Harefield Gazette

Fingers in the ears and vests on chests (please)

- Every week BARBARA FISHER looks at issues that affect us all – the issues that get you talking. You can join in by emailing bmailbarba­ra@gmail.com

DOCTORS should give us more choice in our treatments by telling us everything that could go wrong, apparently. I say…NO, don’t do it! The official idea is that we can then make our own ‘informed’ choice, but of course it would also mean that the medic who is making us decide could not then be sued.

The Royal College of Surgeons has been accused of being paternalis­tic – even bullying – by handing over responsibi­lity to us, although I do have some sympathy, as this whole litigation business has got out of hand.

But please don’t make us decide what’s best for us, just because a few people abuse the system.

I liked it when we were given the bare facts and advised on the best course. In 2007 I had two major operations in a year, and each time the surgeon read out the terrible things that could happen to me, I put my fingers in my ears. ‘I don’t want to hear’, I said. ‘I’ve got to tell you’ he said, ploughing on regardless.

So how much worse can it be if they are planning to extend this awfulness and then make us decide, say between drug treatment and surgery all on our own?

They are the experts after all. It’s as daft as MPs letting us decide on the best way forward for our economy on our pocket calculator­s.

I don’t even read the labels that come with drugs from the chemist. I know if I do, that as soon as I pop the pill I’ll immediatel­y think I’m going to vomit and have wheezing, cramps and bloating, all at the same time.

I also try not to google any diseases which may be waiting in my wings, but I do know if it could be serious I should go immediatel­y to my doctor so please don’t contact me to tell me off for being an ostrich.

I’ll only have my fingers in my ears …

I’VE got my hands over my eyes now after switching on the TV for the morning news and getting Lorraine Kelly ogling men in pants instead.

It is quite ridiculous that, ever since Poldark shed his vest, a weird sub-culture has sprung up of giggly older women acting as if they’ve never seen a man in underwear before.

I hope they don’t ever complain about women being treated as sex objects by men.

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