Hmm…Its all gone quiet in Madland (if anyone out there has even noticed!).

Two reasons for this. Firstly rather embarassingly I fell over last week, my fall being broken by my mobile phone, which now has a dirty great crack on the screen. So my favoured input device (here) is with the phone doctor at the moment and is hence unavailable for use at the moment.
The time without fully functioning phone was further exacerbated by mobile phone insurance company insisting the phone was 3G enabled and therefore the excess was twice as much. In the end I had to resort to

• emailing the company who sold me the phone (and the insurance) to let me know how to access 3G
• emailing Nokia to confirm the phone was not 3G
• emailing 3 to enquire whether I could connect to the 3 network with the phone [1]
• Googling reviews and tech spec on the phone which stated the phone was 2.5G and lack of 3G was it’s week point then forwarding it to the insurers.

The situation was finally resolved but it added an extra week onto the process.
To be honest it was getting more difficult anyway as the dark nights draw in. Is was only a matter of time before I walked into an old lady or slipped on dog turd.
The other reason is more of a worry. Out department IT manager has given in his notice. They do not anticipate appointing someone into the same role. A decission has been made to move his hardware/back-up functions to the hospital IT department and, for the short term (where have I heard that before), create a team from others who have knowledge of the various discrete IT systems within the department to look after it while long term plans are decided. (The whole department is undergoing a ‘help we’re overspent’ workforce review [2]).
So this team will look after things in the meantime. But they need someone nominally in charge. Guess who’s the only band seven in the team.
So I have been tasked with obtaining all the info I can in five weeks from someone known for being forthcoming. Someone who’s been doing the job for five years.
…And I’ve got to keep on at my day job.
…And the boss would like me to update our intranet site and produce marketing leaflets for the GP.

[1] Interestingly 1 week later and I have still heard nothing from 3. Good job it wasn’t a real problem! 

[2] ie can we downgrade/sack/put out to pasture/not replace anyone.

Secret base under construction

We’re spending a long weekend with the kids revisiting the bright lights on London (tied in with an appointment for them at one of the specialist hospitals so it’s not truancy OK?).
We found a reasonable deal on the ‘net for North London Days Hotel [1]. Arrived last night, checked in as normal. Noticed nothing out of the ordinary.
Went out to the car this morning to get the old A to Z and noticed the hotel car park is absolutely heaving with British Gas vans.
I’m sure there is some innocent explanation but, as we are in the middle of Daniel Craig/new James Bond fever at the moment, I can’t help imagining the Days Inn is just a front and there is a massive secret [2] base underneath it preparing the way for the British Gas-British Government military industrial complex to make a move on democracy. Just hope we’ve checked out before the grand finale when the whole thing blows up while JB makes a break for it with the tenuously named girl.

[1] Formerly London Gateway Days Inn at London Gateway service, which I still know as Scratchwood services.

[2] Well OK not that secret with all the vans outside.

I have a confession. We have a Land Rover Discovery. It has seven seats, two of which fold away in the back. Ideal for when the grandparents visit.Ideal for delivering my children’s friends home after a visit. We live in the middle of nowhere. Their friends live in the middle of nowhere.Widely dispersed.
In my wife’s last job she had to travel around the county down dirt tracks to Nowheresville. A Nissan Micra wasn’t an option.To cap it all, just after we moved to the area, we were hit by horrendous flooding that cut off the North half of the county from the Southern bit.
Now everything has changed. My wife’s job is more office based, we have not experienced any more monsoons, road tax has gone up and we’re pissing through diesel like its water. And then there’s the green issue.
What to do?
I get annoyed when I hear witterings about taxing ‘gas guzzling’ cars for two reasons. Firstly because we are not American and therefore do not use ‘gas’. If we have to resort to clichés can we at least use one of our own (and, being an abbreviation for gasoline, gas is not appropriate for oil burners anyway). Mainly however my annoyance is based on the fact that I am already paying tax on gas guzzling by guzzling gas.
So I get rid of the car. What do I do?
Do I sell it and buy something more economical and eco friendly? But isn’t whoever buys it going to drive it and therefore create the same environmental damage I would have?
Maybe I should scrap it? Even if I could afford to lose more than ten grand how many years of driving is it going to take to produce the same amount of CO2 that will be used to dispose of it and to produce the new I would replace it with? (I think I’ve established the fact that public transport is rubbish where I live).
Surely if the Government wants us to stop using such vehicles (and we’ll forget issues like personal freedom and consumer choice for a moment) the only way to do it is to prevent further vehicles entering the system. Penalise new sales. Create incentives not to buy them more. Anything else would be nothing more than passing our guilt onto the next person.

More taxes aren’t going to stop this cycle. The revenue raised doesn’t allieviate the situation. It pays for expensive mistakes like Iraq. I know it. You know it. They’re not fooling anyone.
 Maybe the Goverment could encourage us by starting a car exchange program. We give them our 4X4s, SUVs and executive saloons; they give us approved vehicles in return.
…Oh and they could give up their Jags and BMWs too. There’s only one of them and their driver. What’s wrong with using a Smart?
 
[1] Or the one further up the chain of cars that rolled off the production line to supply my replacement?

