is autumnal. There are characteristic drizzly rainy days but also bright sunny ones.
The greenhouse is infested with greenfly ever since the doors have been closed in the cooler weather. I’m still getting chillies & peppers though. A big clean-up is one of the winter jobs.
The last couple of weeks have been bare minimum/automatic pilot because of the massive psychological impact of leaving medicine. I’ve been exhausted by it. Sometimes the ranch just serves its purpose as a secret bolthole – a place of peace and stillness.
The other ranch:
My whole psyche has been geared up to my last 2 days at work – one an 8-4 clinical shift on a Friday and the other an admin shift the Thursday after. We do our rota 18 or 19 weeks at a time and coincidentally, my last week is free of shifts. My consultant colleagues will be able to see that my name isn’t on the rota for that week, so it’s simply not possible for them not to know that Friday will be my last clinical shift. I’m dreading them springing something on me despite the fact that I’ve made it absolutely clear that I don’t want any kind of do.
I’m awake at 5 and up by half-past. Meditation is particularly important today of all days. My hippy-dippy side (from reading too many Castaneda books) tells me that the day will bring an important lesson and that I need to be particularly vigilant. Mindfulness of the longest breath helps with vigilance and focus (hence the English expression ‘take a deep breath’).
The department is strangely un-busy (we don’t use the ‘q’ word). At one point there’s no one waiting to be seen and only 8 patients in the department. It hasn’t been like this since the beginning of the pandemic (when people stayed away because they were scared of coming and catching Covid – mass fear is a powerful force).
We get a standby call for someone who is very sick indeed. They’ve had a cardiac arrest and the crew have got ROSC (= return of spontaneous circulation). I call the anaesthetists and when the patient arrives he’s very agitated. In the room, there’s me, an anaesthetic reg, an ODP (= operating department practitioner), an ED reg and sister, two medical students and a student nurse. We intubate quickly. I give the Propofol and Rocuronium.
I can’t go into clinical details for obvious reasons, but it’s a challenging resuscitation which nevertheless goes very smoothly, with splendid team work. I’m not 95% in charge, I’m 100% in charge. No ifs. No buts. No doubts. Apart from banging in a grey venflon, when the others are struggling, I stand back most of the time and occasionally I’ll interject.
People have different styles of leadership and mine is very much that we, and our individual skill sets, are all equally valuable. I’m not one for barking orders unless it’s necessary. ‘Shall we give some magnesium?’, I suggest to the team. The patient has a further 2 cardiac arrests while he’s with us and needs a Metaraminol infusion to keep his blood pressure up.
The biggest frustration as is often the case, is trying to get specialities at another hospital to accept the patient, then arrange a rapid transfer. I’ve persuaded the crew to wait to take him to the hospital where he’ll be transferred to. While we’re waiting, I say to the anaesthetists (the consultant has arrived now) ‘Do you mind if the family comes in?’ ‘No’ they nod. This is where being in a position of authority is helpful. No one is going to tell us who can and can’t come into our department to see their poorly loved ones. I bring his wife in first. I don’t know about other medical people, but this is the Achilles heel moment for me. When that loved one sees their soul mate in their state of dire unwellness. Fortunately boys don’t cry, especially Burnley ones. This could equally be my daddy, or my mammy, or my brother, or my sister, or my baby. Do you see? She breaks down as you would expect, but moments later, when her daughter comes in, she instantly composes herself. ‘Say hello to your dad.’ This is perhaps the strongest demonstration of human strength imaginable. It shows that women are stronger than men. She is able to compose herself in order to be the best for her children when they need her.
‘Dad, dad’. Sobs the daughter as she holds his hand. Then the two boys come in – big strapping lads like mine. Their reaction is the same.
This is my lesson then. The patient is my age. His wife is probably Louise’s age and the kids are roughly the same age as mine.
The transfer trolley arrives and the patient is gone. The team quickly disperse as we get back to the patients we were sorting before the standby. There’s one more thing though. There’s a fleeting opportunity – a cubic centimetre of chance. This time I do bark like a school teacher, purely because everyone is already dispersed around the department.
‘Gather round please’.
They assemble in a neat semi-circle. I say well done and I tell them that they all did splendidly well. I say that I think that it went as smoothly as if could possibly have gone and they all agree. I then ask if anyone can think of anything that we could have done differently. There’s a consensus that the biggest frustration was waiting for the transfer. We talk about the value of allowing the family in.
