Just Another Day

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“Thirty Kenyans including many children have been burned to death in a church, after seeking refuge from the mounting violence over last week's elections.”


“A suicide bomber in Iraq has killed 30 people in an attack in the capital Baghdad, police reports say.”


“At least 13 people have been killed in attacks by gunmen on two police stations and a hotel in the Nigerian oil city of Port Harcourt.”


Happy New Year.



News headlines quoted from BBC News

Punishment to Fit the Crime

I’m not a violent person at all. But like most people, I get really irritated by stupid people and sometimes feel that I’d like to knock a bit of sense into them… preferably with a baseball bat… but in reality I know I could never hurt anyone or anything. I’m the type of person who covers my eyes when people fight on the TV.

One of my brothers on the other hand is completely different. He’s a bully. He’s extremely aggressive and is well known to the police for this and other reasons. When his name is typed into the computer at the police station his details display in red, and flashing!* Some of the things he has done to other members of my family are unimaginable, and they are rarely on speaking terms with him. It’s not a nice thing to say about your own brother, but really there is no other way to describe him – he’s just a nasty person.

He’s recently become a father again, this time to a son. I can’t help feeling resentful of this.** I would love children, but for various reasons I know it will never happen.

My Mum told me that he had “beaten someone up” again yesterday.
“Great. Nice to see he is taking the responsibilities of Fatherhood seriously” I replied. But actually I was forced to eat my own words.

He punched the man after seeing him repeatedly beat a child laying on the ground, with his belt. What did the boy do to be “deserving” of such a punishment? He was late home from school.

A neighbour came out and took the child into her home, and called the police. When the police arrived to take statements they learned that the boy was 9 years old. He said his Mother and Father regularly beat him and his 4 year old sister, sometimes beating her while she is naked.

Apparently the officer said he would take the boy home and “have a word” with his parents. Is this for real? I like to think that for reasons of confidentiality the officer couldn’t reveal what his course of action would be. Or maybe he presumes that people know what the procedure in such a circumstance is, and the expression “have a word” is all encompassing. Maybe any police officers reading could enlighten us as to what would actually happen in such a circumstance?

Anyway, it seems whatever my views of my brother are; there are always people far, far worse, and much less deserving of having the privilege of raising children.



*Does this really happen or was the copper pulling my leg?

**I really need to tackle this problem as his son is nearly 4 weeks old and, I’m ashamed to say, I still haven’t made the effort to see him yet.

Just Read

Not meant as a command but as a kind of play on words as in the post I make reference to “Just Another Thought…”, “JustGiving” and “Just Smile…”

I’ve been meaning to do a blog roll and side bar update for what seems like forever. (Of course, if you’ve read my previous post you’ll realise that I haven’t actually written a blog post for millions of years now, but I have travelled back in time to update my blog, so to the average unenlightened reader it looks like it’s only been a few months since I last did a blog roll update, which is far from forever)

You’ll notice a couple of new blogs listed. One of them, “Just Another Thought…” is written by my dear friend Aiders. We actually lived opposite each other when we were 14-16 but then lost touch when we left school and both moved to other areas. Thirteen years later we got in touch with each other again through Friends Reunited and I’m glad to say have stayed in touch ever since. I didn’t know back then that she had such a great talent for writing, but her poems are beautiful. Thankfully she has chosen to share some of them with us in her blog.

You’ll also notice that there are two links to “JustGiving” supporting two different sponsored events. The first is for my friend Dawn Morley, who is running in the Race for Life this year to raise money for Cancer Research UK. This charity is the worlds leading independent organisation dedicated to cancer research, and with an estimated 1 in 3 suffering from cancer at some point in their life, I dare say many owe their lives to this valuable research. I know cancer has claimed at least 3 lives in my family, not to mention the friends lost, and the friends and family who have been successfully treated. Both Dawn and her teenage daughter will be running in memory of Dawns Dad who sadly died of cancer nearly two years ago. The race will be very challenging for Dawn as she has never done anything like this before, but obviously the charity is one that is close to her heart.

