More comfortable in his skin.

 The contrast between Keir Starmer and Andy Burnham, couldn’t be more stark. Keir Starmer, was autistic and a very poor communicator, Burnham on the other hand is - comfortable in his skin. On Monday evening he did his first major interview with Laura Kuenssberg for the BBC and Panorama. It was a tour de horizon. Despite the obvious pressure to come up with easy and popular decisions, he resisted the temptation. If he continues like this then the future looks more promising - than it did under Starmer only a week ago. 

Social care.

 The bete noire of the NHS is social care. It could eventually bankrupt the system. It’s bedevilled all previous governments to address this social problem. At long last - perhaps Andy Burnham will sort it out? Most families are exposed to this terrible medical and social problem of dementia and its consequences. The prime minister’s own father is in a care home with the disease. No time to waste - let’s get on with it. 

The post code lottery and life expectancy.

 In The Times On Monday a piece was published - on the vexed issue of the stark inequality between longevity and your post code. If you are lucky enough to live in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, you have won first prize in the lottery for life expectancy. If on the other hand you had the distinct disadvantage of being born and growing up in for example Blackpool - the chances of making it into the educated middle classes is practically zero The town of Blackpool, has over many generations been the refuge for impoverished southern Irish families, seeking a better life in England. The research had established a strong correlation, between the Irish immigrants and generations of overt poverty. Whether that is in occupation, school results, poor general health, excessive smoking and drinking, sexual and physical abuse, obesity, too much drug abuse and much criminal behaviour. In addition they considered the DNA markers of this indigenous Blackpool population, having its roots in Southern Ireland. So chronic generations of serious deprivation over time. 

All in all therefore you got the - least possibility of escaping this chronic deprivation. Moreover, you will die 20 years earlier than the person born and raised in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea. This outrageous fact of 20 years of life stolen from you because of your post code. 

Some 53 years ago a seminal report was published by the charity the National Children’s Bureau in 1973. It was entitled Born to Fail. Essentially the hypothesis was that - children were born to fail, because of the social and economic conditions of their childhood. It was therefore almost impossible to improve your chances of escape. This book had a profound effect on social policy thinking at the time and became a - touchstone book. The tragedy is of course is that so little has changed since 1973. The dice is still loaded against them and it would take a Herculean effort to get away. So whole generations of children will continue to live in this social milieu that will blight their collective lives and longevity. 

Going to hospital today for only the third time in 83 years.

 Today will be my third experience of being an inpatient in hospital. The first occasion was when I was about 3 months old in March 1943 for my circumcision. Because of WW2 - there wasn’t space at my local hospital, so the operation was consequently delayed. My mother always said subsequently - ‘I went in a bonny happy baby, but came home sad and distressed’. Under normal circumstances and in particular in the Jewish faith a boy is circumcised at 8 days old. Thereby minimising the unconscious memory of the trauma. The second occasion was for a minor operation for Dupuytren contracture and it went catastrophically wrong and eventually I had the little finger on my right hand amputated and was in hospital for many weeks. The finger had gone gangrenous due to a failure of a doctor, not the surgeon. I decided to go privately, thinking it would save time and at my convenience. How wrong can you be? Moreover the surgeon was an eminent specialist Orthopaedic surgeon at a recommended private hospital in St John’s Wood, London. So today - hopefully things will be - more successful and not as catastrophic as my two other visits have been. Today is for Laser therapy for my enlarged prostate. No wonder I feel anxious. 

 

Friends and friendship.

 I often quote Shakespeare from his play Hamlet - ‘those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel’ Act 1 Scene 3. On Saturday morning I met up with two of my oldest friends for breakfast at Simpson’s in The Strand. We have known each other from July 1971. One was a neighbour in West Hampstead and the other a student with me at the London School of Economics. So much water has passed under the bridge since our first meetings. Interestingly we all eventually trained as psychoanalytic psychotherapist or as Jungian analytic psychologist. We are all either in our late seventies or mid-eighties. Time is beginning to take its toll either through a recent stroke, arthritic knees or impending Laser treatment for enlarged prostate. Nevertheless it’s always good to - see each other, like old soldiers reminiscing about battles won or lost. We plan to meet in January - hopefully the three of us, but you never know what - Father Time is planning for you. 

Could there be an autumn general election?

 Is the prime minister Andy Burnham, planning a secret autumn election? If over the summer period, the opinion polls are in his favour, he might just try to catch the other political parties on - the hop. This would then, assuming he wins - give him his own mandate to govern under a new - manifesto of his own making. To my mind this is a sensible strategy and moreover gives him the necessary authority to lead the country - under his own banner. In addition it’s possible the other parties, including Reform might not do as well as they expect. This would then allow for the planning of a two parliaments and giving Burnham the 10 years he talked about the other day. I wouldn’t therefore be surprised if we are back in the polling booths in September, before the winner sets in. 

PYO.

 When I was a child growing up after WW2 in the late fourties’ - you would often see a sigh saying simply PYO. I was very fortunate living on the edge of London in the Garden of England, Kent. It meant Pick Your Own. So I with friends would go along the country lane to the farm with a basket and the farmer would direct us to a particular field. It might be for strawberries, blackberries, gooseberries, apples, pears etc. We would then take the full basket and the farm would weigh it and change us accordingly. Much later in life, I was again living in the depths of the Kent countryside and would take my children to do - what I had done many years before. Sometimes we would go with their cousins and friends. These country pursuits are becoming increasingly - a thing of the past. I mentioned the other day to a person in their mid thirties the PYO sigh and they had no clue what I was talking about. How sad that something so ubiquitous is dying out.