MH4A: Borderline Personality Disorder - Shame

In May I posted about the prejudice, discrimination and stigma faced by those - mainly women - who are diagnosed or even labelled as BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder)

In June the Glasgow Herald carried a a low-key but powerful article on the prejudice experienced by sufferers of BPD - Borderline Personality Disorder.  Today I carry large extracts from the Herald article with additional comments from me.

"Up to 150,000 Scots suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), according to the SeeMe campaign. Three-quarters are women.

Yet the term is controversial - viewed by many professionals and patients as a "dead-end" diagnosis. Studies have shown that many psychiatrists and psychiatric nurses view it as untreatable.

This is critically important, as those diagnosed with BPD have a hugely increased suicide risk - 50 times greater than the general population, according to one study."

"Untreatable"; "'dead-end' diagnosis" but, as the article goes on to state, BPD is treatable  There's also a very negative slant to "dead-end". No wonder there's prejudice when so-called professionals don't even know there is a treatment.

"The Mental Welfare Commission in Scotland [MWC] has launched an investigation into the recent suicide of a woman in the Highlands who was alleged to have a personality disorder. But the MWC already believes the situation must change. It carried out an investigation following another case in 2003 where a man with a personality disorder, known as Mr G, was left to languish in prison with an "untreatable" personality disorder.

Mr G was discovered to be suffering from a type of dementia, which had gone untreated. His low mood, suicidal thoughts and inappropriate behaviours were disregarded. Even the fact he was now incontinent hadn't prompted the doctors charged with his care to review their diagnosis, until the commission intervened."

Mr G was labelled, left to rot and the professionals either didn't pay enough attention to see his other symptoms or they didn't care about his diagnosis or they were so fixed on his original diagnosis as to be blind to anything else. Whatever the real reason, these people 'shouldn't be within a million miles of the title 'professional'.

Dr Donald Lyons, director of MWC Scotland, says, "The problem with the diagnosis of personality disorder is that it can be used as a way to exclude people from services. Where somebody has that diagnostic label attached to them, mental health professionals can become blinkered to other mental health problems which are going on with that individual."

It's easy to read these words quickly and not realise just how damning they are!  These 'people' are getting away with behaviours the equivalent of which would be deemed unacceptable in a tradesperson. 

"The trouble is that people who are perceived as behaving in difficult or troublesome ways often get this label - and it might be that they are behaving in a troublesome or difficult way because they are actually ill."

Is it really too much too ask that medics would realise this?  Apparently so.  Patients might be "behaving in difficult or troublesome ways" because no-one in the NHS is listening to them.  

Mr G's case showed clearly that evidence of other conditions was sometimes being overlooked, Lyons says, while a BPD diagnosis also appeared to make it difficult for other agencies to get help for their clients from mental health services.

"When we went to see Mr G in prison, the prison mental health records actually contained the information that we needed to think, wait a minute this isn't right - this diagnosis can't explain everything that's happening with this person.' "In the course of examining the case we interviewed a number of health care, social care, homeless agencies and voluntary sector providers and we were often told of the difficulty they experienced in accessing a mental health service where someone was given a diagnosis of personality disorder."

A key word here is "often".  This means that exclusion from services is not a rare occurrence.  Anecdotally, this is a very common experience. 

Now Lyons believes psychiatrists and those in related professions must change their attitude: "A lot of work has to be done to ensure mental health professionals are aware of the possibilities for treatment. You don't just say, personality disorder - as far as mental health services are concerned, case closed, there's nothing we can do'."

Again this is incredibly damning: "must change their attitude".  We who have suffered or witnessed suffering have been shouting this for ages.

Last year Scotland took a lead within the UK by including BPD in a list of mental health conditions professionals are now obliged to approach in a systematic, comprehensive manner as part of NHS strategies to integrate care.

It is important to realise that treatment must be given only when there is a formal diagnosis of BPD.  If a patient isn't diagnosed as BPD but has a label which professionals know is equivalent to BPD treatment can, and will, be denied. 

Some psychiatrists do accept the need for a new approach.

This means that some do not.  In fact, one could argue that "some" refers to a minority. If this is correct, a majority do NOT accept a new approach is needed.

"Fortunately it is now known there is hope for recovery for BPD sufferers ...... .  Approximately 40% of those diagnosed no longer meet the criteria for BPD after five or six years, and recovery rates can be even higher with effective intervention,...."

So there is treatment which is effective but ......

"Despite these discoveries, many patients with BPD still feel they are dismissed as manipulative and beyond help. Challenging behaviours such as self-harming, which have been developed as coping strategies, are not always understood.

