Saturday, 7 March 2015

The Anatomy Of A Drug Error

I made a serious drug error last year. There, I said it - confession is good for the soul. Fortunately, no one was harmed but this was the first time in 23 years as a GP that I got it that badly wrong. The story is worth telling in detail as it contains important lessons for me, my practice and the wider NHS.
In a nutshell I prescribed an antibiotic (No, that wasn't the sin – there was a genuine indication!) to a frail patient in a care home whose records unambiguously contained a correctly coded allergy to that drug. The drug was prescribed, dispensed and the full course given before the error came to light. Had the patient had a significant reaction, in his/her frail state, it could easily have caused death or hospital admission.

All doctors have a mental script they rehearse when prescribing to stop this from occurring. My checkpoints for a home visit are as follows:
1) Check the patient print-out I carry where allergies are recorded on the front page
2) Ask myself, ‘Are there any other reasons, drug interactions or co-morbidities, which would contraindicate this drug?’
3) Ask the patient, ‘Are you allergic to anything?’
4) Ask the carer or relative, ‘Are they allergic to anything?’
5) On writing the visit up back at the practice, prescribe the drug on the clinical system, without printing the already handwritten prescription, as this will alert me automatically to drug errors as part of the process
6) Trust the dispensing chemist, who often has drug reactions recorded on their system, to alert me if they are aware of a problem
7) Trust the care home administering the drug will check the drug against their records and alert me if there is a problem
This has served me well for 23 years and only once before have I got to stage 5 and had to back-peddle to prevent a drug being given wrongly.

So, to the anatomy...
In August 2013, as a result of growing pressure from an increasing list in too small a building, we made an application to close our list to new registrations. In making the application one of the reasons I gave to NHSE was 
‘Increased stress on doctors raising the risk of adverse patient events’
And I concluded the application with 
‘We believe that, without a change, continuing to increase the pressure on our building by increasing our list size and continuing to the increase the pressure on individual staff because of our recruitment difficulties will necessarily result in patient harm at some future point. We are obliged to avoid this and raise the issue with the LAT and CCG. We believe our proposal is reasonable and timely.’
I quoted the relevant GMC guidance, for good measure.

It took NHSE four months (much longer than the contracted time for response) to reject our request concluding that,
‘there was adequate GP to patient ratio provision available at the practice to manage the current demand’
helpfully adding, despite our pointing out how over-stretched we were, that
‘The practice could also consider exploring seven day working as a way of managing the current demand’
We were obliged to struggle on. On 8/3/14, after a particularly bad day on call, I emailed my partners, describing my day, flagging it as a significant event for my appraisal discussion in July and suggesting that we apply for a list closure again, concluding:-
‘I don't think I did any harm y'day but the safety margins are becoming uncomfortably narrow which might be tolerable for old hands but carries a bigger risk for GPRs and less experience salarieds’
There was a general reluctance to re-apply because it was felt there would be little point, given such a negative response first time around. Nevertheless we started re-drafting an application.

In August 2014 I experienced one of the busiest days I have known in general practice. I worked from 7:45am, foot continuously on the accelerator, until after 6:30pm with no break for coffee or lunch or tea. I probably managed to pass urine once. For the first time in 22 years I was unable to complete the work I needed to do that day before being late for our Partnership meeting that evening. It was a 13.5 hour day and I cycled home exhausted. I slept fitfully and woke early, my mind racing with the events of the previous day and thoughts for the coming one, as I was to lead a meeting that afternoon to discuss federation plans with several local practices.

The fateful visit occurred later the same day, at the end of another full-on morning with no break and no lunch, with only a few minutes to get back to the surgery to lead the meeting. The patient, who I knew well, was acutely ill and needed a prescription. In my rush at checkpoint 1), I missed the drug allergy on my patient printout. I can’t remember whether I checked and just missed it or whether I just didn't check. I thought I knew the patient so skipped through checkpoint 2). The patient has dementia so no point in checkpoint 3).  I wasn’t the only person having a busy day, the carer got called away to someone else mid-consultation and so checkpoint 4) was omitted too. For some reason checkpoints 6) and 7) also failed to kick in.
I rushed back to people waiting for me and the meeting went well. Then with my mind buzzing I set about catching up with all the tasks and letters and path results that had come in that morning and afternoon and the work I had been unable to complete the previous day. I wrote up the visit and went through checkpoint 5). The computer warned me about the drug interaction but I flicked through ignoring it along with all the other non-clinically relevant warnings that come up.

