I am thankful that my health has always been good, however the time may come when I need to make use of the National Insurance contributions that are taken from me, without so much as a by your leave, every month. I'd be very annoyed if I needed the service having paid all this money, only to be told that I was prohibited from using it.
Dick Puddlecote has highlighted the following:
It's been coming for a while, but NHS West Kent have become the first health authority to actively pursue a comprehensive policy of restricting treatment based on social criteria.
The policy document states that:
From this month, patients who smoke and need planned surgery will have to complete a NHS Stop Smoking course before their operation.
Patients who are clinically obese or with a BMI (body mass index) of more than 30 will also have their surgery delayed and will have to carry out a weight loss programme. Health bosses said that losing the weight would reduce the length of hospital stay and lessen the risk of complication.
It's a good job I don't live in Kent. . .
That's alright, though, there's no way that anyone else in the county would do the same. It isn't as if savings have to be made to accommodate the legions of non-surgical management and outreach diversity equality community bollock juggling officers is there?
I would raise merry hell if he were denied treatment. Leave aside the anti-smoking dog whistle for a moment. I pay my NI contributions because I am forced to. If I were not forced to, I would take out a cheaper, better, private healthcare package. I would pay a premium for this as I would declare my smoking.
As a smoker I also pay a premium on top of the NI contributions to cover my NHS treatment in the form of the duty on the tobacco I buy.
So I pay for a service, and am then told that even though I pay for it, I am to be denied treatment? There's a word for that, it'll come to me in a moment. . .
Ah yes. Fraud. That's it.
Oh don't worry, I am but a filthy smoker, I deserve everything I get, I am untermensch. If you drink alcohol, or eat food that does not fit the dictated standard, they'll do the same to you, too.
Yeah, OK, snort with derision. Don't believe me, I really couldn't care less. When they go after the drinkers, they don't mean you, you who sit there with your glass of Chianti classico riserva with your dinner, they mean the chavs who get dosed up on slut petrol before hitting the vertical drinking establishments on a Friday night. When they go after the fatty food eaters, they don't mean you, you who eat your filet mignon with duck fat chips, they mean the pram faced single mums who serve up fat and salt ridden microwave meals to their multi-coloured offspring in the estate on the other side of town seven nights a week.
Sail on, it has nothing to do with you, you're a good boy or girl, you do what you're told. I am evil, I deserve to be turned away. I should probably be chained to the hospital gates to act as a warning to the others like me.
Scum, scum, scum. I'm scum.
Fine. Well, Leg-Iron has hit a nerve with me, and I'll act like fucking scum. You'll not like it, but then I couldn't give a toss.
Don't take my money, eject me from the game and still expect to play nicely. It ain't gonna happen, chum.