The second is for a team of LAS Paramedics who I don’t know from Adam. They’re climbing the three highest mountains in England, Scotland, and Wales in a 24 hour period - hell, it would be challenging enough without the time restriction. They are climbing to raise money for The Richard House Childrens Hospice, which provides support and care for children who are not expected to live into adulthood. Angela (the author of Just Smile…) has done some of her nurse training in this hospice, and she explains that it is a very valuable service that is suffering due to lack of funding. Previously Angela had told me about the services this home struggles to provide:

“[The] children's hospice… offered respite and end of life care. They had a lovely, recently built facility that offered residential and day care… The day care service was no longer offered because of funding... Most of this purpose built facility wasn't being used and during my placement they were making staff redundant…”


I sincerely wish Dawn and the Paramedic team every success in their upcoming challenges. Although Dawn has already exceeded her target amount, wouldn’t it be great if she could raise 150% (£225)? Or even 200% (£300)? I will gladly pass on any messages of support, but if you’re a blogger, please link to these two fundraising events on your blog. Thank you!

An End to Slavery?

There has been a lot of news articles recently about the 200th anniversary of the “abolition” of the slave trade, which apparently falls on Sunday 25th March.

The media has focussed a lot of attention on sex trafficking and described that as a type of slavery, as if the connection between the two has only just occurred to them, or as if they’ve only just discovered that it exists.

Wake up and smell your Fair Trade coffee.

And then there’s this little gem.

Personally I find it perversely hypocritical to say on one hand:

“We’re appalled that our ancestors used to treat their fellow man in this way. We’re so glad that we’re a civilised nation now, and don’t earn our fortunes through the slave trade anymore”

…and then on the other hand say…

“…but I’ll keep hold of my huge inheritance that was amassed through treating others in such an appalling way, thank you very much.”

If you wish, you can help to pay for the upkeep of their home which was built on slavery, and in exchange have a guided tour. Of course, being a charitable institution, you are encouraged to pay more than the base entry fee, thus enabling them to claim a further 28% from the government.

In keeping with the spirit of charity, entry is free on Sunday 25th March – the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the slave trade.

Happy anniversary.

Speechless

I just read this article on Inspector Gadgets blog.

I don’t care that he was a Police officer. I care that he is a human being.

How much little is a life worth these days?

In particular read this incredibly moving poem by James, the brother of the victim, Daniel Coffill.

Daniel Coffill

A New Kind of Stupid

I just had to blog today on the level of stupidity that I have seen in the news recently. Forget the stupid drivers, forget the stupid shoppers; today I have read news articles that show a new kind of stupid.

Take for example the news about the stricken cargo ship MSC Napoli. Containers have been strewn across Branscombe beach in Devon, and it is reported that looters have been turning up in droves to scavenge what they can find on the beach. This has rightly been condemned by the police and coast guard officials as the goods inside these containers obviously belong to other people, some of which are personal items.

However, as much as the greed of these people disgust me, the thing I found stupid beyond belief was a comment submitted to BBC News and quoted within the article:

“Let them keep what they find. They are removing rubbish from the beach!”
Ken Bolton from Manchester

Umm… no. You see this is rubbish (which is clearly being left behind):



What is actually being removed is barrels of wine and BMW motorbikes, and other valuable items.



Also in the news is a two year old boy who was banned from a shop for refusing to remove his “hoodie”:





And on a more serious note is the story of a man who lost his life during a mugging that went wrong. The Judge David Hodson is quoted as saying regarding the murderer:

“The dreadful catalogue of physical and emotional abuse you have been subjected to as a child has undoubtedly contributed to the anti-social behaviour disorder you suffer.”

I'm sure this statement will bring great comfort to the victims family. If you click on the link to the news article you can watch video phone footage of the murderer "suffering" from the affects of his anti-social behaviour disorder.

Two questions: Is anti-social behaviour a disorder?* And is physical and emotional abuse as a child a justifiable excuse for a completely unrelated murder in adulthood?

I'd just like to point out that I have friends who wrote the book on suffering physical and emotional abuse, and yet they are balanced, upright members of society. They don’t mug people; they don’t carry knives; and they don’t stab people to death.




*If so, I’m sorry kids but your ASBO no longer makes you look “tough” and “cool” – it just proves you’re a fruit cake.

Images from BBC News

Soap Box

From olden times when a speaker would literally stand on a soap box to gain height, before making an impromptu speech, often about politics. Used metaphorically to describe a person airing their strong views unofficially and often uninvited, as in: “He’s on his soapbox again”

I was really annoyed last night after reading this post where Angela, a student paediatric nurse, tells us that in her essays her own opinion is viewed as worthless unless she can backup what she says with references to other peoples work.