A week later I was reviewing the patient’s notes for some reason and to my horror realised what had happened. I printed out the visit slip – yes the allergy was there. I tried re-issuing the drug – yes the computer did warn me. The really scary thing is that despite being a conscientious GP for 22 years, despite predicting that something like this would happen (though not to me!) and despite teaching safe prescribing habits to GP registrars for 15 years, I did not realise what was happening at the time. I was just overloaded and hitting me so I'm more careful in future isn't necessarily going to help.
We reviewed the event as a practice and we have made the visit printout even clearer and have heightened awareness but if I have another 48 hours like that I don’t think I can guarantee it won’t happen again. The only way I can avoid it is by being able to control my workload to within what I know after 22 years’ experience is safe. I had already asked for that and was refused, against my better judgement.

This all occurred a week after we had again applied for a list closure at the end of July 2014, with a pretty much identical document. We did not hold out much hope as if NHSE were consistent they would have to respond in the same way as the first time.

This time they granted our request!

I was itching to see how they would explain this volte face in the formal response. The application was identical, their response the opposite. In the event whether to hide their total inconsistency or because organisational dementia prevented its recognition, the letter merely detailed the rules and our duties concerning list closure, without any explanation of the decision.
I have no confidence in our area team. They failed to listen to my concerns first time round which was at least partly responsible for me nearly killing someone and then behaved wholly inconsistently without explanation.
Since the list closure things have been a bit better and I have no further incidents to report. But in four weeks we have to open the list again and nothing fundamental has changed. We've looked at hot-desking and made significant changes to the appointment system and phone system which will help.

Much is made of learning from the airline industry in making the NHS safer. However, NHSE, DoH and the government are not credible in this matter. The current contractual arrangements mean that there is no point beyond which a GP cannot be pushed and NHSE is quite intent to keep on pushing. This is in stark contrast to flight crew safety rules which 
‘recognize the universality of factors that lead to fatigue in most individuals and regulates these factors to ensure that flight crew members in passenger operations do not accumulate dangerous amounts of fatigue.  Fatigue threatens aviation safety because it increases the risk of pilot error...’
If only the GMS/PMS contract was as sensible.

So what is the solution to the current situation where resignation from one’s livelihood is the only reliable way to escape an intolerable safety risk? Well one thing that would help is giving GPs absolute discretion about list closure. We could have avoided the above near miss, which convinced me that Area Teams are not competent to make such decisions as they are susceptible to political pressure. It is absurd that GPs are trusted to decide on the patient with chest pain in front of them and on commissioning for populations but are denied the ability to decide on a safe workload in their own practices. The requirement to go cap in hand to Area Teams to get a list closure has contributed to the serial de-funding of primary care by allowing them to pretend there is adequate GP coverage. Politically, of course, it would cause major embarrassment as practices closed lists up and down the country but this is a crucial safety governor and would oblige proper resourcing and commissioning of primary care to save political face, which is the right way round.

And if no solution is forthcoming, General Practice will have crossed, by NHSE’s action, from ‘if’ serious patient harm occurs to ‘when’ but it will be the GP who is hung out to dry. I find myself asking a question I never dreamt I’d ask, ‘Is it ethical to be a GP?’ Should I continue to work within this system, knowing there is a real chance of inadvertently harming a patient, when it deliberately and incompetently denies me the means to minimise that risk?

So how long do I continue to push my luck? If I do err again and someone is harmed whether I appear before a coroner’s or civil or a criminal court, or the GMC or the Health Ombudsman or the CCG Performance Committee or CQC or the latest ‘Safety’ Agency, I’ll produce this blog as evidence for the defence, M’lud.

Monday, 2 March 2015

Be clear on cancer!