Many patients feel they have been written off by medics .......

There is no doubt that behaviours can be difficult but the NHS should be here to help those who suffer but, to its eternal shame, the NHS appears to shun the sufferers.

It will take time for old prejudices to fade and there is an ongoing issue with poor provision of psychological therapies.  Legislation and research alone cannot create the culture change the mental Welfare Commission and tens of thousands of sufferers would like to see.

In its quiet way this is about the most damning part of the article.

What oath have these medical oafs taken? It seems as though it must be along the lines of, "Now that I am qualified to practice I promise to uphold the traditions of medicine and be an arrogant and ignorant sod; I will treat my patients with the disdain in which the profession has always held the general public; my actions will always be in my best interests and rarely in those of my patients; any who question my diagnoses, judgments or opinions or those of my esteemed colleagues will be shunned until the sun stops shining out of my arse."

I'm sorry about my last paragraph.  I became angrier and angrier as I wrote this piece.  The Herald article in its understated style is a classic hatchet job.  My style - when angry -  is a touch less polished.

Poor Taste Picture Post

 

I had intended posting about Borderline Personality Disorder but I'm too tired and with too little time tonight to give the subject the care it deserves.  Hopefully tomorrow. 

Instead I have a post which is neither topical nor in good taste but, hey, what do topicality and good taste have to do with this blog?  Don't answer!

Tonight I took the children and a friend out to a cafe - open until 10 - which we visit infrequently.  For about the last year or so they've had a photo hanging above one of the tables and I've always been tempted to blog about it.  Tonight is that night.  The cafe was really quiet when we were leaving and so with my new - my first- camera-phone I took a photo of the photo on the wall.

 

                                 Photo ex S Luca (Edinburgh)

I'm sorry about the picture quality.  I sort of sneaked the photo quickly but, in case you can't make them out, Tony Blair is on the left and Jack McConnell - at this time Scottish First Minister - at the right front.  The original was taken two days before the elections to the Scottish Parliament.

Every time I see this photo I think, "Would I show this photo if Tony Blair had eaten in my cafe?"  No, I wouldn't.  Mind you, I can't imagine anyone would put up a photo today showing Gordon Brown eating in their cafe - he might not even get in the door.

Now I know you're wondering what's happened to the poor taste I promised you: it's just about to come.

 

If you remove the 2nd "n" from the legend you get a message which would make the photo well worth promoting!

 

Told you it was poor taste.

Good night

Sympathy for Gordon Brown

Yes, I do ...on a personal level. I may be one of only a few (or of only one) but I can't help but feel for him.

His whole life he has dreamt of, has worked towards, has fought and plotted towards, being Prime Minister. He found himself out-manoeuvred by Blair and Mandelson, had to take second place for 13 years and then last year the role was his. He'd made Prime Minister; he had reached his life's goal only to fail and fall so spectacularly. Devastating it must be for him. I'd have to be incredibly cold not to feel for him or anyone in this position.

Politically I have no sympathy. For years I hoped for his succession not because I was a supporter but because he was not Blair and everything he represented. I hoped for a major change but none came.

Now is his biggest test. Can he put the good of the Labour Party above his desires?

Politicians often talk about their party being more important than their future but what we see is the very opposite. There egos are so large, they are so driven that they equate what is good for them as being good for their party.

Now for Brown no reshuffle, no relaunch can save the party under his stewardship. If he fights for his future as Prime Minister he will drag the Labour Party further down. He must not do this. He should put himself at the mercy of his party. If they want him to stand down now he should do so. If they want him to fight an election now he should do so. If they want him to stay until 2010 and then fight an election he should do so. Whatever they want him to do he must do. This way, at least, he will be serving his party and he can leave with some self-respect.

Only if he does his party's bidding will he retain my sympathy.

No More Posts .....

.... on subjects I think are funny:  I don't have any more.  I've given my entire stock.  Also, as I mentioned yesterday, the bottom has fallen out of my blog traffic but I don't know if this has something to do with the start of the English holidays or if it is related to my blog content.

 

.... on personal or family issues other than the well-known problems which Mrs Carr has with NHS Lothian.  Now that my identity is known it is not fair on the family for me to raise any other issue.  With anonymity, doing so is possible but difficult; unfair and impossible without.  I mention this tonight because I would have raised another topic; I wanted to but I cannot.  My only options are to keep a lid on these matters or to open up a new blog which cannot be traced back to me.  This is the first instance where I have a a price to pay for the newspaper article.