‘Whosoever saveth a life …’. It occurs to me that at some time in their lives, all humans will fall down or be knocked down and not be able to get back up on their own. It’s a privilege to be able to help others.
Later in the day, I find an excuse to visit the Freddie Mercury moustached, cross-eyed, buck-toothed Irish stick girl. I’ve taken in a colleague to see her. She says ‘noy’ twice. I’ll miss her and my other colleagues a lot. Her positivity is sunlight and the biggest breath of fresh air ever. We share a lot of the same views and she’s into music.
I get away on time and no one says a thing which I’m grateful for.
Back home, I’m tired and emotional. That’s even before the first sip of the G&T that Louise makes for me. I go for a walk after my tea and it’s blustery. My face is wet and it’s not even raining. Wtf? There are crowds of people walking towards me and the air is filled with bangs and wooshes and incandescent sparkles. It’s all for me. I’m not even imagining it. It’s bonfire night and we live close to the council bonfire.
So that’s it then. All those struggles. All those exams. The grave yards are full of indispensable people, but they won’t ever be able to find anyone remotely like me. Shadz keeps saying that I have a unique skill set and should be passing it on.
My anxiety and erratic sleep continues in anticipation of my actual last day. Surely someone will have spotted it?
As on my last clinical day, I have my eyes peeled for omens and lessons. There’s no point going early on an admin day, because the paper results aren’t usually ready until mid-morning. As I arrive in the car park, there’s a quiet piece on the radio followed by 2 minutes silence. It’s armistice day. That’s the same car park that led to my immediate and unequivocal resignation. There’s a lesson there already.
They sent me an email threatening to fine me for parking on the empty ground floor of the otherwise packed car park and I told them where to stuff it. Those upstairs didn’t like it and that was that.
Coincidentally, some of the nurses have started a petition asking for safe parking. I’ve never worked anywhere that parking hasn’t been a problem. There’s nothing worse than the psychological torture of arriving early, then being late after driving round for ages looking for a space.
Someone accused me of acting in a ‘don’t you know who I am?’ kind of way. I take their point, but I stand by my decision to stand up to the mindless, faceless bureaucracy of an institution that doesn’t have the foresight to provide adequate parking for its staff. I’m not talking about the lovely individuals who work at ground level and I apologise if I’ve pissed any of them off.
‘We’d like you to come and work with us, but unfortunately you won’t be able to park when you get here. Don’t worry though, you’ll be able to log onto the well-being website when you finally arrive.’
The incident was a catalyst, but I would have been going anyway, because as I’ve said a few times, I can’t subscribe to the madness that’s going on under our noses and I need to be able to speak out independently. I could have fought the battle against being sacked by the peanut-headed absolutely unhealth secretary, for not accepting the mRNA compound that has no long-term safety data, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. There is other important work for me to do. To me, remaining silent about the mounting tyranny = complicity. I have to reiterate that I’ve never been pressurised over anything by anyone at work, and I have nothing but love, admiration and respect for my colleagues.
Retirement sounds very pipe and slippers – out to pasture – something for race horses and greyhounds. Certainly not for me. It’s just coincidence that I’m able to start getting payments from the fund that I’ve been paying into for yonks.
A lot of people are accusing healthcare professionals of being negligent for not speaking out about adverse events etc. It’s complex and it really doesn’t work like that. A lot of junior doctors don’t even think to ask about vaccination status. Changes in NHS policies have a sweeping momentum, and not many staff even think of questioning them. It’s not their fault.
I spend the rest of the day keeping a low profile because I’m a soft arse and can’t bear goodbyes. ‘Towards the end of November’ I say, every time someone asks me when I’m finishing. It’s only appropriate that Thomo is the only one who rumbles me, because he’s the main reason that I came to work there in the first place. It’s five-to-six, before he starts his on-call and he asks ‘When are you in next week?’ I can’t lie ‘I’m not’.
We say a proper goodbye and I give him the office guitar. It’s a cheap thing but has good provenance. It was our spare guitar at Strange gigs and Sam played it several times live, when he inevitably broke a string on his Strat. I played it on Dis Non. The song is apt, because although it’s anti-war, it’s saying no, and I’m leaving because I’m saying no.
I quickly pack up and bugger off. I’d prepared well for the day and managed to tie up most loose ends. Out without a bang.