Be clear on cancer. Well my patient was: 'Three weeks of heartburn? See your doctor', so they did.
I wish I was that clear!
No risk factors, no drinking, no smoking.
No red flags, no vomiting; eating, swallowing and appetite fine.  Put on a bit of weight. Typical mild but annoying symptoms on lying and bending, eased by a simple antacid. And on examination no nodes, no lumps, no anaemia, looks as well as I've ever seen them. No sign of cancer at all.
And when you dig a bit: well yes I've always been a bit prone to it, so not just three weeks, but worse in last year since starting the aspirin for the silent ischaemic heart disease based on the abnormal ECG and since stopping the PPI (anti-stomach acid drug) you gave to cover the NSAID (gut-rotting anti-inflammatory drug) course for the arthritis flare.
But there you have it, the big C genie is out of bottle or is it ogre out of his lair: could it be cancer? Well it might be and really only your age is against you but weight gain, aspirin and medication changes are actually much more likely causes.
Be clear on cancer: your GP estimates your risk at less than 2% given the above but a) he might be wrong and the risk is actually higher and b) if he isn't you could still be in the 2% anyway (you might have asymptomatic cancer and your symptoms are coincidentally due to the weight, aspirin and medication changes and I'm about to blow your luck - he said with a smile on his face)!
You always cheer me up, doctor!
It's called explaining risk to the patient - you are 98% OK. OK?
Oh... so you're not 100% sure....
Be clear on cancer because your GP is not wholly non-anxious about his conclusion about the best course of action here and saying 'You're the Doc' is not much help when I ask 'What do you think?'
Am I mistakenly colluding with your desire to avoid endoscopy to your disadvantage, or are you just being nice to me in my uncertainty, giving me an excuse not to refer?
And if we refer you all something else will have to go - causing longer waiting times for the 2% who do turn out to have cancer whose prognosis will worsen as a result.
So we're clear on (symptoms that have <5% chance of) cancer, just unclear on what to do about it.
Decision! Stop aspirin (and increase your heart attack risk - he smiles again) and restart a PPI and I'll review you in two weeks.
It'll either be another totally unsung, well-judged piece of risk management that saves enough cash to allow the NHS to fight another day, avoids delaying the diagnosis of those we hope will be less fortunate than you and avoids your small endoscopy associated risk and your inevitable anxiety or I'll be thrown to the dogs as another cancer-missing-GP. Watch this space!

Well that was two weeks ago and on telephone review (What it is to be an early adopter of new technology!) my patient is absolutely fine. Will now stop PPI and see. Still no certainty of course - I've either slightly saved the NHS from financial self-harm from a miss-targeted ad campaign or I've missed a cancer and covered up the symptoms - useless GPs...
As a Reader in the good old C of E I could go on a funeral course and then I could legally bury my mistakes. Mmm better not mention that to my appraiser.

Monday, 16 February 2015

PMS Slash: A Postscript

We met with our local area team reps about the so called ‘Review’.

Seems the spreadsheet was not as misleading, as some of the compensatory money for our PMS slash comes from others’ loss of MPIG being re-injected into global sum; so as beneficiaries of others’ worse misfortune we apparently should be grateful. There was no answer to my charge that the rest of it was misleading. But there were more reasons to be grateful that the practice which I have spent 22 years of my life building was about to be destabilised. At least there was a locally agreed transition arrangement and we might be able to get the money back through (an as yet an unspecified means of) reinvestment: MPIG practices had no such luck. Which do you prefer; at least a chance of avoiding death or disability by annual cuts over 6 years or instant limb amputation?

And the pain management service we have provided since 2002, currently at double the number of patients we're contracted for? As I predicted they had no idea, none at all, at just what they were about to 'review' out of existence. And they saw my point re our growth element to address inequalities but... 