AfC was sold as an engine for promoting role development.

Far from acting as a motivator for role development it has had the opposite effect. In the past financial inducements could be offered. For example I have undergone significant education and performance audits to report scans rather than letting them sit in a pile for two weeks. A couple of years ago I could get a little over £1k as a reporting allowance. This may sound a lot but for that I am exposing myself to a lot more risk and chance of litigation. Formy  own protection it is suggested I join the Medical Defence Union; which, of course, costs money [1]. Now, under AfC, as a modality superintendent I am already a band 7. Reporting won’t take me up a band. No more money – so why do it? All that extra risk for nothing.

I am not the only one of this opinion. An unnamed source at the SHA has admitted AfC is more of a barrier to role/service development than a motivator. ’Bloody nightmare’ were her actual words. 

[1] I assume that by this stage there will be cries of ‘Quacktitioner’ but in this instance I disagree (well I would wouldn’t I). Numerous studies have show suitably trained and experienced radiographers’ performance equal or exceed that of radiology SPRs (or senior registrars in old money). Give me time and I might did out the refs. Before I could report I had to demonstrate 95% concurrence with the consultant radiologist’s report. There isn’t normally 95% concurrence between consultant radiologists. Reporting radiographers are taught to understand their limitations. If I’m not happy with a scan I will ALWAYS seek consultant guidance.

The simple fact is there will never be enough radiologists. You don’t want radiographers to report then don’t ask for so many x-rays. Failing that be prepared for them to be sent oversees for reporting.

Over two thousand pounds for a new radioactive flood source [1] and I still have to put the wheels on the case myself!!
[1] think large, rectangular radioactive tea-tray. Used to produce a uniform field of radiation for quality control of gamma cameras. Needs a large lead-lined box to cart it around in.

A constant theme I will harken back to in times of little news or of anything else interesting happening is that of Agenda for Change (henceforth referred to as AfC).

The NHS is one of the largest employers in Europe employing over 1.3 millions people.  The NHS workforce strategy aims to make the NHS a great place to work and Agenda for Change is one way of achieving this.  Agenda for Change is a new pay and reform package that will ensure that people who work in the NHS are paid on the basis of equal pay for work of equal value.

It didn’t work. It’s still a shit place to work and its getting deeper. It certainly doesn’t ensure equal pay for equal work.

It was rolled out nationally from 1 December 2004, with pay and most terms and conditions backdated to 1 October. The aim was for 100% assimilation by 30 September 2005.

Despite what propoganda may have been issued from the DoH, it still hasn’t.

This was a collective agreement between all the major health unions and the Government so, of course, everyone is happy with it. Aren’t they?

The other day I was using a strange computer [1] and decided to catch up with the latest musings of Dr Crippin. Being somewhat old and forgetful [2] I googled “nhs blog doctor” to help out. I found not only the necessary address but also this entry in Wikablog.

“Duly noted are his irrational attacks and uninformed hatred of ME sufferers (now ME patients who haven’t embraced the controversial diagnosis of chronic Lyme disease — those who have are now exempt from his excoriation as they have entered the sacred walled garden of Crippen Compassionland). One wonders what his employers make of his online rantings, or the GMC regarding his parading of his unwanted patients on a blog. Where does a “full time” NHS doctor get the time for such idle pursuits, we wonder, when there are so many medical journals to be read? “

I don’t know what the author’s problem is. I can understand them taking umbrance at Dr C’s opinion on ME but what problem do they have with him blogging? What do they think a doctor’s life should be?
Wake up, eat, go to work, do doctoring things, go home, read learned tomes, eat, read journals, go to bed?

Just to make sure I am not tarred with the same brush I would like to point out:-

• There is insufficient space in the hospital car park.
• Staff have had their spaces taken away for patients to use [3]
• I live in the middle of nowhere
• The bus service is crap
• This means I have a 15 minute walk to and from the car twice a day.
• I therefore have ample time to type with my thumbs as I walk onto my Nokia 9300 [4].

Please don’t run me over.

[1] By strange I mean someone else’s computer, not one with a spiked keyboard, self-waxing mouse and a screen which is only visible in the near infra-red.

[2] Is being ageist about yourself illegal yet?

[3] More complex than that but that is another rant in itself.

[4] A skill acquired typing university coursework on a 30 minute walk home onto an old Psion 3a some years ago.

(Image c/o worth100.com)

I am relatively new to blogging.

It was something I’d read about in the Times weekend supplement , thought it sounded interesting, then promptly forgot all about it due to the demands of family life or work and due to laziness or stupidity.

For a while now I’ve become a big fan of the excellent Dr Crippin and Ian Reynolds.
I note with sadness the passing of Angry NHS Doctor.
I also note the under-representation of radiographers in the blogging world. So I thought I’d give it a go.

I may find out I’m rubbish at it. I may be OK. The Thought Police at work may block the site, making catching up in my lunch break impossible (they already blockBlogger.com). I may just forget to do it (see above).

Unfortunately I gave up casualty work a couple of years ago so the chance of the gory details of an interesting foreign body is unlikely. But, you never know, there’s always the chance of a ‘misplaced’ whiskey tumbler turning up.