Down the Rabbit Hole
It’s difficult to know where to begin when it comes to trying to describe how the most powerful people in the world operate and who they are – especially in a few words. It’s important though, because it’s 100% linked to what’s happening with the pandemic at the moment. In particular it’s directly linked to Thursday’s dismissal of UK care workers and the announcement of the planned sacking of NHS workers by Sajid Javid.
Less than a handful of corporations own everything that we consume. Not many people will have heard of Vanguard, Black Rock, State Street and Berkshire Hathaway inc. They are the 4 largest investment companies on earth and along with a handful of others, they control most of the money flow on earth. The first two are by far the largest and Vanguard is right at the top of the pyramid. They are major shareholders in literally EVERY major industry: media (including social); food; automotive; construction; banking; electronics; entertainment; chemical; clothing; travel; fossil fuel; mining; pharmaceutical; arms and computer software. They have an absolute monopoly.
Who are the major shareholders of the big 4 and in particular Vanguard? They’re not keen on us knowing, so they have a unique structure that makes it difficult to find out, but if you dig, it’s possible. The major shareholders are the most powerful families on earth, going right the way back to the Europeans who ruthlessly colonised America and the rest of the world. These families are the Rothschilds, The Rockefellers, The Morgans, The Du Ponts and the Bush dynasty. They have a particular attitude of superiority which is difficult for ordinary working people to comprehend – the reason they are superior, is that they were born into it and they believe that it is their birth right to have dominion over us.
They disguise their involvement through so-called non-profit organisations or foundations who rely entirely on donations. These ‘non-profits’ legally do not have to declare who their donors are and they do not have to pay taxes on their profits, provided that these profits are invested in other projects that they are involved in. That means they can mobilise literally trillions of dollars invisibly.
It also means that whatever agenda that they are pushing can be played out and synchronised across the world via their media corporations. As ever, they always pick on the weakest and most vulnerable first – those who have no voice (= care workers in this country). Although they aim for worldwide synchronisation, there are inevitably lags due to cultural differences between countries. Hence, we can reasonably predict what’s coming to the UK via what’s already happening say for example in Australia or Austria.
These super families use families slightly lower down the pecking order as their public front via foundations, the biggest of which are: The Bill and Melinda Gates foundation; George Soros’s Open Society Foundation and The Clinton Foundation. They control all the above-mentioned major industries. Integral to their function are the major investment banks, one of which is Deutche Bank founded in 1870 in Berlin.
Deutche Bank funded the building of Auschwitz and took part in the Aryanisation of Jewish owned businesses and was responsible for 238 confiscations by November 1938. They provided banking facilities for The Gestapo. In 1999 they were forced to contribute to a 5.2 billion Euro lawsuit brought about by holocaust survivors.
The list of scandals and money laundering enterprises that they have been involved in and fined for is huge. In January 2017, they agreed to a $7.2 billion settlement with the United States Department of Justice over its sale and pooling of toxic mortgage securities in the years leading up to the financial crisis of 2007–2008. That’s just one example of many. There’s a lot more detail here.
A UK health secretary should ideally have at least 20 years prior experience of working in the health service, both at clinical and managerial level. Ours, including the current one have NONE WHATSOEVER.
Last week I introduced the concept of The Billion Dollar Unit of Absolute Corruption.
Sajid Javid, joined Deutsche Bank as a director in 2000. In 2004, he became a managing director and, the following year, global head of Emerging Markets Structuring. In 2007, he relocated to Singapore as head of their credit trading, equity convertibles, commodities and private equity business in Asia, and was appointed a board member of Deutche Bank International Ltd. This and all the above info is readily researchable.
Can anyone see it yet? This vilest of foul odious humpty-dumpty hard-boiled eggs on legs, along with the majority of his colleagues, has no vested interest whatsoever in the health and well-being of the UK population. He’s in cahoots with the so-called elite 1 percenters, engaged in destroying and privatising the NHS; breaking down any resistance to the elite and taking away the livelihoods of the middle classes.
I stand 100% with sacked care-workers and NHS workers who will lose their jobs in April. I am totally against jab mandates. I prefer to follow the science, not the propaganda. Matt Hancock was responsible for releasing patients infected with C19 back into care homes resulting in 100s of deaths. It’s reasonable to presume that unvaccinated care workers have been heavily exposed to the virus and therefore have natural or infection-acquired immunity, which as I’ve said a few times, is proving to be as robust, if not more so than vaccinated immunity. Care work is extremely demanding and poorly paid. Most workers are on zero hours contract and therefore have little or no employee rights. They’ve had the toughest of times during the pandemic. Businesses who oppose jab mandates can register with Anna Brees’ (ex BBC journalist) Against Vaccine Passports website.