As I said in the comments section of that post, since when can a student or “ordinary” person not come up with a groundbreaking idea of their own? And I list just three examples:

1. John Nash – who was a student when he came up with his equilibrium theory, which won him the Nobel Prize in economics 44 years later.
2. Patch Adams - who was a student when he envisioned a free hospital which treated patients with love and laughter. He realised this dream for 12 years until the hospital was forced to close due to lack of funding, but he now takes his unique form of medicine around the world to orphans and refugees.
3. Augusto Odone - who had no previous medical background and yet educated himself on his sons condition, Adrenoleukodystrophy (ALD), and came up with a pioneering preventative treatment for the disease.
   

Clearly people don’t have to be highly educated professors who have spent their whole lives studying one particular area, before making a groundbreaking discovery of some kind. All scientific discoveries have to be based on a theory first, which by its very nature is unproven and has no “evidence based practice” to refer to.

I couldn't understand why the views of Angela’s markers had annoyed me so much, but as Mr Man put it "It stifles creative thinking". People should be allowed to develop and become more than what they are in various ways. Intelligence cannot be measured by how much of someone else’s work a person can quote, but by how much they can reason and discover themselves.


Mr Mans Wife steps down from her soap box.

The three wise monkeys

Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.

Thank you to Tom Reynolds, for once again keeping us informed about another blog which has been forced to stop due to pressure from the “powers that be”. Unfortunately this time I have not been able to read this blog myself so I am unable to comment on it personally. However, it is more than a little disturbing when people are unable to write truthfully about their experiences “behind the scenes” of services that we as the public rely on so heavily.

This takes me back to when my husband was in hospital. The way we were treated by hospital staff was absolutely appalling. We particularly had problems with the temporary consultant on the ward at the time and even some of the nurses were aghast at his treatment of some of his patients. These ones encouraged me to go ahead with my complaint but said they were “unable” to complain about him themselves and that I shouldn’t quote anything they had said. They wouldn’t tell me why but after what I had witnessed during my meeting with the “powers that be” (namely the Medical Director), and the subsequent result (namely the whole thing being swept very neatly under the proverbial carpet), it has become clear to me that these ones were also unable to truthfully voice what they had witnessed through fear of losing their jobs.

It appears to me that if you are employed in any way by the NHS, then speaking out against anyone (particularly of higher rank) or anything within that service is strictly prohibited. You are to remain loyal at all times, and protect the infallible identity of our Great National Health Service.

Of course I am not employed by the "Great National Health Service", so I can say what ever I like – and I will*. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for a lot of the services that we receive, and often the people within these services work extremely hard for little appreciation, but I am disgusted that these same people within this service are forced to keep quiet about things that are just wrong. Although my experiences are from the “outside”, I will freely post about them, and yes, I will quote what other healthcare professionals have said to me, as it is unlikely now that their identity would be discovered.


*You can read my experiences of dealing with the Mental Health Services in my other blog.

Homelessness

I fed a homeless person today. I'm not saying that so that you all think I'm wonderful; it actually makes me feel quite crappy. Let me explain.

I was sitting on a bench in town, eating my hotdog (don't tell my slimming club leader), and this lad comes along and mumbles something to me. I asked him to repeat what he had said, so bowing his head towards me slightly and looking at my hotdog he repeated "Can you spare any change so that I can get something to eat?" I paused for a moment, not knowing what to say. I don't agree with lying, and I knew I had some change. But like everywhere else I suspect, we have a big drug problem in our town, and I can't possibly know if he is genuine or not.

I told him I don't give change to people I don't know. He gave a slightly pained expression, closing his eyes, holding his tummy, and tilting his head backwards. "Please" he begged. “Are you hungry?” I asked, and he nodded. “I’ll buy you something to eat if you’re hungry, but I’m sorry, I don’t give money to people I don’t know”. He seemed happy with that, saying “I totally respect that”. So off we walked to the hotdog stand, and I bought him a hotdog (with cheese at his request!) and a can of drink too. I made a joke about losing my seat on the bench, and then we parted company.

I can’t imagine how embarrassing it must feel to have to ask someone to give you the money to feed yourself. It was obviously hard enough for him the first time round, and then I made him repeat it. Then, it was obvious that I was buying the food for him, humiliating the boy even further. I couldn’t even give him the dignity of being able to buy it himself.

