Anger, pure anger.

For the second time in my life I’ve watched the so-called medical profession assume that they know better than the patient what is wrong with them. Aisling nearly died because of it. And today one of my friends was admitted, sent home and then re-admitted at 1am, by me.

And the Doctor kept talking over her, and ignoring her, and saying she should go home and that it wasn’t a fucking emergency. He wouldn’t listen, and he wouldn’t fucking take in a fucking word. Every time she tried to speak he spoke over her. Every time I said “can you please let her finish” he’d talk over me.

He presumed he was God’s fucking Gift, and he knows less than fuck all. He tried to pull the abusive patient shit. If I ever have to work with him I’ll damn well let him know what I think of his ‘bedside manner’.

Fortunately, I actually work in the NHS, so I know who to ask for and who to request, and what to say to make them keep someone in. So she’s in overnight. But I’m scared for her because they are so fucking useless. And I am so fucking angry that so-called doctors like that continue to work in the NHS because it doesn’t deserve them; and they don’t deserve to be called doctors.


Kate is lord and mistress of all she surveys at

2 thoughts on “Anger, pure anger.

  1. Can’t really say, ‘s not my place. Will explain when I visit…

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