Prostate Cancer - still no screening

Cancer Research UK states that prostate cancer is projected to become the most common cancer by 2030. It’s uncommon in younger men, but ‘the incidence rates rise sharply from around age 50-54’. The NHS says that it ‘can usually be cured if it is treated in its early stages’ — so why is there still no national screening programme for men aged 50+?

 

Link: Prostate Cancer UK, Sledgehammer Fund

Married Couple's Allowance: archaic and unjust

The reported dismay over the government’s plan not to resurrect Married Couple’s Allowance  (MCA) in the imminent budget is puzzling.

Feminists in the UK argued long and hard for married women to be treated independently from their husbands, instead of being viewed as dependents — equivalent to children — even if they earned their own income. Until MCA was finally abolished in 1990, a wife’s income was treated as her spouse's for tax purposes, and reported on his tax return, leaving her no financial privacy from her husband, although he could keep his personal finances secret from her if he so chose. Quite apart from being demeaning, the system was open to abuse by a profligate partner.

While far from ideal, MCA made some sense when married women were expected to give up paid employment on marriage to focus instead on bearing and raising children, and were thus dependent — like children — on their husbands. MCA made less and less sense as more and more wives and mothers stayed in work.

MCA was replaced in 2000 by credits related to children: these were intended to offset some of the expenditure involved in bringing up children, while all working-age adults had a basic Personal Tax Allowance unaffected by their marital status.

In a society that entitles both men and women to work, and to be treated as independent adults in tax law, it seems pointless and unjust to return to an archaic system of tax allowances based on the formal union of two people (whatever their gender), and which thus penalizes adults outside that category, as well as the children of adults who may be unmarried for a variety of reasons, including widowhood and divorce.

Where's my Henry?

All I want’s a Henry, small and smiling,
A friendly vacuum cleaner for my floors,
To lift the fluff up from the kitchen tiling,
Manoeuvre round the table legs and doors.
Light enough to manage on the staircase,
Compact enough to fit under the stairs,
Well-rated as efficient (it won first place,
With suction ample for the dust and hairs).

I placed an order for a Henry cleaner
Last weekend, and paid more for ‘Superspeed’
With Amazon (the final price still keener),
Deliv’ry Monday morning guaranteed.
I stayed in Monday, all anticipation,
Intent to get the cleaning off the blocks;
But nothing came. I rang: no information…
Then they confessed: the wrong van had my box—

But it was labelled, so there’d be no barrier
In sending Henry on: and DPD
Were said to be a reputable carrier;
My missing pack would soon be here with me.
No. They insisted there had been no answer
(So why not leave a ‘out’ card in that case?),
Then the address was wrong (this man’s a chancer),
And then that there was no sign of my place!

The order was refunded without question,
I tried again: high cost, but problem solved,
And time in hand to beat the Yule congestion—
If only DPD’d not been involved…
Somewhere out there’s a Henry with my name on,
All poised and ready to spruce up my pad—
I need him here. I hate to pile the blame on,
But DPD, it really is too bad.

No Such Address (The DPD Song)

O DPD, dear DPD,
Why can’t you get my stuff to me?
My house was built in ’53
(or thereabouts): the maps agree
It’s there: why can’t your driver see?
It’s on the right. Or try the G.
P. S. to trek successfully
from there to CV23.

O DPD, sort out your mail,
I click the link to no avail,
The lead is false, a broken trail:
No tracking here, no Holy Grail.
I paid in full and on the nail,
But twice this week an epic fail—
Excuses have grown very stale.
It really is a sorry tale.

Where are the solutions?

My recent comments on the NHS preceded by a day the news that the NHS watchdog, the Care Quality Commission, has identified a failure of basic care for the elderly in 25% of hospitals. This is unlikely to be a surprise to anyone; I commented in September 2009 on a Patients Association report that found that many nurses clearly didn't feel that nursing, notably of the elderly, was among their duties or responsibilities.