The last drops of goodwill and trust are thus squandered. But it's worse than that. I now know that there is no point in trying to create innovation within NHS structures because future iterations of these sociopathic, demented entities will capriciously squish it. Reality is: 'cynically take advantage where you can, realising it may be transient'. This is absolutely not the lesson needed at this critical juncture and is completely at odds with the stated aims of the review. The positive words about PMS in the announcement of the review are entirely contradicted by NHSE's behaviour, at least locally. A proper PMS review was never done and there was never the least intention of doing so. They had concluded that they could get away with giving practices a Hobson's choice and effectively bully them into GMS contracts.


In the end the meeting was not about 'reviewing' anything (well we knew that really), this was a done deal; they were there to tick the 'Met with practice' box. The localism that PMS was supposed to be is revealed as a lie; so what does that tell us of what the centre really thinks of that other manifestation of localism, CCGs? A quantitative easing in the NHS with the currency of contempt?


They had nothing to offer and displayed the body language to match; minimal eye contact, except as demanded by a measured politeness, and a kind of corporate weariness. (Please this is not a personal criticism; the cogs in a bulldozer are just that.) It became clear why.


In 6 weeks it's no longer their problem. That's when co-commissioning kicks in. If you, like me, thought the 'co' participle implied joint working, that was in no way the impression conveyed. But in line with the above experience, we can no longer assume that what's said relates to what will be. There was an unmistakable sense of signing off of responsibility which was to land squarely onto CCGs. So folks the commissioning of most secondary healthcare and now primary care rests with an organisation of which I am obliged to be a member and thus accept responsibility for, despite having no control at all over the amount of funding (unlike local councils) and with ineffective representation. If secondary care fails it's GP commissioning failure and soon the same is true of primary care. The sting is ready, the denouement awaits the election result.


At the same time as passing primary care commissioning to CCGs NHSE has acted in a way that curtails their freedom of action by ensuring most PMS return to GMS. The centre will continue to control the agenda as they.have for the last 10 years. This charade 'review' wasn't about saving money or cost effectiveness but about retaining central power over core GP contracts. CCGs are denied the option to fund GP contracts properly via PMS. They can only repeat the history of the IOS Red Book failure in the form of damaging short term LES proliferation/fragmentation. The bung to CCGs to accept this has been paid for by PMS practices. In my practice the losers will be people in pain and the disadvantaged, as well as increasingly demoralised partners.

I genuinely do try to adopt St Maureen's positive spirit and I'd love to report something good but it's so, so hard when I find my every cynical thought backed up by evidence that that very path has already been laid. It's like seeing a patient where you immediately think 'cancer' and where, to your growing horror, every red flag symptom you ask about turns out positive. I wonder if I'm paranoid but if I am, then, at the very least, there has been massive communication failure by NHSE to GPs. I didn't get the impression they cared a jot.

The challenge now is to carry on even though we know we can't trust anyone outside our organisation. To judge from comments at the end of Pulse articles many already have decided it's no longer a challenge for them. Not long until Good Friday.

Sunday, 1 February 2015

Apocalypse in a bus shelter

And I saw a creature with whirring wings hovering in the sky. And with six wings it hung over the bus shelter and spied the shelter with a camera eye. And I was in the eye and on the roof there were big blue letters in the colour of the UN and the letters were ‘NHS’. And I rejoiced greatly that, so visible from the sky, it would be protected.

Then I saw a hilux pick-up driving to the shelter and, not black, as I feared, but a blue creature and its yellow cur came from the truck. And like reapers, but with sledgehammers for scythes, they raised them to the glass of the shelter.

And I cried out 'But you have no mandate for this! Where is your authority?' And the wise watchers exclaimed, 'This must not happen to the shelter of the people!' And the creatures pretended to pause and then swung into the shelter anyway. In slo-mo the single, crystal glass shattered into millions of sparkling shards. And I despaired at the shards but the vultures rejoiced.

Woe to the shelter of the people!

And as I watched ant workers came from the ground and tried to carry the shards and piece them together. And I wept and wept for the workers. Who will help repair the shards? And I thought I saw one like a son of man walking among the bus stands. Wail for the shelter, its damage seems too great.

And as I looked, podiums were established; there was a red and a yellow and a blue and one that looked like a fag-end soaked in stale beer. And there was a green and there wasn't a green one. And those who perched on the podiums and their minions fought with words and SoMe.