I usually avoid homeless people like the plague, but that’s only because of a bad experience I once had. A girl was sitting in the street in town, and it was late in the year, so it was dark although it wasn’t late. She was asking for money as people walked by, so I asked her if she wanted something to eat. Off I went and bought her something, and then we sat on the bench and chatted for a while. She admitted that she had used drugs before, and wasn’t offended that I offered to buy her food instead of giving her money. I suspect that the genuine cases usually aren’t. Then this big scary looking bloke came along and started shouting at her, saying that she had stolen his phone. It seemed to go on forever, and I didn’t know what to do. I was just sitting there, right in the middle of it, and I thought “How can I just walk away while this man is being so threatening towards her?” I spoke up to try to calm the bloke down, which was totally the wrong thing to do, and he started shouting at me as well, and accusing me of being a “smack head”. The situation totally shook me up, especially as I was feeling rather fragile at the time anyway, and I made my excuses and left. For a long time after that I suffered from anxiety attacks each time I went into town, especially if a stranger tried to approach me.

Homeless people seem different to how they used to be. Maybe it’s always been this way in bigger towns and cities, I don’t know, but years ago in our town homeless people seemed to be smelly old men wearing long coats and fingerless gloves, who maybe smoked roll-ups. These days you can’t tell them apart from any other teenager hanging around in the town centre. But then I’m not sure if these truly are homeless people, or just beggars. I don’t remember seeing homeless people actually begging before, although I remember seeing homeless people. They always used to just look through bins, although I am in no way suggesting that this is how a person should live.

One bloke in particular that I remember, always used to come into KFC when I worked there, when it was cold and dark, just for somewhere to keep warm. He’d buy a cup of tea, and go and sit in the corner out of the way. We always used to get a free dinner at KFC, which I didn’t always use, so I would put a bit of dinner on a tray for him and take it over. Again, I’m not blowing my own trumpet, the point I’m making is that he never took that for granted. He didn’t start coming in every night thinking he would get a free meal, and when he did come in he never asked for it, he would just ask for his normal cup of tea, and he would always pay for it.

On the other hand, we used to get another old lady come in, who I don’t think was actually homeless, but she was scruffy looking, and she used to buy a bag of fries and then ask you to slip some chicken in there for her. I would always apologise and say no, explaining that the chicken pieces are actually counted, so I couldn’t get away with it. It never stopped her asking though, and she was very persistent. But I knew that if I started giving it to her she would be coming in all the time for it. She should have gone to a chip shop instead; they’re much better value for money.

As I said, in the past most homeless people never seemed to expect help from others. There was a lady that my Mum met once, who said she had made herself voluntarily homeless. She said she was going to be a missionary in China, and that living homeless was part of her training. I don't know if that is true or not, or if she was simply embarrassed by her current situation. My Mum said she seemed well educated, and was well spoken. Anyway, one night she was outside a shop in the area where my Mum lived at the time, looking through a bin for something to eat. It was a cold night, with snow on the ground, and all she had on her feet were newspapers and carrier bags that she had wrapped around them. Some lads started throwing stones and snow balls at her, so my Mum gave them a telling off and checked that the girl was alright. My Mum asked where she would sleep that night, and the girl explained that she would just find a bus shelter somewhere. My Mum insisted that the girl spent the night at her house, saying that if she didn’t she would be worrying about her all night. The girl finally agreed, although she didn’t want to go; she kept saying how smelly and dirty she was and that she didn’t want to be any trouble. She said “Maybe I could just sleep in your shed?”. Realising that this was the only way she was going to get her out of the snow, my Mum agreed – and it wasn’t until they got to my Mums house that she told the girl that she doesn’t have a shed! My Mum offered her some shoes, but she wouldn't accept them, and she wouldn't accept any food to eat, only a cup of Bovril. She insisted that she didn't want to be any trouble, and she didn't want to go into the living room because she felt she was too smelly and dirty. My Mum offered her a bed for the night, but she insisted on sleeping in the hallway by the front door. She was very polite and appreciative, and left very quietly early the next morning.

I wish I had my Mums courage to show love for people in this way, but how do you know you’re not going to get that big scary bloke from town hammering on your door, accusing you of being a “smack head” and demanding his mobile phone back? I have nothing against homeless people, and I hope that my comments haven’t come across in a derogatory or stereotypical way at all. I don’t pretend to understand the issues surrounding homelessness; I just wish it didn’t exist.