Fatso Falls

 

Today (Friday) I've been bemoaning two facts.  Firstly, despite my last two posts (Lightweight etc and Contraceptive etc - each a humorous post - having been well received by some, those posts have coincided with two very low traffic days.  It's almost as though some potential readers knew they wouldn't like the posts before they had seen them.  I may be barking up a gum tree here but .... I have a feeling in my bones.

Secondly, I'd no more stories left.  My entire life and only two stories at which to giggle.  What a sad life to be so short of good stories but it was true.  I'd wracked my brains, but the cupboard was bare.  I had no stories .... but my bucket of cliches was still full.  And then, as though by divine intervention, a story, another true story, a simple story of failure. 

[It's 2 am.  I'm too tired to type. Two hours gone by and not one word done.  Leave until the morning]

"Fatso Falls" sounds as though it's a tourist attraction similar to the Victoria Falls but it isn't.  Not even close. 

I had just returned from Tesco with a small shopping, had put the shopping away and was about to talk broadband deals with elder child.  At last I'm getting round to broadband ...  possibly. 

Anyway we were in the dining room and I sat down on one of the wooden chairs. There was a crack, louder than when the toilet seat split, and the chair did not stop my bum but my bum - and the rest of me - kept moving.... downwards until I was spreadeagled on the floor on top of broken wood. 

Now I know the chairs are quite old and had been repaired a few times but this was uncalled for.  The chair might have had the decency to creak and groan and give me a chance to get off but instant disintegration was its fate and embarrassment was mine.

Do you think there's a message here that I'm a tad too heavy?

Now surely this will be the last of these posts!  There can be no more unless something happens today.

Male Contraceptive: A Sorry Tale

I'm still in the phase in which I'm struggling to find a serious post.  More than this I'm a long long way from writing seriously and so tonight I need to continue to write in a lightweight and lighthearted way.  My last post, Lightweight Posts - But Not This One!, went down well.  How will tonight's true story of a new, or so I think, method; an effective but unreliable method of male contraception be received?  There is only one way to find out.  Take the risk and write.  Fortunately there are no photos.

I'm going back a fair number of years to the time when the first Mrs Carr was on the scene.  This Mrs Carr has no role in the humour of this story other than she was the object of my sexual desires, as I was of hers, and in the end both of us were unfulfilled.

Not long after we married we moved to a house in the country a few miles up a single track road but still close to civilisation.  I loved being in the middle of nowhere where the night sky was black, I loved opening our back door and being in the country and I loved Mrs Carr so incredibly much.

I've just started and I've drifted away from my story.  Now our sex life was conventional but great. After so many years I can't remember any details other than one fateful night.

This night, as always, we were having sex on our bed.  Isn't it strange that I use the f--- word often as a swear word but I can't use it here.  I can't even use "s---"!  What a sensitive soul I am.  The missionary position.  How conventional!  I should say that back then I was a much finer figure of a man than I am today.  Not obese.  Not overweight.  Not a "fat bastard".  Not quite as "lean as a whippet" as Wolfie of Two Wolves mentioned in a comment to an earlier post of mine but slim and fit from playing football and hill-running.

There I go again blethering.  Get back to the story for God's sake.  Sorry!

Right.  There we were, on our bed, missionary position, Mrs Carr may well have peaked once already, I'm not far away, closer, closer

 

and then it happened a...a...g...g...h...h!!!!! 

 

What the fuck was that?  This wasn't a toilet seat cracking.  The wrong part of my anatomy was throbbing!  This was a cat with its claws in my big toe!  Silly bloody cat was trying to jump onto the bed and it was using my big toe as a rope ladder. 

Well, you can imagine that our sex was over.   There was only one part swollen now; my poor big toe. 

Soon we were able to laugh at our misfortune but happy that no more sensitive part was attacked.  Then we realised that we had discovered a new method of contraception.  This method - I know you're there ahead of me but I'm going to state the obvious anyway - we called "catus interruptus".  I know it's obvious; I know  it's crass; I know it's not funny now but it was incredibly funny that night.

Just once did this happen.  Once was enough.  We shut the bloody cat out after this when sex was at all likely.

 

 

Lightweight Posts - But Not This One !

For some time now my posts have been lightweight.  I want a subject I can get my teeth into but I can find none.  Well, it's either that or I'm not motivated enough to find a subject.  I suspect this is the real reason: motivation - or the lack thereof.  I can't be arsed looking.  I want a post to appear on my pc as if by magic but this won't happen.  Guess I'll just have to wait until I come through this phase but while I'm waiting I may as well continue in lightweight  - and tonight in lighthearted  - modes.

Whilst in Oban on holiday we stayed at the Youth Hostel and in less than 1 day the staff must have been dreading our stay.

