Junior doctors used to be saints… now they’re no better than the rail union bullies
Sun columnist says we should fire all the young doctors calling for a strike, ahead of their five-day walkout on Monday
IN the old days I suspect there could be no prouder boast from a mum to her best friend than that their daughter/son was going to train to be a doctor.
Would that be true today? Absolutely not. And would that same friend have to bite their tongue to stop saying: “Do they plan to care for the sick or make them suffer?”
It’s not so long ago that a combination of academic brilliance and natural humanity almost gave the young medics a saintly aura.
In the light of the five-day junior doctors’ strike starting on Monday week, you can forget all that.
They are no better, and in some ways a lot worse, than the guards on Southern Railway who have used innocent commuters to fight their industrial battles.
They are prepared to throw the sick under the bus — and then refuse to treat them — so they can have weekends off.
I had the misfortune of listening to a disingenuous t***er called Mark Porter, of the British Medical Association, on Radio 4’s Today programme as he tried and failed to bat away decent questioning from presenter Nick Robinson.
Just like a Seventies union leader, he refused to answer three times how close the vote was within the BMA to back the strike.
It appears it was 16-14, with consultants and GPs against but with the kill-the-patients Lefties carrying the day.
Uniquely, I do not blame Health Secretary Jeremy Hunt for any of this. He wants the best for patients.
The young medics want the worst. I hate them. My solution? We should fire all the young doctors who voted for a strike — I would come in on a Sunday to do it personally.
Instead, we should offer the contracts to the young and ambitious from around the world. Highly skilled migrants would always be welcome in my world.
This is Mrs May’s miners moment. Be a good test.
Forget Hippocratic, it’s hypocritic oath. They don’t give a stuff about the sick.
My winners of the gold cups
IN a little-reported decision the British Horse Racing Authority have banned for life reality show munters Katie Salmon and Jessica Hayes from ever going to a racecourse again after they produced their breasts at the Cheltenham Festival.
How absurd. Cheltenham is hardly a religious gathering. It’s simply a get- together of folk who failed to make their last meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.
If I were the management at Plumpton racecourse and concerned at the potentially low turnout at their meeting on November 14, I would pay from the marketing budget for Ms Salmon and Ms Hayes to pop out their boobs for the punters.
You would have to build extra turnstiles to cope with the rush.
Fed up with FedEx
I FEEL desperate. Have just heard from a chap in Coventry called Matt Griffiths, who is described as Customer Service Manager UK, that my claim against FedEx for destroying two valuable sculptures I had bought in France (my column, August 11) is to be denied.
Listen to this. Mr Griffiths claims FedEx sent my phone photo of the packaging to their laboratory in Memphis – I suspect Elvis must have done the research – and concluded the inner packaging was not sufficient to cushion the goods.
That’s twaddle. For one of the pieces it took me ten minutes to open the wooden box and free the piece from the packaging it was cased in.
Why didn’t they come to my house where they could inspect it rather than rely on a phone photo?
Further, Mr Griffiths said both packages were handled, through the 600-mile journey, to the “high standard we expect from all packages in our care”.
Really? Where is the proof? How do they know how the packages were treated? Where is the video evidence? Where is the phone photo evidence they demand from their customers?
Has anybody got film of my stuff being dropped from the top of the Eiffel Tower? That’s what would have been needed to do this damage.
They are corporate liars who have set up a scheme to defeat customers with legitimate claims.
In my reply to Mr Griffiths by letter – they deliberately don’t use email to their customers as it would be too easy to push back and distribute – I said the following: “I hope in the months and years ahead I can get even with FedEx. The chances are small but I will do my best.”
My best may not be good enough but I will try.
The Spectator Book of Wit, Humour and Mischief
I RATHER like The Spectator, its ubiquitous editor Fraser Nelson and the fact they invite me to free nosh at their political lunches.
So I am happy to repay their largesse by plugging their very funny The Spectator Book of Wit, Humour and Mischief.
Their best story tells how Denis Thatcher once boarded a train with a carriage reserved for a psychiatric hospital outing.
He sat down until patients boarded at Reading and the nurse started to count his group. “One, two, three, four . . . ” he began before reaching Thatcher. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m the Prime Minister’s husband,” Thatcher replied. “Six, seven, eight, nine . . . ” the nurse continued without pausing for breath.
Radio's funniest five minutes
Radio's funniest five minutes
WITHOUT doubt the funniest five minutes I have ever heard on radio – even allowing for I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue – came on Wednesday with Dean Saunders telling his story on talkSPORT of the time a clearly p***ed Brian Clough tried to sign him up for Nottingham Forest.
An absolute classic. Try to track it down. Failing that, talkSPORT should simply run it again.
I doubt if anything will ever top that.
Send your saving stories
HOW many times have I said loyalty doesn’t pay?
Column reader David Jones had been with Barclays for a decade or more but when his home insurance renewal turned up he thought it too high and went to aspokesmansaid.com and switched to Swinton, saving £271.
The same went for reader Gerry Ballya, who received a car renewal insurance of £303 but switched to RAC for £171 and saved a handy £142.
You can have a decent night out on that.
Love your saving stories, especially on energy. It would help if you included geography.
Please send them to [email protected].
Curse of the Brit managers
IF YOU want to have a losing Premier League team, simply hire a British manager.
The table shows that four of the bottom five are run by one of our own. Stoke (Mark Hughes) Bournemouth (Eddie Howe) Crystal Palace (Alan Pardew) and Sunderland (David Moyes).
And were you a fan of the other three Brit-run clubs of West Brom, Hull or Burnley you might not be sleeping that well right now.
Do remind me. What nationality is that bloke Sam Allardyce?
Enterprise car rental's dodgy dealings
Bad news for them – I have been contacted by an insider who has spilled the beans on how they were forced to pay £10,000 back to a Government department for fiddling petrol fill-up charges.
Will tell all in Monday’s column.
MESSAGE FROM OUTER SPACE
I HAVE become the first journalist to hear the mysterious message from the star HD 164595, thought to be 94 light years away and picked up by a Russian telescope in the foothills of the Caucasus last year.
The alien simply said: “Do tell us it’s not true that Jeremy Corbyn has been re-elected.”
Punnies
COFFEE shop in Isleworth, West London – Daily Grind.
Window cleaner in Southport, Lancs – See Through.
Slogan for marquee company in Ilkeston, Derbys – Experts in Outer Spaces.
Used clothes shop in Worcester – Exchange and Smart.
Carpet and rugs company in Carlisle – Fred Bear. S
ewing- machine shop in Worthing, West Sussex – Bobbin’ Along.
Horse transporter in Stanley, Co. Durham – Neigh Bother.
Steakhouse in Blackpool – Meat and Greet.
Do love the punnies. Please send more of them to kelvin@the-sun.co.uk