Monthly Archives: January 2015

Lonely and scared? Never with ambulance crews

Woman crying
Relax, it’s going to be alright –
the ambulance crew are here

When did our world become so cruel?

People don’t care. They’re rude and greedy. Shove you aside to grab for themselves.

A shocking example, set from Westminster on down. You can’t blame the yobs when the toffs are doing it too.

Nobody wants to know any more. Love is dead.

Until you call an ambulance

You might have to wait a while though, these NHS ambulance guys are busy.

So busy, those parliamentary do-gooders are falling over themselves to complain about how long it takes.

They’ve never had to queue, nine deep, to deliver an code-blue emergency to an over-worked A&E. Never faced grid-locked traffic, or Lord Muck in the Roller, refusing to move over for lights and siren.

Or been so hard-pressed and over-stretched that London Ambulance have had to fly in a relief squad of 175 paramedics from Oz.

Yeah, they’ll get to you – in maybe more than the 4 hours officially designated. A wild thumbsuck target set by Westminster wonks who never drive themselves.

But what can you expect when traffic in Central London is only 8.98 mph?

They never learn, do they? That’s the same speed as a horse-drawn carriage in 1830.

Dedication and respect

But at least the ambulance people get to you!

And that’s when you find out – they’re the only people in the whole world who care.

Who treat you with respect and consideration.

There you are, terrified, with a rib sticking through your chest.

Who else in the world is so calm, so soothing, so skilled that every movement puts you at your ease? (Tweet this)

You know you’re in good hands.

Even the Aussie blokes say so – top paramedics, selected from Sydney’s best.

Because London is the busiest ambulance service in the world and that’s why they want to work here. 5,000 calls a day is a challenge they can’t resist – remember Crocodile Dundee?

It’s OK

They’re here to help you. To reassure, to care, to get you towards feeling better.

They’re dedicated and professional too.

But who teaches them that wonderful compassion and the skill to restore confidence, only a few short years out of school? The Aussies, the Kiwis, the Poles – or our own home-grown heroes, right here in the Old Country?

Nobody else in the world can care for you better.

Not even your GP, who’s swamped with patients now out-of-hours work is stopped.

And it’s a terrifying world when you don’t know what’s happened to you.

Especially at 2.00 in the morning, when NHS paramedics are the only people on the planet who are concerned that you’re having a panic attack.

They don’t call it love, but that’s what it is.

Compassion and care for fellow human beings, totally selfless and unreserved.

So the NHS is the biggest waste of money in the UK is it?

Political rethink

Try remembering that when you’ve fallen down the stairs and you think you’re going to die.

The only people who are going to help you are wearing NHS badges – and they’re in the middle of a 12-hour shift.

You slag them off, but they still love you.

Even enough to save you from yourself.

NHS strike: who can blame them?

Aggro woman
You’d strike too, if people wasted your time the same way

Shock, horror. Whatever will we do?

No gumming up A&E with split fingernails. No ambulance to pick up the shopping from Tesco.

It’s a disgrace, that’s what it is.

You betcha.

The real price tag

Over-worked health professionals doing 12 hour shifts for small change, while the fat-cat administrators pull down enough to fund a small country.

You’d strike too, under those circumstances.

For a lot more than the 1% these folk are asking.

Day and night they’re on the job, every day of the year. With rank-and-file workers often on less than £1,800 a month.

So how long would you last on that, at the pace they have to work at?

Pie in the sky

Meanwhile, in those swish Band 9 offices with the reserved parking bay outside, £1,800 might be closer to the take-home for a week.

And these aren’t necessarily doctors, mind. Not even technical experts.

Amazing where you can get with the right politics, isn’t it? And the right network.

Plugged in all the way to Westminster. Where salaries and expenses and budgets don’t mean a lot anyway.

Unless you’re the unfortunate one in the hot seat who’s unavoidably responsible.

So the actual workers are jumping up and down for a 1% increase. Less than 50p a day. Not even parking money to the fat cats. Not even enough for their newspaper.

Peanuts at the price

Trim their salaries to make up the deficit and they wouldn’t even feel it. Half a day’s less sun-lounger on the beach at Ibiza.