It's appalling that, eighteen months later, this is still an issue; what's horrific is that this report seems to offer no intelligent or constructive solutions to the problem. Where are the recommendations for addressing the issue? For retraining, even disciplining, neglectful staff? For restructuring over-large wards and unclear hierarchies to make sure that patients are at the heart of activities and that someone is responsible for making sure they remain the central focus? For employing permanent staff who have commitment to their job and workplace, a sense of personal investment and responsibility, instead of relying on an ever-changing roster of agency nurses who have neither? For getting nurses in amongst the beds and patients, and away from the clutch around the ward's desk, far away from the patients — a too-frequent sight in many hospitals?

The CQC's mission statement is to "make sure that people get better care" and they announce:

We do this by:

• encouraging improvement across health and adult social care
• putting people first and standing up for their rights
• acting quickly to remedy bad practice
• gathering and using knowledge and expertise, and working with others.

Far from "encouraging improvement" and "working with others", however, the only solutions the CDC seems able to offer are the threat of fines, prosecutions and ward closures — who on earth will that benefit?

Speak clearly and listen well

My mother, an intelligent and articulate octogenarian, has recently been diagnosed with cancer. This takes the family into experiences that are indeterminate, unfamiliar and unknown; none of us has a medical or nursing background; we are uncertain what to expect both from the disease itself and from the treatments offered. The NHS and support services have been active — but sometimes less than helpful, and not always inclined to listen.

My mother's initial endoscopy proved a difficult experience, not simply because it is an unpleasant procedure, but because the staff simply didn't listen. My mother is completely deaf in her right ear, and explained this carefully when the nurses told her she would need to lie on her left side during the procedure. Unfortunately, the staff ignored this information and continually spoke to my mother as they carried out the endoscopy, presumably attempting to give instructions and perhaps also offering advice and comfort — my mother had no way of knowing. Unfortunately, the diagnostician hadn't listened either: my mother didn't realize he had spoken to her at all, and she and her GP both had a shock during an appointment the following week when the GP discovered my mother was still unaware that cancer had been detected…

Another issue is the use of euphemisms. My mother has to have a second endoscopy to have a stent fitted. The MacMillan nurse has explained the procedure to my mother and, in a separate conversation, to me; but it wasn't until this morning, when I was attempting to grasp what would happen, and what care would be needed, in the days after the operation, that I finally discovered — and only through dogged questioning — that what the nurse continually referred to as "discomfort" didn't mean "anxiety" or "slight pain", as English dictionaries define the word, but pain at a level requiring prophylactic painkillers. The word "discomfort" implies something on the level of mild, and passing, indigestion; but what is in fact expected is sustained and actual "pain", requiring painkillers to be taken regularly to alleviate, and preferably avoid, it. So why not say so, clearly and unambiguously, instead of using misleading euphemisms that are meaningless to the patient, and thus make the work of the treating practitioners more difficult?

In a similar vein, there is other loaded language to be negotiated. For instance, when the MacMillan nurse says "Ask me anything you want to know", this should not be mistaken for either a general expression of support or a platitude, as it can seem to be. In fact, the sentence means something very specific and very important: "I have information about your condition, but I am not going to offer it to you in case I tell you things you might not want to know or be ready to handle." The problem is that you, whether patient or patient's relation, must work out this translation for yourself — and then work out what information the nurse may have and thus what questions to ask. Whilst the underlying sentiment of "Ask me anything…" is sound, sensible and kind, its construction results in obfuscation, especially for those unused to such cautious and indirect phrasing; and vital questions about proposed or ongoing treatments may thus not be asked at all…

UCU: going for the easy option again

Plus ça change… Members of the University and College Union are soon to vote on industrial action over threats to job security and pensions. What action is being planned? Surprise, surprise: assessment boycotting and strikes — both of which are likely to affect students more than anyone else. Funny how lecturers always choose these kinds of actions. They never suggest systematically withholding publications, although research is constantly declared to be more valuable to universities than teaching and is the source of external funding and kudos… But then, that option would mean lecturers making professional sacrifices, wouldn't it?

What use is training in humanities? (1)

What use is training in humanities? Someone has to teach academic writing to scientists… Final-year science students who don't know, for instance, that bacteria, data and criteria are plural nouns, still less what the singular forms are, have clearly not been properly trained by teachers in their own disciplines.

