation on the Secretary of State to provide a National Health Service. This would have been the end of the National Health Service that is accessible to all regardless of ability to pay. Thousands of amendments later the bill now only greatly reduces that obligation, rather than removing it entirely. But it's still likely to see people like me with many health problems, and no money, getting absolutely shafted once the obligation to provide an NHS has been cut back.
The government keep insisting that the reforms aren't about "privatising" the NHS. Yet we keep hearing about more and more services getting outsourced: And the bill hasn't even passed yet! Though ever increasing outsourcing isn't really surprising when you look at the list of politicians with ties to private healthcare companies. This is all despite the fact that patient care is worse under private providers (I refer you back to my own 2 experiences of outsourced "care") and our current system is more cost-effective. It's worth noting that that last linked article is not only from The Torygraph, but the writer freely admits that he has no ideological opposition to breaking up the NHS if a cheaper way of providing care could be found.
Nye Bevan famously said "the NHS will last as long as there are folks left with the faith the fight for it." I'm deeply worried that most people in Britain have become so apathetic and/or cruel (they let the horrific Welfare Reform Bill pass…) that there are no longer enough people with enough faith to keep this world leading, value-for-money, health service alive.
What can you do? There are 2 petitions to get the bill delayed until the government have published the risk register. One is from Avaaz, the other from 38 Degrees. You could also come to Parliament Square this afternoon, but you might want to be aware that yesterday's demo was just a tad over-policed.
♫ = Andrew Lansley Rap
08 November 2011
♫...Take the National Express when your life’s in a mess, it’ll make you smile...♫
Just like the last UK Uncut thingum I went to; I did a few funnies. Only this time the fab @miggiuk filmed it:
I apologise for saying "erm" and "you know" quite so much. You have to remember it's more than 4 years since I was forced to give up comedy due to illness so I'm rather unrehearsed these days. Miggiuk filmed all the comedy and put it on YouTube so after my ums and ahs go watch some other people who are properly funny as a palate cleanser for the soul.
There's a transcript below the jump. I'm afraid I don't have the techno know-how to turn that into synchronised subtitles on the video itself so if anyone does then please let me know.
♫ = National Express by The Divine Comedy
09 February 2010
Hear me roar!
I am angry with NHS wastefulness. Perhaps I should go join the Taxpayer's Alliance? Eh, nice idea, but I don't want to stop all benefits ever and force disabled people into workhouses.
My anger started about a week ago. In 2004 I was referred to the surgical appliances dept at the Royal Free for a splint for my wrist. There was a smattering of wastefulness about my referral: GPs are not considered intelligent enough to refer patients directly to SA, my GP had to refer me to orthopaedics for them to refer me to get a splint. Which seems like a waste of my time and NHS money for me to have to see an orthopod I didn't need to see. But it was a one-off ortho appt, they referred me downstairs to surgical appliances and discharged me from ortho.
Last year I saw an orthopod at UCH about my broken foot. As The Boss promised during the appointment from hell two months later I was indeed referred to orthotics for inserts into my shoes.
"Surgical appliances" and "orthotics" are two different names for exactly the same department. One hospital uses one name, the other uses the other. So, yep, I'm a patient at exactly the same department at two different hospitals. Common sense would indicate that I should perhaps get my details sent from one hospital to the other so I can have all my supporting needs met in one place: Saving my time, and most crucially, taking up only 50% of the orthotics appointment slots therefore costing the NHS only 50% of the current cost. So last week I tried to arrange for that to happen.
Of course that would be far too sensible. I enquired about the possibility and was told that both hospitals have a policy of not issuing orthotics unless they've been prescribed by an orthopod from that hospital. So thanks to stupid policies I need to have twice as many appointments as I would need if the stupid policies didn't exist, costing the NHS twice as much.
The word is "fail".
Then I started reading about the ten23 campaign. A sort of great idea. I say "sort of" because I can't help but feel that the campaign is somewhat misguided. They are aiming their "stop being so stupid" at Boots when elsewhere on the site they have this fact:
In the UK, the NHS spends around £4million every year on homeopathy and the British government supports four NHS Homeopathic Hospitals - Bristol, Glasgow, Liverpool and London. What's more over 400 GPs in the UK regularly refer patients to homeopathic clinics. With homeopathy having been conclusively proven to work no better than placebo, there is no place for it in the National Health System, and no reason to support it with money that would otherwise be used to support real, proven treatments with genuine efficacy.
From http://www.1023.org.uk/why-you-cant-trust-homeopathy.php
So, yeah, can't help but feeling that the campaign would be more worthwhile if it was aimed at stopping the NHS wasting money on homoeopathy rather than stopping Boots from selling homoeopathic "remedies". Because I care how the NHS spend their money, how A. N. Other spends his or her money down the chemists really doesn't bother me.
And then today I read this article from The Independent: The ex-gay files: The bizarre world of gay-to-straight conversion (yeah I know it was published eight days ago, I'm a bit slow).
It transpires during the sessions that she gets most of her clients through an NHS GPs' surgery near her home. She says they refer people to her for treatment for their homosexuality.
Yep, NHS money is being wasted on "treating" homosexuality, even though -- as the article recognizes -- homosexuality was removed from the DSM 36 years ago.
The NHS will happily spend twice as much money on orthotics appointments than is needed, they will happily spend millions on treatments proven to not work, they will pay for "treatments" proven to cause more harm than good, but what they won't pay for is a kidney cancer drug proven to extend life.
The NHS is a hot political topic at the moment, so why aren't the political parties all promising to stop pissing NHS money down the drain?
So I'm busy being angry. And having to go to more orthotics appointments than I need to. Grr.
Edit 21/02/10: The end to NHS homeopathy may be in sight!