Yet they and all the other heavies are complaining the strike will put lives at risk.

Except – reality check – lives are at risk already, if you’re an actual worker.

You try coming out on £1,800 a month – rent, utilities and groceries – with still enough to pay for your Oyster card to get to work. What do you mean, car? Is this some kind of joke?

Which is exactly what arguing the toss on this strike is.

Sure it pushes up costs, which the NHS cannot afford.

Unless it’s clawed back from the fat cats who none of us asked for or needed in the first place.

Let any one of them come into A&E and complain about the service.

Or sound off that the NHS is a waste of money, like that uber-large political dinosaur on TV last week.

What price, duty of care?

50p to fix your fingernail? Try doing that down the High Street.

Or does sir need special attention from falling out of a taxi after an evening of special networking? Slightly concussed are we? Bit of a broken leg?

Yes, it’s a waste of money fixing it up – but they’ll do it anyway. On the house, like they always do.

OK, so it’s 1% and we’ll all wind up paying for it somehow.

But who cares, if you’re really in trouble and could just die?

You won’t find more dedicated experts anywhere. (Tweet this)

Or better attention for your fingernails.

Beat the severe flu season – do nothing

Girl doing nothing
Don’t bother me,
I’m keeping everybody else healthy

It’s better than pulling a sickie – and it’s official.

To avoid coming down with this year’s nasty, take yourself out of circulation.

STAY AT HOME!

It seems finally the research wallahs have been hit by common sense.

The “doh” effect

If you take yourself out of the equation, nothing can happen to you.

Not quite the same as your Doc saying take two weeks in the sun. But the nearest thing to it.

Believe it or not, this “procedure” even has a name.

Non-pharmaceutical intervention“.

And it’s the brain-child of four high-powered American study centres: University of California, Arizona State University, Georgia State University and Yale University.

Like, wow.

These guys are serious though,  and so are their recommendations.

Makes sense

Wide-spread flu attacks should be treated as an epidemic and the most effective way to avoid them is “social distancing.”

That’s where the “stay at home” bit comes in.

As evidence, the boffins cite the outbreak of A/H1N1 swine flu in Mexico City in 2009.

Inundated with cases, the federal government shut schools and people stayed home – limiting the number of others they came in contact with.

Kinda obvious isn’t it?

If you’ve got the bug, you can’t give it to anyone except the family.

And if anyone else has got it, they don’t come near you.

You’re laughing.

Prevention

Back to the old philosophy: prevention is better than cure.

So it’s not YOU who should call your boss, because you’re sick and staying home.

It’s YOUR BOSS who should call you, because others are sick and you should stay home. (Tweet this)

A one-word tactic – AVOID.

Way better and more productive than dragging yourself to work, bringing everyone else down with it so the whole export department is out, clogging up your GP for antibiotics that don’t work, then staggering in to an overcrowded A&E because the flu brought complications from working late.

Just think of the price tag too – to you, to your employer, to the NHS, and to the country.

In fact, staying home is MORE productive.

Well, you’ve got broadband haven’t you? So you’re not going to sit there, bored out of your skull with Eastenders.

You can network the office or anywhere in the world – snug as bug under the duvet with a mug of hot chocolate – on flexible hours too, so the heck with the alarm clock.

Skype, Hangouts, what’s the problem?

Plus, plus, plus!

If your employer’s on the ball, he applies AVOID tactics too.

Not just by staying home himself.

But by taking the opportunity to sterilise the offices – remove all viruses and bacteria completely.

No germs at work

No residue bugs hanging around to infect people when they come back.

Easy peasy – mist the place up with hydrogen peroxide ultra-fine spray and all germs are oxidised to nothing.

Flu, norovirus, e.coli, campylobacter, c.difficile, salmonella, legionnaire’s disease, smallpox, Ebola, whatever – all dead and gone and not coming back.

So what’s not to like?

You get time off, paid to put your feet up.

Your offices get purified.

Nobody suffers a moment with coughs or sniffles.

SORTED!

Yes, sure it’s bloody obvious, as the Duke of Edinburgh might say.

So why didn’t we think of this before?

A&E lockdown: shock norovirus wipeout

Rush to AandE
Panic stations, yes –
but not the end of the world

Fortunately, there is a panic button to press.

