Due Care and Attention

Due Care and Attention

I lead an active life

But I’m very clumsy

And I bruise easily,

like when I give blood,

or bump into furniture,

or trip over uneven paths.

He always comes with me

And waits while I’m treated,

like when I fell off my bike

and smashed my front teeth,

or skied into a tree

and fractured my arm,

or tipped over the roast pan

and burned the skin off my hand.

Today I played netball,

collided with a player,

and broke my nose.

The nurse looks at me

and at him, waiting,

and she asks, quietly,

“Is that netball?”

I say yes. Out loud.

For the first time ever.

What happens

Now?

Health Care

I'm too sexy for my socks

Yesterday I had minor surgery to remove uterine fibroids (one the size of a golf ball), hopefully saving much future menstrual agony, and leading to this oh-so-sexy surgical-socks-and-painted-toenails combo. Him Indoors was unintentionally hilarious when he said, "You look like you've been in a period drama." My, how I laughed. But I sincerely hope my period drama is over.

It has taken me 35 years of nausea, cramps, excessive bleeding, low iron counts and a general lack of energy to have this taken seriously. I'm so glad it finally has been, and I hope that by talking more to our young women we can prevent them suffering the pain that we have tolerated because we've been told things like, 'that's just the price you pay for being a woman'. Let's not even start getting into the issue that medical practitioners might be less inclined to be so dismissive if it effected men. I'll get to that elsewhere. 

What I would like to acknowledge is how well the process was handled. From the admission staff to the nurses, doctors, wards-people, surgeons, and anaesthetists, everybody was efficient, understanding and compassionate. I am impressed and awed by the service and care I received. Of course, I have some pain now (as is only to be expected after things have been scraped away from my insides), but I have been given drugs to manage it with clear instructions, a follow-up call this morning, and a routine check-up in a few weeks' time. 

Scooter

While I was in the hospital, being hooked up to machines and having all my vital signs monitored, I was of course transported back to eight years ago today, when I lost my best friend to cancer. I still miss him every day, but, although my heart aches, I am able to think of him and smile rather than cry these days. I have so many memories of happy times, and also, obviously, sad ones as we saw him lose his sparkle. But even as his physical form was shrinking before our eyes, the palliative care he received was incredible. The kindness of the medical staff who managed his pain and saw him to the end of his life was humbling. They were wonderful to him, and to his family and friends, who visited him in hospital and stayed with him when there was nothing further that could be done, except let him leave with dignity. I thank them all.

In the UK, some people want to sell off the NHS. It is baffling beyond belief that anyone would actually choose a system like the one that exists in the U.S.A. A recent video released on the Common Dreams website shows the shock with which British people heard the costs of basic healthcare (childbirth; ambulance ride; asthma inhalers) across the Atlantic. I don't want to get political here, but, seriously, how could anyone with a conscience vote for a party that would allow this to happen? Healthcare should be not be optional; it should be available to all; and it should not be monetised. 

I know the NHS is a creaking organisation and one which desperately needs funding and a massive overhaul. I'm not ignorant - I realise that people are ageing and that medical procedures are becoming more expensive and more in demand. I understand that we can't continue the way we're going as the population continues to both age and increase. What we need is measured and considered discussion and respect. What we do not need is privatisation. 

And the people who care for us; the people who listen to our complaints and assuage our pain should be respected and rewarded - not penalised, underpaid or stressed beyond breaking point. They are literally (and I don't use that word lightly) our saviours. In fact, I'll finish with a quote from the late, great Jeremy Hardy, who also passed away this year, who had an enviably incisive way with words, and is also sorely missed.

What's the point of prison?

A couple of weeks ago, when down in Christchurch, I was given a tour of the women's prison. It's clean and, although not exactly comfortable, every necessity of food and shelter and many of well-being are provided for.

Facilities include a library, a mini gym and a games room. Some prisoners share villas with a couple of other inmates. Mothers and babies have special areas for family development. Legislation states that a baby born in prison stays with the mother for the first 6 months, although this may be extended with approval.

With a heavy dose of understatement, the corrections officer explained, "It's not the baby's fault - it's quite strange. The legislation currently is looking at extending that to the age of two which in itself is going to create a lot more issues. Currently our self care unit is the area where we keep mums and babies because you can’t be locked in the cell with a baby from 5-8; it doesn’t work. But toddlers in prison; where are we going to keep them?"

Prison nurse, Anne Hofmeester, tells me that some people don't feel prisoners are entitled to health-care or indeed any benefits at all. "They are quite shocked that we provide prisoners with any help. They think they should get absolutely nothing. People in the community get cross that they have to go to their doctor and pay – it’s $70 to go to after-hours – but prisoners get it for free."

When the prisoners have demonstrated that they are ready to be rehabilitated and they are no longer a threat to others, they are relocated to 'villas' within the prison, where they share with three others in a flatting type situation, learning to budget for their food and toiletries and getting a small allowance for these necessities once a month. According to the Department of Corrections, the average cost of keeping an offender in prison is $90,747 a year.

They work in various 'industries' which includes the sewing room, kitchens, gardens and painting and decorating. Some of them take courses through the Open Polytechnic. As a corrections officer said, "Why wouldn't you? You've got the opportunity there to make something - to better yourself."

Again, some people disagree with this. They argue that they would like to study and learn to sew or play a musical instrument, but they are busy working every day to pay for food, clothing and shelter. How can it be right that those who have committed crimes, get the perks? Well, I can see their point, but I guess it comes down to the purpose of a prison. Do you want to punish, or do you want to rehabilitate?

She says she connects with the prisoners by talking about their family. Many of them miss their children more than anything while they are locked up and, for those who break the cycle of re-offending, they do so because they want to spend more time being a parent and less being absent or detained.

The prisoners are locked in their cells for a couple of hours over midday so that the corrections officers can have their lunch and do their paperwork. They are also locked up alone (for now - there is talk of introducing double-bunking in some prisons, but that is a separate issue) from 5pm until 8am, unless they have special duties. The cells they are locked in are tiny. I spent three minutes in one and I got claustraphobic.

There is a sense of menace in this place, compounded by the close proximity and the boredom of the inmates. They are constantly watched and frequently resentful. No matter what these people have done, the corrections officer I spoke to explained that her job is to ensure the "safe, secure and humane containment" of the prisoners.

"Getting through the day safely without any incidents is always a good one, and ensuring that your prisoners are safe. That to me is your challenge every day – that yourself and your colleagues are okay, and your prisoners are okay. The judging has already been done, which is why they’re in prison. It’s not up to me to judge again."

Naturally, everyone who enters and leaves the prison is searched and monitored. There may be wide blue spaces above, but there are razor-wire perimeter fences around the premises. In The Ballad of Reading Gaol, Oscar Wilde refers to "that little tent of blue that prisoners call the sky". When he learns that one of his fellow prisoners is to be hanged, he declares, "Dear Christ! The very prison walls/ Suddenly seemed to reel,/ And the sky above my head became/ Like a casque of scorching steel;"

To be deprived of freedom is a terrible thing. It may well be a necessary thing, but what do you do with people when you have locked them up? If you don't agree with the death penalty, which I don't, then surely you intend to release them back into society at some point. And hopefully they will have managed to have altered their behaviour in such a way that they will never want to return again.

Having seen the inside of a prison, albeit a nice new one with pleasant facilities, I know that I never want to be in there again, and certainly not if the means to get out don't rest in my hands. What price do we put on freedom? I know that I value it at more than a pool table and an open polytechnic course.

By the way, you can click on any of these pictures to make them bigger. The inmates can't.