In May of 2021 I wrote a ramble entitled ‘Childhood illnesses vs extreme sports’. The introduction to the ramble went as follows.
“Even before our beloved National Health Service was introduced in 1948, Britain was one of the healthiest nations in the world. However, when I was a lad, the things that were waiting to whisk us away were many and varied. Among the joyful things hovering over us were tuberculosis, influenza, diphtheria, typhoid, polio, scarlet fever, rheumatic fever, tetanus, whooping cough, mumps, measles, rubella (German measles) and rickets, to name but a few. All of which are still waiting to pounce on the unprepared and/or unlucky.”
Life before the eradication of polio
When I was a lad there were a couple of children in our village with leg bracers, likely due to poliomyelitis (polio), but these things were always hushed up – it was well known that polio was spread by poor hygiene.
Polio’s reputation for cruelty was legendary. It affected the nervous system, but fortunately most people (usually children) had mild symptoms and soon recovered. For others, though, it meant a lifetime of disabilities or even death. The ones who survived could find themselves completely paralysed and unable to breathe. The ‘iron lung’ was developed in the 1930s for patients who were unable to breathe without aid and in the mid-1950s a vaccine was developed which has successfully eradicated the disease in all but two countries in the world – Pakistan and Afghanistan – where the wild poliovirus type 1 is still endemic.
I can still remember a team of doctors and ‘nit nurses’ periodically arriving at my junior school to inflict fear and pain. As we lined up for our jab, the previous young warrior would appear rubbing their arm, in floods of tears, or both, each one exaggerating the suffering they had to endure.
As it was a vaccine, I assume it was a vaccination, but after careful research it could have been an inoculation or even an immunization. I was none the wiser after my research. I’m sure someone will know the difference. I dare not ask the Colonel, for she is bound to accuse me of testing her vast medical knowledge, or equally risky, she may feel that I am asking a question when I already know the answer. It is sometimes best to be in blissful ignorance.
Iron lungs and spitting for fun
The picture below shows a ward of approximately 30 iron lungs. They are angled in a way so that each patient cannot see their immediate neighbour. The reason for this may be explained by a story told by Jeff Jacklin, who carries out talks on various subjects – on the occasion Moi and I attended, it was about the NHS.
He recounted a story told by an elderly lady who spent much of her childhood in an iron lung. To pass the time, she and her friend in the next iron lung would spit at each other. I don’t know how much truth there is in this story, but who am I to judge what youngsters find to entertain themselves when stuck in an iron lung for weeks, months or even years. I’m sure in my case spitting at someone would be a minor sport. I would be ready to kill after a month in one of those things.
Jeff’s very interesting talk (in June of 2024) was at the Colne Valley Probus club. Now Let’s get one ‘white elephant’ out of the way first – what was I doing there? The description of the national and international Probus club principles is as follows.
“A Probus club is a local association of retired and semi-retired professional and business people, and others who have had some measure of responsibility in any field of worthy endeavour, who are of character and respected in their communities. Clubs meet regularly for fellowship and an extension of their interests.”
Many so-called friends have asked, ‘Why was YOU invited?’ The answer is, I don’t know. The best I can come up with is that my proposer is a very nice chap. He is a retired teacher from Colne Valley High School. Luckily, he started his teaching career after I had left, and knew nothing of me in my late teens, otherwise I’m sure he would have had second thoughts. Now I’ve got that out of the way, back to the NHS talk.
The mighty NHS – some (very big) numbers
Not only did the speaker describe the history of the NHS, but he used many statistics to emphasise its importance. For instance, he said that the NHS was the fifth largest employer in the world*.
When these statistics were compiled during lockdown, Wal-Mart stores employed 2.1 million, Amazon 1.8 million, and McDonalds came third with 1.7 million. I’ll give you a few seconds to think what the fourth largest employer in the world may have been…
………………………………….
… that seems like a few seconds, well done if you came up with Indian Railways, with 1.4 million. Hot on its heels was our beloved NHS, with 1.38 million employees. The NHS also employ the largest number of highly skilled workforce in the world.
One in 23 of the workforce in Britain work for the NHS. Some 77% are female, 30% are nurses (410,000) and there are over 100 volunteering roles throughout the NHS.
Every day 92,000 attend A&E departments, ambulances make 7,000 blue-light journeys, 73,000 adults receive NHS dental treatment, 224,000 people attend outpatients, 3,850 bed-blockers are stuck in hospital that could go home but cannot for various reasons and for no fault of their own, 35,000 go for eye tests, 836,000 have GP appointments, and 20,000 people call NHS direct.
From all those 1,290,850 patients attending something in the NHS each day, only 480 complain about their care. This is a remarkable figure and I think proves what excellent care the NHS provides and how highly it is regarded by the general public. But it wasn’t always so.
We took a bit of convincing, mind
In 1942, William Beveridge was commissioned by the government to look into social policy in post-war Britain. His recommendations were eventually implemented by Clement Atlee’s Labour government in 1948. The health minister Aneurin Bevan is widely credited as being the NHS founder. There were three main groups against this idea, two were predictable, one not so much.
The first main opponents to the NHS, predictably, were the rich. As they could afford their own care, why should they pay for others through higher taxes? It took all the diplomatic skills of Aneurin Bevan to point out that many of the military personnel returning from the war and who had fought for their lifestyle and freedom now needed care that they could not afford.
The second group were the doctors, many of whom feared that they would lose income. Local authorities and voluntary bodies, which ran the hospitals, also feared that they would lose control. Again, Aneurin Bevan had to promise that no doctor would be financially worse off. They could keep their private patients and the hospitals could be run as before. It was a close thing and Aneurin Bevan managed to get 75% of doctors on board.
The third group was a surprise at the time, and it had nothing to do with money. At first the general public saw the NHS as a charity and their pride dictated that they were not having hand-outs. But after it was pointed out that it would not be a free hand-out – since nearly every working adult would be paying for the NHS through national insurance contributions and higher taxes for the rich – people came round to the idea.
The NHS may not be perfect, but it’s as near as dammit. We are incredibly lucky to be able to call on all these skills and facilities. We must all fight tooth and nail to keep it.
*Editor’s note – according to Wikipedia, the NHS is now the seventh largest employer in the world.
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