I feel like I need to preface this blog with a little flag waving.
I am a strident supporter of the NHS, as a concept and as a practical user. My brain cannot comprehend a definition of ‘civilised society’ where caring for the poor, the sick and the weak isn’t a cornerstone of that society.
On coming round from my lumpectomy (spoilers) after establishing the well being of the nurses around me, I spoke at length of my love of the NHS. I was high on morphine at the time, so goodness knows what this robust monologue consisted of, and to their very great credit not one of those nurses smothered me with a pillow, which goes to prove what saints they truly are – not least because I also sang or at least heavily referenced Pharrell Williams’ Happy as well. It’s all a bit blurry.
So I guess this is a disclaimer. My personal views are shared in this little blog; it is as open and honest an account as I can stomach to make it – my own letter to my future self. Sometimes I get frustrated, make unexpected choices and sometimes I get angry at the people trying to help – I get angry with friends, loved ones and kittens too, this illness just makes you mad sometimes (this doesn’t mean I’m not totally legit mad at you. It just means that perhaps, when I think about it later, I was right not to bite you).
The fact is I feel lucky; lucky that of all the worries that came flooding into my life when I heard the word cancer – how I might afford to pay for the high quality care and top of the line medication I need – was not one of them.
I know there may be flaws in the system, but at least we have a system and while we still have it, it can be improved. You can, if you are able, opt out of it and I’m totally cool with that too. This is a live and let live kind of blog.