How-to-spell Rap

Talking of spelling, here's a clever spelling rap. Not suitable for use in schools though…

Spelling and grammar? What next?!

Apparently examiners are to begin (again!) penalizing pupils for bad spelling and grammar - and about time too, though one can't help but wonder, after a generation or so in which many seem never to have been taught any grammar at all, who is going to teach it to them and how competent the examiners will be to assess it…

What does Ofgem do?

Surprise, surprise, gas prices are being hiked again. Funny how the energy companies can respond so quickly to rising wholesale prices when it's apparently so difficult to pass on savings to their customers when prices fall. 

Adam Scorer, of Consumer Focus, points out that "wholesale prices are around half of their peak in 2008, and yet in the same period customers' prices were cut by less than 10%".

Ofgem, supposedly the regulator, says nothing on the matter, and seems likely to do even less. npower's recent refunds to customers who overpaid for gas in 2007 seems to be largely due to the efforts of the self-styled "statutory consumer champion" Consumer Focus, which continued to work with the company when the Ofgem investigation resulted in an average repayment of only £6 to 200,000 customers.

Ofgem's website says that "Protecting consumers is our first priority", and it boasts, in its latest Consumer Bulletin, that it is presently (and ungrammatically) "propos[ing] making energy suppliers give 30 days [sic] notice of price rises". Customers everywhere will feel relieved about that, and doubtless very proud of Ofgem for taking such a stand on their behalf.

It's always good to know these regulators have their priorities sorted — especially since the utilities' retail customers fund them. As Ofgem says, "We recover our costs from the licensed companies we regulate. Licensees are obliged to pay an annual licence fee which is set to cover our costs". Presumably that fee is ultimately added into the utility bills…

Health and Safety - even madder than you imagined

Council workers employed by Tower Hamlets Homes apparently thought they were following heath and safety advice issued by the Fire Brigade when they went on a spree removing washing lines, hanging baskets, doormats, bicycles and security gates. They were halted by a nun, Sister Christine Frost, who pointed out that local yobs were far more pressing a problem.

The council must have realized in advance that its actions would not be popular, as it arranged for police officers to accompany its workforce. Residents understandably considered this a "heavy-handed" approach (and, to add insult to injury, presumably had to pay for the officers out of their Council Tax). 

Housing CEO Jonathan Gregory promised that commonsense would be applied in the future. Why not apply it in the first place?

Amazing that any borough council in these penny-pinching days has the time and money to waste in this way.

Below the belt?

The BBC News website supplied a strangely ambiguous breadcrumb the other day:
The link led to a report under the headline:
This still doesn't entirely clarify the situation. Someone at the Beeb obviously realized that the headline was not entirely clear. By the next day, it had been changed to:
which is an improvement, though it's still not beyond doubt whose offensive weapon he was using…

For the curious, it turns out that
But why did she wait so long?

Doubletake

Hard to believe that anyone could create this headline by accident:

From peterboroughtoday.com, 17 December 2009

The gravy is just as thick 35 years on

While Ed O'Brien of Radiohead is undoubtedly right in his assessment that the money-driven music industry is stifling artists' creativity and the fun that so often adds an edge to it, it's hardly news, is it? Pink Floyd highlighted the same issue 35 years ago in their seminal Wish You Were Here (1975), notably on the track Have A Cigar:

   Come in here, dear boy, have a cigar.
   You're gonna go far, fly high,
   You're never gonna die, you're gonna make it if you try
   They're gonna love you.
   Well I've always had a deep respect, and I mean that most sincerely.
   The band is just fantastic, that is really what I think.
   Oh by the way, which one's Pink?
   And did we tell you the name of the game, boy?
   We call it Riding the Gravy Train.
   We're just knocked out.
   We heard about the sell out.
   You gotta get an album out,
   You owe it to the people. We're so happy we can hardly count.
   Everybody else is just green, have you seen the chart?
   It's a helluva start, it could be made into a monster
   If we all pull together as a team.
   And did we tell you the name of the game, boy?
   We call it Riding the Gravy Train.