A very effective one too.

But first priority has to be to evacuate everybody out of there.

Set up somewhere for a few hours with unaffected staff – a marquee from the ambulance service is better than nothing.

Because this is winter and things can’t stop running.

You can’t stop the world

Cold weather. Ice. Old people falling and traffic accidents – you know the score.

Now, the panic button.

It’s on the front panel of an automated room steriliser. A thing that looks like a small stylish wheelie-bin. Press it, and you have 30 seconds to leave the room – before it starts spraying an ultra-fine mist of ionised hydrogen peroxide.

Yes, the same hydrogen peroxide from yonks back that you might use to treat wounds and disinfect.

Nineteenth Century champion

But with a high-tech Twenty-First Century difference.

Ionised, that fine spray is significantly smaller than drops of water mist. So light, it rides easily into the air, spreading upwards and outwards. Under things too – and behind – and deep into crevices where normal cleaning doesn’t reach.

Except this isn’t a cleaner. It’s a full-on Log 6 steriliser.

As a powerful oxidiser, hydrogen peroxide is a killer for viruses and bacteria. All of them.

It’s electronically charged too, so it physically reaches out and grabs pathogen cells, releasing oxygen atoms that rip their cell structure apart. A dry mist that evaporates as it works.

And to make doubly sure, that mist is boosted with another known germ-killer from way back – colloidal silver.

An ultra-thin residue of it is left on surfaces, a sterilising layer for on-going protection.

Safe and secure

No germs can survive this double onslaught. They’re gone on contact. No more norovirus, no more e.coli. No more Ebola either, if you were ever unfortunate enough to face that challenge.

And the stuff reaches everywhere, including places that never normally get touched. The underside of beds and trolleys, the keyboards and cables of electronic equipment, behind and on top of cupboards.

And the one place that never normally gets treated – the total room AIR space.

Worth remembering, that.

Because since all microbes are smaller than the eye can see, they’re mostly airborne anyway – even if that’s not how they’re contracted.

It’s in the air

Normal sterilising takes care of surfaces, but not the air. So as soon as you’re done, the bugs settle back – and you sit with a re-infection problem. (Tweet this)

Sterilise the air too, and that doesn’t happen.

Twenty minutes, forty, and you’re done – it depends on the room size. Totally safe too, hydrogen peroxide decomposes in action to just oxygen and water, which evaporates anyway. Then, just in case, say another ten minutes to vent.

Less than an hour and you’re back in business.

The entire place is sterilised, just by pressing a button.

Ask the folks in the haematology department at Salford Royal, they’ve had their machine for two years now – and infections are seriously down.

Under sixty minutes

So, less than an hour. Didn’t think it could be that quick? Well, with all the pressure on NHS right now, who can afford to close a ward for a week, let alone A&E?

If it’s super urgent, call Jon Knight on 07776 451222 or click here. A hit team can be rolling ASAP, often within the hour.

Easy-peasy, and you’re sorted. No more norovirus. Or anything else.

Hope you never caught it in the line of fire.

Antibiotics don’t work – our immune systems are shot too

Hand with stethoscope
You can’t get ill if you don’t catch germs in the first place

Blame it on our super-slick 21st Century lifestyle.

The one that cocoons us from the world, shielding us from harm and often reality.

It’s not like that in Asia. Or Africa. Or South America.

Or anywhere without our idyllic standard of living.

Mollycoddled weaklings

We’re so protected we have no resistance to anything that comes along – a baby could knock us over with a feather.

We’re too big deal, see. Too shielded for our own good.

That’s the key reason antibiotics don’t work anymore.

We’re so used to popping them for the slightest hiccup, we use them like sugar in our tea.

And with that volume of use, no wonder all the microbes and harmful pathogens have developed resistance. It’s kinda like putting shoes on before they go out for them. They all do it.

More fool us.

Because now when we take an antibiotic for something, it just sits there and looks at us.

“You mean you want me to protect you, drive out the evil nasties? Sorry, too much PT.”

It’s our own fault too. Our own stupidity.

You won’t find a youngster from Islamabad or Bogota behaving like us when we were kids.