Within minutes of arriving  - we hadn't even reached our room - we had caused a major hassle.  Rather than traditional keys the Hostel used magnetic stripe cards.  The kids went ahead to open the outside door to the building in which we were to sleep.  "We can't get in!"   Rather than going back to reception, "Let me look" I said foolishly. "Perhaps the card isn't far enough into the lock."  Fool!  I pushed the card until it disappeared inside the lock.  NOW it was time for reception.  The poor lady on duty had to climb in a window and open the door from the inside.  This at least got us in but the main door had to be kept open.  We disappeared to Tesco leaving the lady trying to lift the hidden card out of the lock using an emery "stick".  I shouldn't have doubted her.  All was back to normal when we returned.  Phew!

I think it's safe to say that we were known to the staff.

All went well that night but soon more trouble.  First thing in the morning I was sitting on the toilet and I turned to reach the toilet paper.

CR...A...A...A...A...CK

What the ....  was that?"

Toilet seat split.  

I shouldn't have been surprised because this last year I've had an inflation-busting weight rise of about 15%.  Officially obese, that's me although fat bastard is probably much more appropriate.  Fortunately no part of my anatomy was trapped or damaged and the toilet seat did, at least, retain its functionality.

Downstairs I went, head bowed, face red.  "I've had another accident.  Toilet seat broken.  We're here for a week. What on earth will be happening by then?"  I must admit the staff were very good about it but I'm sure they wondered, as did I, what my next call to them would bring.

I'm pleased to say that the Carr family and the hostel survived the next 6 days without mishap - thankfully.  Somehow, I think the staff were glad to see us reach that milestone.

Late To The Party

Quite often in my blogging career - can you call something a career if it's a hobby and unpaid? - I have struggled with getting the layout just as I wanted it. Yesterday's post was incredibly difficult and I couldn't get what I wanted. Now I have downloaded Microsoft Live Writer which let's one type in WYSIWYG - as in a normal word processor - and so good layout should be much more easily achieved. Lots of you probably use this already but at least I'm at the party now.

To see if this is a good party or not I'll upload another couple of photos. Here goes.

This is a black guillemot. Apparently they're not very common but they were lots of them very close to the Esplanade in Oban nesting in old drainage holes in the sea wall. The inside of their mouths are red but I couldn't get capture this: only managed to capture their red legs.

I didn't realise that I had captured the two tone sea. I saw the cloud squashing down on the island and my aim was simply to capture that. The two tone sky and sea was a bonus.

Now this was really easy to set up; I adjusted the photos to the size I wanted and put the words exactly where I wanted. If this publishes as I see it in front of me then I'll certainly use this software again.

UPDATE: Publishing failed once but the post looks exactly as it did on my screen. The one thing missing is the inability, I think, of adding labels. I'll check that.

UPDATE 2: Blogger labels can be added. They are called "categories". You can even get the software to remind you to add categories to a post. So far, Microsoft Live Writer is fabulous.

Holiday - Pics

A few visitors have asked that I post some photos from our short holiday in Oban. Reluctantly I oblige. I may have a better camera now but I don't have more time or peace nor even the mindset do more than 'point-and-shoot'.

This highlights two of Oban's landmarks:McCaig's Tower or Folly and Oban Distillery, the home of Oban malt whisky - one of the Classic Malt range. Last year I discovered that I used to play football with the now distillery manager - 30 years ago. Unsurprisingly we're both slightly larger than in our heyday.

Iona!






I was sitting only yards from the jetty: a little beach with its turquoise sea. The photo doesn't do the scene justice.

















A view looking down Loch Craignish beyond Ardfern









Twice a day a sea-plane flies to and from Glasgow to Oban bay. This greatly magnified photo shows the 'plane at the start of its take-off.
















These high speed RIBS have become quite popular for tourist trips. This one - which I think was going round the island of Kerrera passed us as we took the ferry from Oban to Colonsay. Again magnified significantly. We were on one last year - great fun.
















As we returned from Colonsay the wake and the sky gave this lovely pattern.





















I always thought that there was something strange about religion. This photo from just outside Iona Abbey confirms my views!































You may wonder why I show these last two photos. Well, after blogging for 16 months and having written screeds about me and Mrs Carr I think it is only fair to introduce you to our children: the older is white and the younger black!!

That's not fair! How could I describe my kids so? Shame on me! I'm having a joke. Really!!


The younger one is white and the elder is black. There I've been honest now!