The particularly relevant extract is, of course, "We're so happy we can hardly count", the theme song of bloodless, souless, money-grubbing accountants everywhere… The sad, if utterly unsurprising, thing is that the music industry took no notice of Pink Floyd. Accountants have a really boring job: they certainly aren't interested in anyone else enjoying theirs — quite the opposite, in fact: to them it's frivolous and time-equals-money-wasting — but they do have an enormous interest in filling the corporation's coffers. (Though to be fair, it's not often you hear rock 'n' pop stars complaining that their earnings are too high, either.)

So good luck to Ed O'Brien's campaign, but don't hold out for any changes. The love of gravy still rules the entertainment world.

The ultimate inclusivity

Warwick University's Arts Centre takes inclusivity very seriously:

Kamikaze cyclists

Why do so many cyclists think that wearing florescent jackets means they don't need to show front or back lights on their bikes, even on completely unlit country roads well before daylight?

It's a good thing that more people are taking up this climate-friendly form of transport, but cutting out the lights is a carbon-neutral step too far, and one which may well end up in a sudden and messy death.

Goodbye, Cadbury

Cadbury's board of directors has now advised shareholders to accept Kraft's offer for the company.

The offer wasn't solicited, wasn't wanted, is likely to lead to redundancies and the transfer abroad of production — and more than that, Kraft doesn't actually have the money to pay for it: the corporation will have to borrow £7bn ($11.5bn) to finance the deal.

Irene Rosenfeld, chairman and CEO of Kraft Foods, announced: "We have great respect for Cadbury's brands, heritage and people. We believe they will thrive as part of Kraft Foods."

This implies that Cadbury wasn't already thriving (and that Kraft is, which its inability to pay for what it's putting on the sweetshop counter underlines). But Cadbury was doing fine: despite the recession, the company reported a very respectable increase in profits in 2008 and a promising outlook, although there were already plans to close its Keynsham factory as part of a cost-cutting exercise. (Kraft has apparently promised to save the factory, but not in writing; it is notable that Kraft is presently closing some of its own factories.)

Why are corporations — and particularly those that don't actually have the available funds — allowed to make hostile takeover bids? Can no-one control these corporate pit-bulls?

Isn't it about time western governments, particularly those in the UK and USA, did something about corporate greed and obesity? About showing some consideration for employees whose labour goes a long way towards bringing in the profits? Directors of bloated corporations care only about profits and units, whether products, machinery or employees: they're all numbers.

The Cadbury brothers were famous for the treatment of their employees. Right now, they must be spinning in their graves.


UPDATE, 9 February

Goodbye, Breakfast with Wogan

Terry Wogan does his last breakfast show tomorrow: the end of en era.

Wogan's brand of broadcasting is unique. Yes, other presenters interact with newsreaders, producers and traffic news announcers, but no-one else manages to include the listener, who can be made to feel with other shows like an eavesdropper on a private conversation. Yes, other presenters read out listeners' comments, but Wogan's constant self-deprecation and his delight at his loving audience's mock-insults is a far cry from those who select only the fawning messages — Steve Wright in particular clearly adores reading out the words "I love your show".

Wogan's very voice sets him apart from the younger broadcasters: rich, deep, warm, ( Radio 2's more recent male presenters have voices that are lighter, higher, less distinct from each other.)

Wogan has managed to keep the spirit of old-fashioned and traditional British humour fresh, alive and kicking — double entendres, rhymes built up then deflected at the last moment, jokes that sail very close to the wind indeed… Not entirely clean fun, but innocently mucky, introducing a particular kind of humour to younger audiences who have no idea who the Lord Chamberlain was nor what machinations writers went through to avoid his blue pencil.

Wogan isn't retiring completely — he starts a new show on Sundays from February — but the morning commute won't be the same again. The laughs and the thought-provoking comments, the fun and the sense of belonging to a community, being "in" with the in-jokes, even if you haven't tuned in for weeks: all of that will be history from tomorrow, leaving only the bittersweetness of nostagia.

Wogan set an unmatchable standard and will leave a gap that cannot be filled.

Thanks, Terry, for making mornings something to look forward to.

No room for doubt

From the Rugby Review, w/c 5 November 2009:

So, let's be absolutely clear: they definitely want a woman, then?