We’re microbes too, you see. Sort of.

Millions of cells all bunched together, marching around – with all kinds of jumped up ideas about ourselves.

We’re cells, they’re cells, every living thing is cells.

Just act naturally

Which means we’d better co-operate and get on. It’s total oblivion otherwise.

And we do.

Everything we are and do is a trade-off with other living cells wanting to survive, just like us.

We’re surrounded by viruses and bacteria – billions and billions of them.

They even live IN us, they’re PART of us.

Like, there are more bacteria in our mouths than there are people on Earth.

They need to be there too. To aid digestion. To feed off all the gunge that could otherwise make us ill. To fight off harmful intruders. Basically for our own good.

That’s not to say that you shouldn’t clean your teeth.

But as you already know, it won’t kill you if you don’t.

In fact, weirdly, it could even kill you if you do.

You give it the business with your toothbrush, right? Then you rinse off and put it away till next time.

Clean is dirty

Mistake right there – which could be the death of you.

Because moist surfaces open to the air are exactly what viruses and bacteria need to breed and thrive.

They do the same on your washing-up scourer. And the dish-cloth you dry your plates with. Your bathroom sponge. Your facecloth. Your towel.

The very things you use to clean are the most hazardous threats yet. Premier League germ spreader systems. (Tweet this) More dangerous than you could possibly imagine.

Of course, your five-year-old Bangladeshi kid knows nothing of this.

He’s too busy out with his pals, playing in the open air. Throwing stones, climbing trees, eating dirt. The things that kids do when they’re on their own. All perfectly natural.

Good clean dirt

Building up their immune systems, if you must know.

With good, clean dirt that will one day save their lives. Developing natural resistance and bigging it up. Always with some kind of sniffle or tummy twinge – ever wondered why kids are so snotty-nosed?

That’s normal  everyday tit-for-tat in the microbiology world. The daily trade-off between living organisms. Like cowpox knocks you back with a runny nose, but protects you big time from smallpox.

None of which happens, sitting indoors playing on an X-box. Or socking into chicken nuggets behind centrally-heated double glazing.

So when an ordinary common-or-garden pathogen rocks up – norovirus, say, or campylobacter – you’ve got no defence. Both give you gastroenteritis – queasy tummy, the runs, heaving your guts out.

No cast-iron stomach for you, you didn’t chomp mud when you were five.

OK, so we’re at hazard. Our antibiotics are tits up, and our immune systems have gone for a ball of chalk.

Yeah, we could take our chances and maybe die.

Or we could strike back.

Once we’ve got an infection, it’s more or less up to our own bodies to fight it off.
If we’re dirty enough, we can beat even Ebola – the upside of why some people survive.

Risky though. Better to sidestep altogether and not take chances in the first place. You can’t get infected if there’s no germs to infect.

We have a defence

Which is why sterilising everything is so effective. Especially our living space when we’re indoors. There might be sick people around, but their germs don’t have to linger for the rest of us to catch.

Blitz the place with hydrogen peroxide mist and that’s exactly what happens.

Germs don’t escape, they’re annihilated where they are, their cell structure ripped to shreds by oxidisation.

Twenty minutes, and we’re safe – whether antibiotics or our immune systems work, or not.

That easy, huh?

See! We’re not as badly off as the doom-mongers say we are.

NHS vs TB: winning the war against the world’s oldest killer

Disaster Man
TB might be deadly,
but we can still win

Bad things don’t get much badder.

So bad that London is the recognised TB capital of Europe – the second most common cause of death world-wide after HIV/AIDS.

Consumption it used to be called. The wasting disease of the poor in Dickensian times.

But TB’s been around a hell of a lot longer than that.

Curse of the ancients

It tops the Who’s Who of killer diseases back to biblical times and beyond: tuberculosis (TB), leprosy, cholera, smallpox, rabies, malaria, pneumonia, influenza, measles and the Black Plague.

In fact tubercular decay has been found in the spines of Egyptian mummies from 3000 BC.

It’s the longest-running bacteria war in the history of humanity.

But it’s one we can win in nearly every case. Even for those so down on their luck the only way forward seems like feet-first.