Debacle: Worth a Visit

In the last few days I've come across a small blog which is definitely worth a visit. Deb at Debacle is also suffering with poor NHS and police service but her blog is much more than simply campaigning. Her last few posts alone (16th to 19th July - excluding a link to me) are worthy of a much wider audience.

Please visit Deb.

You won't regret it.

This lady and her blog are class!

Family Courts and Injustice

Earlier this year I came across an article in The Times by Camilla Cavendish with the headline "British Justice: A Family Ruined - a chilling example of our secret state where a mother and child are forced into hiding." I was so appalled by the story told that I intended to blog about it; I found other articles by Cavendish but, life being life, I never typed a word. Hidden away in my pc, the article would have lain had I not found that just over a week ago The Times launched a campaign - headed by Cavendish - to open up the Family Court's system to scrutiny and so prevent the miscarriages of justice which go unchallenged because of the secrecy under which the proceedings are heard and imposed on the parents which makes them unable to challenge decisions.

Today I wish to highlight the issues by showing one
article in its entirety and with a series of links to other articles by Camilla Cavendish on the family courts.

"British Justice: A Family Ruined - a chilling example of our secret state where a mother and child are forced into hiding."

"Last autumn a small English congregation was rocked by the news that two of its parishioners had fled abroad. A 56-year-old man had helped his pregnant wife to flee from social workers, who had already taken her son into care and were threatening to seize their baby.

Most people had no idea why. For the process that led this couple to such a desperate act was entirely secret. The local authority had warned the mother not to talk to her friends or even her MP. The judge who heard the arguments from social services sat in secret. The open-minded social workers who had initially been assigned to sort out a custody battle between the woman and her previous husband were replaced by others who seemed determined to build a guilty case against her. That is how the secret State operates. A monumental injustice has been perpetrated in this quiet corner of England; our laws are being used to try to cover it up.

I will call this couple Hugh and Sarah. Neither they nor their families have ever been in trouble with the law, as far as I know. Sarah's only fault seems to have been to suffer through a violent and volatile first marriage, which produced a son. When the marriage ended, the boy was taken into temporary foster care for a few months - as a by-product of the marriage breakdown and against her will - while she “sorted her life out” and found them a new home. But even as she cleared every hurdle set by the court, social workers dreamt up new ones. The months dragged by. A psychologist said the boy was suffering terribly in care and was desperate to come home. Sarah's mother and sister, both respected professionals with good incomes, apparently offered to foster or adopt him. The local authority did not even deign to reply.

For a long time, Sarah and her family seem to have played along. At every new hearing they thought that common sense would prevail. But it didn't. The court appeared to blame her for not ending her marriage more quickly, which had put strain on the boy, while social workers seemed to insist that she now build a good relationship with the man she had left. Eventually, she came to believe that the local authority intended to have her son adopted. She also seems to have feared that they would take away her new baby, Hugh's baby, when it was born. One night in September they fled the country with the little boy. When Hugh returned a few days later, to keep his business going and his staff in jobs, he was arrested.

Many people would think this man a hero. Instead, he received a far longer sentence - 16 months for abduction - than many muggers. This kind of sentence might be justified, perhaps, to set an example to others. But the irony of this exemplary sentence is that no one was ever supposed to know the details. (I am treading a legal tightrope writing about it at all.) How could a secret sentence for a secret crime deter anyone?

Sarah's baby has now been born, in hiding. I am told that the language from social services has become hysterical. But if the State was genuinely concerned for these two children, it would have put “wanted” pictures up in every newspaper in Europe.

It won't do that, of course, because to name the woman and her children would be to tear a hole in the fabric of the secret State, a hole we could all see through. I would be able to tell you her side of the story, the child's side of the story. I would be able to tell you every vindictive twist of this saga. And the local authority knows perfectly well how it would look. So silence is maintained.

And very effective it is too. The impotence is the worst thing. The way that perfectly decent individuals are gagged and unable to defend themselves undermines a fundamental principle of British law. I have a court order on my desk that threatens all the main actors in this case with dire consequences if they talk about it to anyone.

Can that really be the way we run justice in a country that was the fount of the rule of law? At the heart of this story is a little boy who was wrenched from the mother he loves, bundled around in foster care and never told why, when she appears to have been perfectly capable of looking after him. When she had relatives who were perfectly capable of doing so. In the meantime, he was becoming more and more troubled and unhappy. To find safety and love, that little boy has had to leave England.

What does that say about our country? The public funds the judges, the courts, the social workers. It deserves to know what they do. That does not mean vilifying all social workers, or defending every parent. But it does mean ending the presumption of guilt that infects so many family court hearings. It does mean asking why certain local authorities seem unable to let go of children whose parents have resolved their difficulties. It does mean knowing how social workers could have got away with failing to return this particular boy, after his mother had met all the criteria set by a judge at the beginning. It is simply unacceptable that social services have put themselves above the law.

