Health or Money?
Why I love the NHS
There are many aspects of our world that I don’t understand.
Normally this blog would just be about living with autism, and I’d use that sentence to lead into a piece about how my autism impacts on my appreciation of our glorious planet and the neurotypical nature of… well… everything.
Today though, this isn’t the cause of my confusion. However, it does impact on my fellow autists from across the pond. I write todays entry with empathy and solidarity mixed with bemusement.
US Healthcare. What the hell guys?
I come from a country where I benefit massively from the “socialised” model of healthcare, and I really struggle to understand why y’all haven’t revolted against those in power who deny this to you. I mean, we tried to tax your tea and you went batshit.
Until 1948, people in my country had to pay for healthcare just like you do in the US. So, what happened to change this?
From the earliest days of the 20th century, politicians had discussed how we could address the health of the nation, particularly the poorest who also formed the nation’s workforce. Nothing much actually changed as a consequence of these early conversations; however, it did prompt a number of ideas to be put forward by interested parties.
It was during the second world war though that things really changed. Here we were, “our darkest hour,” fighting against fascism whilst facing invasion and being bombed on a daily basis… looking towards a better future.
The war itself had an impact on our thinking. In order to care for those injured by enemy action, a state-run system of emergency hospitals was created, enabling people to gain their treatment in whichever hospital was available. In 1942, a review was undertaken leading to the “Beveridge Report” and in 1944 a paper was put before Parliament which proposed a service founded on three core principles, each of these remains today and are the closest thing we have to a written constitution.
· Services were to be provided free at the point of use.
· Services were to be financed from central taxation.
· Everyone was eligible for care (even people temporarily resident or visiting the country).
Ground-breaking. On 5th July 1948, following a few tweaks to the overall model, the end of the war, and a change of government in 1945 (yes, Churchill was ousted in a General Election immediately after we’d beaten the Germans and were still fighting Japan!), the National Health Act came into force.
This was a country on its collective arse. Massively in debt, having just survived five years of warfare, needing to rebuild huge swathes of our infrastructure which had been destroyed by German bombs and yet… and yet… with the foresight to recognise that the health of the entire population was vital to our future. The Greatest Generation performed their second greatest act.
I’m never going to claim that the past 74 years haven’t been turbulent. The NHS is still used as a political football, is often underfunded, and expected to deliver against some unrealistic expectations. But it’s still here, and generally we love it. But why?
Well consider my situation.
I am autistic and I have a number of other health conditions. In the past two years I have had numerous appointments with my general practitioner, a specialist assessment for autism and three items of medication daily. My partner has similar interactions with our primary care physician, an x-ray, and consultation with a cardiologist. We’ve both had covid and flu vaccinations. My daughter has had orthodontic treatment. My son’s partner has been through pregnancy and given birth. My father has had brain surgery. The total cost of this, as we access the services, has been a grand total of… Zero Pounds. Na-da.
We’ve paid nothing. At no point have we had to consider whether we could afford to be treated for our ills.
I really cannot understand how it must feel for that to be part of the equation — I’m ill, I need healthcare, but can I afford it, does my insurance cover it?
Sure, I pay for this through my taxation, along with most other service provided by the government of the day — law enforcement, national security, education etc. On average the UK Government spends £3,000 per person, per year, on healthcare. The average spend per person in the US is… £8,000.
Sometimes I have to wait for care, but only if it’s routine. My father’s emergency brain surgery happened the day after the need was identified. My grandson was delivered on the day he decided to be born. My current wait for accessing my physician is a couple of days (although this varies), I can call an ambulance whenever I feel that I need one and I get my medication free. That last point is due to one of my conditions, if I didn’t qualify for free medication then I’d have paid £350 for a whole year’s worth of my meds. An entire year!
I am aware of this when I read blogs from my American cousins, or I watch the news, and I cry for you all.
What kind of country, or politician, denies that same level reassurance to their population? Who would choose to make “affordability” a factor when you’re unwell?
Come the revolution, those people should be first against the wall.
“Illness is neither an indulgence for which people have to pay, nor an offence for which they should be penalised, but a misfortune the cost of which should be shared by the community.” — Aneurin Bevan