The anti-TB hit team

You may not have heard of Find&Treat – another team of NHS heroes who work nationwide, fighting TB for those who need it most – homeless people, drug abusers, alcoholics, helpless migrants and ex-cons.

No, they’re not a Halloween outfit. They’re dedicated professionals – out there with mobile X-ray units day and night to locate the 10,000 sufferers every year with confirmed TB.

It’s no surprise it’s the disease of the poor.

We all of us interact with bacteria everyday – some good, some bad – a miraculous balance held in check by our immune systems.

But things work against you when you’re a have-not.

Not enough food, not enough liquids, no defence against the cold, zero chance to keep yourself clean.

Any one of those can throw the body out of balance.

Next thing, the cough that spells the end – unspeakable stuff in your spit, very often blood.

Except it’s fixable with drugs and proper care.

TB can be beaten (Tweet this)

Streptomycin in combination with others to get round antibiotic resistance – bedaquiline and delamanid and many others – a vital defence against MDR-TB (multiple drug-resistant tuberculosis).

And if that doesn’t work, there’s surgery – removing fluid-filled bullae from the lungs – simultaneously reducing the number of bacteria and increasing drug-exposure to the remainder. Take that, you murderous scum.

But getting well is not easy – especially if you’re sleeping rough and living on the streets.

Which is where the Peers come in – recovered TB patients who know how hard it is to find support. So they give it themselves in advice and encouragement, persuading the homeless to get checked and receive treatment.

Been there, done that, got better.

Nasty though, TB. Highly contagious.

Remember “cough and sneezes spread diseases” – the 1942 slogan to counter people pulling sickies?

It’s airborne and deadly, easily picked up by anyone, particularly in cities – crowded places where people live and breathe on top of each other.

Except that’s preventable too.

TB prevention

As a bacteria, TB can be clobbered by hydrogen peroxide spray. Lingering germs in the air are destroyed as they swirl around – oxidised to shreds so their individual cells rip apart.

You can’t stop a sneeze passing the bacteria on, but you can sterilise the room in which a sufferer has been – all viruses and bacteria destroyed with 99.9999% efficiency.

TB capital of Europe?

London has faced worse things – and is still winning.

Let those folk who bad-mouth the NHS think on that – next time they start coughing.

Think nobody cares? How about ambulance crews?

Lizzy Pickup
Paramedic Lizzy Pickup pulled an unconscious mum from a blazing house (with thanks to Gazette Live)

Time to review your belief in saints.

There’s two in your rear-view mirror, coming up fast – Mercedes Sprinter, blue lights flashing.

On a shout for some bloke who fell down the stairs at a stag do. Broken collar-bone, nasty head gash, heavy bruises and unconscious.

Real live care

Or they could be on the way to your place – your wife can’t breathe and she’s having a panic attack.

Real people with professional skills and bucket-loads of a quality no-one else has got. (Tweet this)

Compassion.

The only people in the world who give you time when others turn away.

Well think about it.

Two in the morning, who do you call?

Your Doc doesn’t do call-outs any more. The help-lines don’t understand you – or you can’t understand them. Online stuff is confusing – and you’re getting more worried by the second.

Thank goodness

Then the knock at the door.

Relief, reassurance, confidence.

Solid professionals with an easy feel.

World-class paramedics who know what they’re doing.

Strangers who do more to help you than the rest of the world combined.

Because two in the morning is a very scary place when things go wrong.

You need your Mum. You need your Dad. You need a doctor, medicine, encouragement, help.

And here’s two of them all in green – all these things and more.

Ordinary people like the rest of us. But with a caring feel and commitment  no-one could ever teach – kind-heartedness straight from the soul.

Yes, they’re quick. But they take their time. Rushing a patient creates problems.
You’re panicky, your wife can’t talk – so the first thing they get is garbled, disjointed, and not very accurate.

They do the checks – blood pressure, temperature, breathing. Step One, assess and stabilise.

They put her on oxygen, wrap her in a blanket – why didn’t you think of that?

Steady does it

Will they take her to hospital?

Quiet voices, steady, calming.

Colour in her cheeks now, no more gasping for air.

They take their time, but the clock is ticking. There’s a radio alert, tense, urgent.