We need these people to be named, and to hear in their words what happened. We need to open up the family courts. We need to tear down the wall of secrecy that has forced a decent woman to live as a fugitive, to save her little boy from a life with strangers, used like a pawn in a game of vengeance. Even if the local authority were to drop its case, it is hard to see how Sarah could ever trust them enough to return. At home, for their God-fearing congregation, the question is simple: what justice can ever be done behind closed doors? And in whose name?"

LINKS

Guilty until proved innocent
Family Courts are the B-side of the Law
The Rank Hypocrisy of Family Court Judges
Free the ‘Grandfather One’
British justice A family ruined
Family Justice: the secret state that steals our children
A Conspiracy of Silence
Family Courts: the hidden untouchables
Family Justice: What We Can Do to Protect Our Children
A Moving Response to Our Family Justice Campaign

Can't Keep Away .... Again

Not from blogging this time but from Oban! We were back in Oban yesterday - Thursday - to collect a lovely piece of furniture for Mrs Carr - wish it were mine. Solid bloody wood! Too bloody heavy for my ageing frame to carry! How I envy the eye to see beauty!

Rather than coming home immediately we spent the afternoon walking around the disappointing town centre but there are two businesses I am compelled to mention. I've never done this before: promoting businesses with which, I assure you, I have no connection.

The first is The Chocolate Factory: shop and cafe and chocolate-making. Not only is there a view to die for but they develop and make their own gorgeous chocolates (viewing is possible).

The second is the Richard Childs gallery - Richard is a landscape photographer. There are many well-known photographers with books of landscapes of Scotland but I feel that there is an artistic quality to Richard's work which makes it stand apart from all others. You can see his photos on-line at various sites but these 3 pages are particularly good (1 - two pages; 2 - twelve pages; 3.

If you are ever in Oban visit these two businesses and, if you'll never be there, visit them on-line.

I promise you'll love them both.

MH4A: The Devil's Kitchen and Ian_QT

Our campaign has reached new parts tonight with the publication of an excellent post at The Devils Kitchen by Ian_QT of Question That.

Many thanks, Ian, for your sterling efforts and the additional impetus this will give our campaign.

Bloghounds Target Met Already!

Bloghounds says to its bloggers, "[bloggers] most importantly would make a genuine attempt to link to fellow members at least once a week."

Now I'm not very good at linking to other blogs: newspapers are fine but blogs only rarely. But now once a week! This will be a strain. But things got worse, much worse. The first Bloghounds visit I made was to Blaney's Blarney. (Well that's my one link done for the week! Target met.)

Christ! We couldn't be further apart in politics, content or style. I'll never find a link here. He's far too "in your face". I say "he" but I know nothing of Donal Blaney and given that so much in the blogosphere is not what it seems I guess Blaney could be an apparently genteel old lady sitting at home sipping her tea and hammering away at the keys. For that matter, with my name - Calum Carr, which all readers know is my actual name!? - I could be the father of that well-known comedian / comic / TV personality - and I use these words loosely - Jimmy Carr. No, that's just too far-fetched. Some family secrets one doesn't dare even hint at.

Anyway I digress.

I just couldn't imagine ever finding common ground but ..... wait ...... what's this ..... YES!!! A miracle!! Both of us taking a similar stand on the suggestions that Ireland votes again on the EU Treaty - Donal - a second link in one week - and me.

Doesn't this just go to show that the world has always one surprise left!

Feat of Endurance

Another personal best on this blog on Tuesday! One visitor racked up 40 page views over 99 minutes - many more than anyone previously. Definitely above and beyond!

I won't show their ISP details just in case .....




I can't imagine viewing 40 pages of any blog but 40 pages of this!! And there were more visits today.


Seriously though, whoever you are, I appreciate your being so interested that you took the time to view so much of my writings.

Many thanks.

MH4A: Article - Mrs Carr Asks

I am not ready to respond fully to the article which appeared in The Edinburgh Evening News last week but Mrs Carr has asked me to post now to highlight two areas of major error, one of which grossly overstates a facet of Mrs Carr's medical problems and the other which grossly overstates the help supplied by NHS Lothian.