What is interesting is that the NHS workers who choose not to have the jab are highly motivated and well-informed. Do De Pfeffel, Javid and Co seriously think that they can shite all over them without consequence?
All the above is just one aspect of a dark endless rabbit hole, and there are so many more which are all linked: Klaus Shwab’s World Economic Forum and Young Global Leaders; Jeffrey Epstein; Skull and Bones and many more. It’s important to point out the way that we are (mis)ruled. Politicians are merely puppets way below the top of the pyramid.
Totalitarianism creeps up fine slice by fine slice. A lot of people are making comparisons to 30s Germany. The propaganda machine is similar, in inciting hatred against a particular minority. The difference today is the use of sophisticated internet algorithms. Each new measure is hinted at, to test the waters, before being made compulsory. Everything we do is mapped via our smart phones and computers.
What’s happening in pandemic land?
I am 100% convinced that C19 vaccines are leading to a huge increase in thrombophilic events (= blood clots) and impaired T cell function. I can provide the evidence.
Literally hundreds of younger fit people worldwide have dropped dead suddenly from heart attacks. These include athletes during vigorous activity and there is only one common denominator. It sounds like a loon conspiracy theory except it’s 100% true. People will begin to wake up when it happens to someone close to them.
There’s a sickening rise in aggressive cancers in younger people which can only be partly explained by reduced access to healthcare.
There’s a rise in rapid deterioration of pre-existing cancers and menstrual problems in women.
There are massive demonstrations worldwide against vaccine passports, not mentioned once in the MSM.
I anticipate more senior medical people speaking out, when they begin to see levels of death and illness in younger age groups exceeding anything that can be put down to coincidence.
Given the increasing evidence supporting natural and infection-acquired immunity, there’s no scientific evidence for vaccine passports. It’s all political. The apartheid will increase, as it has done in several western countries already.
All this can get terribly depressing and it’s important to retain a sense of humour and appreciate the immense importance of one’s loved ones. The sooner M C Saga gets his TikTok going, the better.
Rock & Roll & family life:
I refuse to use the ‘C’ word until the beginning of December (The one with Jingle Bells silly, not the rude one). Nevertheless, it’s one of my favourite times of year. Our little eccentric family is doing OK, what with new babies and charity shop finds.
Louise is a consummate finder of interesting stuff – particularly clothes. Each day she is extremely well co-ordinated and accessorised. Yesterday for example, she wore a lime green armless dress over a cream blouse with insect designs + bottle green tights. There is always unusual jewellery, most of which she’s designed and made herself. When I tried to find a comparison, by saying that she was in Vivienne Westwood’s league, she immediately said ‘I’m better than her’. She’s right. She’s in a league of her own. Often, she will trial 2 or 3 outfits before settling on one for the day. Today’s first outfit for example was an all-in-one flouncy thing with wide trousers – black with white spots – something like Erin might wear.
The paradox is that she could have her own viral Insta channel showing off this stuff, but I’m expressly forbidden from sharing it. She doesn’t want anyone else knowing her business and she doesn’t want to reveal her sources. Daily I’ll say ‘Is that a new garment? She’ll either say ‘No I’ve had it for ages’ or ‘Yes, I got it yesterday for a pound’. She never tells me where from, because she thinks I might tell someone.
Gaz and I did our second two-piece gig at The Tapsters on the 6th. As the evening wore on, the bar gradually emptied and by the time we played, there were less than 10 people in. Nevertheless, I liked it because there was nowhere to hide. The people that were there listened attentively and we played OK. Saturdays Unpeeled gig, may be our last ‘loud’ gig and we’re playing our more blasting full-on stuff. Tickets available here I need to stop doing loud gigs because of my screaming tinnitus.
Tyler is drumming with us and we rehearsed at the weekend. Afterwards we had our usual well-lubricated soiree, listening to music via YT vids. At one point, they started putting on cartoons. ‘I thought we were listening to music’ I said. They played South Park clips in all their glorious political-incorrectness and inappropriateness – giant turds and so on. There’s one point when we’re all howling with laughter, with tears rolling down our faces.