Your wife smiles. You know the signs. Time to put the kettle on.

The two saints decline – the blonde girl with the pony tail, younger than your daughter. And the dark one with rosy cheeks.

So grown-up, but just kids – looking after the whole world.

Your wife gets tablets and a shot. More like herself and breathing easy. Back to bed, less distressing than A&E.

The two saints go. Twenty minutes and the world returns to normal.

Back to confidence. Back to being you.

They leave without lights or siren. Another ten hours ahead of them before they’re off shift.

The only people in the whole world who care when nobody else does. (Tweet this)

Harder worked than any of us will ever be. More stretched, more challenged. Yet by some miracle, totally dedicated to looking after you and me.

Think about that next time some wazzock bad-mouths them on TV.

They’ll help him too, if he needs it.

Nice to believe in human goodness again.

Je suis Charlie, every day of your life

French flag eye
The French inspiration –
eyes open, always watchful

Je suis Charlie, three little words.

Overnight it’s become the world’s rally against terrorism of any kind, anywhere. An uplifting tribute to ordinary French people – and a defiant rejection of brutality, intolerance and violence.

If those big deals Blair and Bush had dared to show half such courage after 9/11, we would not face the senseless conflict that we do today.

Inspired vigilance

Thank you France, if only we can be as strong as you.

Because threats by fanatics are not the only terrorism we face.

Just as evil as the atrocities in Paris is the daily slaughter of innocent people overpowered by Ebola – and the invisible conflicts that each of us face at every moment against viruses and bacteria.

In Paris, ordinary people just like us were cut down in a hail of bullets.

But spare a thought for those in hospital, often in pain and anguish, slowly succumbing to disease or infection that nobody wanted or provoked.

It might not look like it, but the world is a dangerous place.

Thanks to the stupidities of former leaders – who wilfully exploded the world into the dissension it faces today – a terrorist’s bullet could hit any one of us, at any minute.

But through our own lack of watchfulness, a germ could strike us down dead just as effectively.

Invisible terrorists

All it takes is a lapse in hygiene habits, not washing hands or carelessness with food – and we are in trouble.

And germs are not like fanatics. They are everywhere, all the time – billions and billions of them surrounding every one of us.

The slightest little mistake or accident – even a paper cut – is all they need to invade our bodies and take us down.

And no, doctors and medicine can’t always fix it.

Because, horror of horrors, antibiotics don’t always work any more. Fifty years of relying on them for everything have given germs the chance to develop resistance.

You might go into hospital for a hernia operation, only to die from MRSA – methicillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus – one of the most deadly hospital acquired infections.

Of course, yes, it should never happen, you should always be safe in medical care.

Ever-present danger

But operations make people vulnerable – so many defenceless bodies, all in one place – all with cuts and wounds for germs to get in and do their dirty work. So you could be more at risk in hospital than anywhere else.

It shouldn’t happen, but it does – and what can the poor medics do when the antibiotic applied to control infection comes up against a germ that ignores it?
It’s terrorism, plain and simple. And much more deadly.

Because when a terrorist pulls the trigger, there’s the possibility he can miss.

But germs don’t miss. Once they’re in, they’re in – and it’s up to your own body to fight them. And germs are very efficient at making you die. Plus there’s no secret intelligence service to warn you of their presence, no police or military to protect you.

It’s not all doom and gloom though.

There are more than six billion of us, and we WANT to survive.

Time to up our game

Which makes prevention way better than cure. If we don’t get sick, germs can’t touch us. (Tweet this)

Better to assume they’re always there. That we always need to take precautions.
Washing hands. Being careful of everything we come in contact with. Everything we eat. Everything we breathe.

And sterilising our surroundings, to make doubly sure. Every room we’re in, totally free of harmful pathogens. Nothing in the air. Nothing on any surface. Nothing lurking in cracks or crevices.

Je suis Charlie. We have a lot to thank those wonderful French people for.

Their solidarity and courage is a vivid reminder that we must always be watchful.

A terrorist can strike at any moment. So can a virus or bacteria.

En garde!

NHS rescue: let’s reclaim all norovirus shutdowns

Girl in mask
With all medics flat out busy, who needs norovirus too?