Firstly, the article states, ".... I [Mrs Carr] had swelling up and down my legs. My liver function was all wrong. I’ll have liver problems for the rest of my life.” and " .... at Christmas in 2006 she had to go to hospital as her organs started to fail."

but

- she will NOT have liver problems for the rest of her life;
- she did NOT have to go to hospital;
- Mrs Carr's organs did NOT start to fail

The correct position is:

- Mrs Carr did have swelling of her legs
- her GP referred her to hospital for routine tests as an outpatient
- the tests showed that Mrs Carr had reversible changes to her liver function
- no more testing has been carried out

We both believe it is vitally important that Mrs Carr's case is stated as accurately as possible. Allowing this error to go uncorrected could reflect badly on Mrs Carr because it might appear that she was exaggerating her problems. At no time has Mrs Carr done so.


Secondly, the article states, "Since her treatment at the Cullen Centre stopped, Janice has received counselling, which she says has managed to keep a lid on their problems, although they have not gone away."

This sentence suggests the NHS has offered and supplied counselling. Nothing could be further from the truth.

- since Mrs Carr's treatment at the Cullen Centre ended she has been offered NOTHING
- the NHS has NOT at any time offered counselling
- the NHS has NOT at any time suggested that Mrs Carr look privately for counselling
- the NHS specifically said that Mrs Carr should NOT seek counselling
- despite this Mrs Carr sought private counselling and this we are funding
- the private counselling is beneficial

Again it is important to reflect the true position of NHS support and this we have tried to do at all times.

Sometime in the next week or so I will respond to the article but these corrections were too important to wait.

Bloghounds and Blogpower

I am now installed as a member of the recently formed Bloghounds but I am retaining membership of the well-established grouping - Blogpower - and I intend to support both groups to the best of my ability.

I hope both groups flourish.

Of course, my blogging will remain unchanged. I know many of you will be disappointed to hear this!! :-)

Can't Keep Away

So much for not posting while on holiday. I'm back again but not posting on NHS. That definitely needs to wait until I have more time.

One more full day and then home again. Not to worry. Today was fabulous - for me anyway. Went on a 5h return ferry trip to Colonsay; one of the Inner Hebrides. Absolutely glorious scenery. Quite blowy but this didn't detract. No photos until I get home - if at all.

I'll fall asleep happy tonight!.

MH4A: Article Published ....... But

Just a very brief post while on holiday. Fuller post will follow on return and when "dead" home pc repaired or replaced.

The long-awaited article has been published. [I hope this link works. I'm on a different pc]. If link fails then check The Edinburgh Evening News for an article on anorexia published 8 July.

Much of the article is true but some key parts are incorrect, some unclear and there is typical NHS spin which paints them as saints who failed because of a difficult patient whereas I know, they themselves know, and those who have read this blog know, that the truth is very very different.

I don't have time to comment on these points now but will do so later - could be some time given holiday and pc problems.

On a much more trivial note, I don't know if I can continue with this blog because the article names me and this blog. Therefore, my anonymity has gone. Posting anything personal now will be very difficult. I need to think about this too.

Last Post ....

until 14 July.

Sorry! I couldn't resist that.

We're off on holiday on Sunday for a week and so there will be no posts. After my splurge of 3 posts on Wednesday I had hoped to post on:

Self-Scanning Checkouts - God, I hate them!!
Childhood Reminiscences 5 - Transport and Travel [Note: This wouldn't be No. 5. but No. 4. Fool!!!!]

but, as usual, my thoughts exceeded my capabilities. The Checkout post may never appear but the Reminiscences certainly will be seen.



Where are we going?

Here are a few photos I took in 1986. We're going to the same place.

See how many you need to identify our destination. I'm sure you'll all find us. Just in case you haven't, right click on the last photo and check the Image Location: buried in there is the place-name.

Well done! See you in a week or so.

From Triumph to Torture: Mohammed Omer

John Pilger reports on Mohammed Omer's journey from Gaza to London, to receive a prize for his journalism, and back to Gaza.

The entire post is reproduced below. Please read on and be shocked.


"Two weeks ago, I presented a young Palestinian, Mohammed Omer, with the 2008 Martha Gellhorn Prize for Journalism. Awarded in memory of the great US war correspondent, the prize goes to journalists who expose establishment propaganda, or "official drivel", as Gellhorn called it. Mohammed shares the prize of £5,000 with Dahr Jamail. At 24, he is the youngest winner. His citation reads: "Every day, he reports from a war zone, where he is also a prisoner. His homeland, Gaza, is surrounded, starved, attacked, forgotten. He is a profoundly humane witness to one of the great injustices of our time. He is the voice of the voiceless." The eldest of eight, Mohammed has seen most of his siblings killed or wounded or maimed. An Israeli bulldozer crushed his home while the family were inside, seriously injuring his mother. And yet, says a former Dutch ambassador, Jan Wijenberg, "he is a moderating voice, urging Palestinian youth not to court hatred but seek peace with Israel".

Getting Mohammed to London to receive his prize was a major diplomatic operation. Israel has perfidious control over Gaza's borders, and only with a Dutch embassy escort was he allowed out. Last Thursday, on his return journey, he was met at the Allenby Bridge crossing (to Jordan) by a Dutch official, who waited outside the Israeli building, unaware Mohammed had been seized by Shin Bet, Israel's infamous security organisation. Mohammed was told to turn off his mobile and remove the battery. He asked if he could call his embassy escort and was told forcefully he could not. A man stood over his luggage, picking through his documents. "Where's the money?" he demanded. Mohammed produced some US dollars. "Where is the English pound you have?"

"I realised," said Mohammed, "he was after the award stipend for the Martha Gellhorn prize. I told him I didn't have it with me. 'You are lying', he said. I was now surrounded by eight Shin Bet officers, all armed. The man called Avi ordered me to take off my clothes. I had already been through an x-ray machine. I stripped down to my underwear and was told to take off everything. When I refused, Avi put his hand on his gun. I began to cry: 'Why are you treating me this way? I am a human being.' He said, 'This is nothing compared with what you will see now.' He took his gun out, pressing it to my head and with his full body weight pinning me on my side, he forcibly removed my underwear. He then made me do a concocted sort of dance. Another man, who was laughing, said, 'Why are you bringing perfumes?' I replied, 'They are gifts for the people I love'. He said, 'Oh, do you have love in your culture?'

"As they ridiculed me, they took delight most in mocking letters I had received from readers in England. I had now been without food and water and the toilet for 12 hours, and having been made to stand, my legs buckled. I vomited and passed out. All I remember is one of them gouging, scraping and clawing with his nails at the tender flesh beneath my eyes. He scooped my head and dug his fingers in near the auditory nerves between my head and eardrum. The pain became sharper as he dug in two fingers at a time. Another man had his combat boot on my neck, pressing into the hard floor. I lay there for over an hour. The room became a menagerie of pain, sound and terror."

An ambulance was called and told to take Mohammed to a hospital, but only after he had signed a statement indemnifying the Israelis from his suffering in their custody. The Palestinian medic refused, courageously, and said he would contact the Dutch embassy escort. Alarmed, the Israelis let the ambulance go. The Israeli response has been the familiar line that Mohammed was "suspected" of smuggling and "lost his balance" during a "fair" interrogation, Reuters reported yesterday.

Israeli human rights groups have documented the routine torture of Palestinians by Shin Bet agents with "beatings, painful binding, back bending, body stretching and prolonged sleep deprivation". Amnesty has long reported the widespread use of torture by Israel, whose victims emerge as mere shadows of their former selves. Some never return. Israel is high in an international league table for its murder of journalists, especially Palestinian journalists, who receive barely a fraction of the kind of coverage given to the BBC's Alan Johnston.

The Dutch government says it is shocked by Mohammed Omer's treatment. The former ambassador Jan Wijenberg said: "This is by no means an isolated incident, but part of a long-term strategy to demolish Palestinian social, economic and cultural life ... I am aware of the possibility that Mohammed Omer might be murdered by Israeli snipers or bomb attack in the near future."

While Mohammed was receiving his prize in London, the new Israeli ambassador to Britain, Ron Proser, was publicly complaining that many Britons no longer appreciated the uniqueness of Israel's democracy. Perhaps they do now."

Irish to Resit Their Exam

I know I've come late to the subject of the Irish EU referendum result but it is still a live issue. Today the Guardian records that Nicolas Sarkozy is "to try to cajole the Irish into staging a second vote on the EU's stalled reform blueprint."

If the Irish are given a second chance to see if they get the same result should the 19 countries ,which have already ratified the treaty, not go through equivalent processes - just to see if they all still get the same answer? It's only logical after all. Why should only one country get two chances?

I know! I know! I'm being silly. Students who pass their exams don't have to resit them. Only those who failed initially have to resit in a second attempt to pass.

But the Irish didn't fail. They gave one of the two possible correct answers.

I'm confused.

Chocolate Soldiers?

Patrick Wintour writes in the Guardian about a David Miliband speech, to be delivered today, in which the thorny issue of European military capability is raised. Buried in the article, Wintour writes:

"It is estimated there are 2 million soldiers in the 27 EU countries, and yet only 100,000 of them are equipped to fight."

Only 100,000 equipped to fight! What of the remaining 1,900,000 soldiers?

Are they chocolate soldiers?