Whoa there, people! A&E in tents, patients brought in by fire engines  – isn’t it time to take down that rotten norovirus?

No, it’s not risky – and yes, it can be done.

Pick up the phone now and chances are good you can get those wards back in action by the end of the day.

Emergency on top of emergency

Because with all hands already at the pump, could anything be more screamingly urgent?

Like last month, Southampton General had eight wards closed – forty beds not available right in the middle of a crisis.

This week it’s Croydon University with three wards shut, another four partially, and 28 staff reporting symptoms.

All it needs is…

OK, let’s not go there.

Sterilised safe

The answer is to sterilise those wards quick with ionised hydrogen peroxide.

If the ward is already shut and patients are out, you can probably claim it back in an hour – all bacteria and viruses gone – 99.9999% germ free, to a Sterility Assurance Level of Log 6.

If the ward is occupied, it can be done in sealed-off sections, doubling up the beds for the 40 odd minutes the stuff needs to work and time to vent out afterwards. Again 99.9999% germ free, to a Sterility Assurance Level of Log 6.

To good to be true?

Ask the team at Salford Royal, where they started using the stuff in the haemotology unit back in 2013.

When the hospital’s record in reducing infection levels became so impressive they earned a special report on the BBC’s Breakfast TV.

Super-oxidiser

So how does ionised hydrogen peroxide work?

An automated dispersal unit about the size of a small wheelie-bin releases a super-fine mist of charged particles finer than water. The mist is boosted with colloidal silver, actively grabbing at bacteria and virus cells – ripping them apart and oxidising their guts out.

Spread is everywhere, treating the total room – the entire air space – as well as under, around and behind all furniture and fittings.

In just seconds it kills all the nasties: MRSA, c. difficile, e. coli and of course norovirus. Ebola too, though you’ve probably got that well isolated.

Twenty minutes and the place is sterile, safe for everyone. (Tweet this)

Useful stuff when you think of these infections and how resistant they’re becoming to antibiotics. Prevention instead of cure.

Because yes, the new discovery of Teixobactin might pull us back from a return to the Dark Ages, but it will still take a while to get here.

Results now, now, now

To get hydrogen peroxide treatment right NOW, the guy with the hot line is Jon Knight on his mobile at 07776 451222.

You’re already heroes, coping with all this – you don’t need a norovirus wipeout, just as you start seeing daylight.

NHS fat-cats make us all sick as dogs

Fist of Money
No wonder you’re not well,
this disease is contagious

In the euphoria of the festive season, you might have missed it.

A telling report that the number of NHS managers earning more than £300,000 a year has doubled, with some pulling down a whopping £620,000.

Obscene amounts of money

Frankly, the idea that ANYONE earns more than a tenth of that is pretty disgusting. And yes, that includes the Prime Minister at £142,500.

Because none of these are your rank-and-file NHS do-ers. They’re not doctors or specialists either, not one of them is involved in the actual practice of making people well.

These are top-level “executives” brought in on the advice of “consultants” – and paid an outlandish fortune for “high calibre” expertise at short notice.

Unhealthy business practice

And “consultant” of course does not mean an expert in the medical sense – but a management consultant, whose only connection to anything vaguely medical might be a thing called a balance “sheet”.

Sad cases, these guys. Even on mega-buck salaries they can’t manage their own lives, often demanding even more.

Put that against nurses and midwives, who have yet to receive the 1% pay rise they were hoping for in 2014.

Yup, you got it. It’s the non-medical side of the NHS that’s soaking up all the money.

So don’t go bad-mouthing A&E departments because they can’t get through the deluge of winter patients needing attention. Go chuck rocks at the managers who failed to provide facilities and resources for them to do their job properly.

Do they doctor the books too?

Gross mismanagement? You better believe it.

This item from The Telegraph is just the tip of the iceberg: ‘Medway Foundation Trust, recently named as having one of the worst A&Es in the country according to patient surveys, paid Nigel Beverley rates of £1,740 a day until he left just before an inspection found A&E in a “state of crisis”‘.

Unfortunate isn’t it, that GBH is against the law?

Except such monsters have no place in hospitals, or anywhere near one.

The only rightful place for them is buried under the sewage of their own making.