And I heard a voice, the voice of the people, with ire, like the roar of the sea, and the voice said, ‘Stop pissing around! This is a bus shelter not a pantomime; people are going to die!’

Tuesday, 27 January 2015

News Flash: PMS slash

Our drug budget is overspent. (We'll ignore for the moment the fact that our disease prevalences are greater than the CCG average in nearly all disease areas from COPD to depression and our SMR is 40% greater than CCG average and that drug budget setting makes no meaningful adjustment for this major morbidity differential.) What should we do?

Well what about a drugs review? Simple, we calculate how much we are overspent, work out what the cost equivalent is for some high volume drug and just remove that drug from everyone's repeat prescription - and the patient? Well... Review over: we are now in budget! Someone else will have to sort out the patient at their next medication review.

Er no - we'd be shot and justifiably.

But this is exactly what NHSE have done in the PMS review. I naively imagined that a PMS review would be like a patient medication review: sit down, discuss progress and agree options. And after all such a review is hardly unreasonable. But no, in Leicestershire we got a badly worded email containing errors and an incomprehensible spreadsheet, sent out on 30th December 2014. We were told we had 30 days to decide our financial futures and were left to calculate our own PMS losses! Someone was meeting an internal deadline, methinks.

We're still not really sure what we lose. Less of a review, more of a slash. Bizarrely the spreadsheet also attempted to conceal the extent of the loss by projecting a compensating increase in income through an unexplained assumption of list and global sum growth while completely failing to account for the inevitable increases in costs! As such it seemed like a deceit, an NHS version of PPI miss-selling. Using the spreadsheet felt like a curious form of self harm.  They have no staff to do anything else I guess, hence, a wrecking ball.

Despite NHSE saying reviews should be at individual practice level to my knowledge we have had no such discussion. The 5YFV promised a New Deal for GP and this appears to be an early instalment... 

We'll leave the crass, unprofessional and uncaring way in which this was delivered as some more serious reflections may get lost in the shell-shock and anger. The PMS premium (the difference between core GMS and PMS baseline) is to be removed from PMS practices' funding (albeit with some transition arrangements locally). That's it, no review practice by practice, no consideration, as thoughtless a procedure as me stopping a drug en masse to get my drug spend down.

Just how unthinking can be seen by asking 'Why the PMS premium in the first place?' PMS contracts functions were twofold: firstly as an contribution to the late 1990s attempt to break up what was perceived as the GP monopoly on primary care and secondly as an attempt to create practices better moulded to deliver services to particular populations. To qualify for PMS funding, practices lost the security of the GMS contract in return for funding over core GMS to deliver additional services which GMS did not cover and which met locally agreed priorities.

So what is the message this across-the-board, unconsidered slash giving? That these PMS contracts, the negotiations, the investment, the planning and subsequent delivery and annual review were all essentially meaningless, even fraudulent, even though the stated aims of the review and the raison d'etre of PMS are essentially identical. All this work can be dispensed with by an Excel formula.

Now no one likes money being taken off them and I realise that some GPs harbour hard feelings toward PMS practices who they feel have been favoured (though they can't claim inequality of opportunity when PMS started). But please read on: this affects us all and many of the MPIG arguments are analogous.

There are immediate practical implications for a PMS practice like ours which will damage patient care. Our PMS bid had two components. One of our service developments was to provide an acupuncture and primary care pain management service for our patients, as well as those from local practices; given that chronic pain is known to be commoner in deprived populations. On the back of this our practice now supports local meetings of acupuncturists and complements our local pain service by up-skilling local GPs. This now faces amputation by the NHSE barber surgeons and they almost certainly don't even know they are doing it. How could they, without talking to us: the courtesy any decent GP would afford their patient?

In recognition too of the fact that deprived populations have higher age adjusted morbidity and consultation frequency at all ages apart from the very elderly, we received some PMS income which was invested in salaried GP time to address that health inequality of access unmet by core GMS, as well as developing better access for mental health, improved LARC, staff training and chronic disease management. This money continues to be well spent: we are in the top 10% for patients recommending the practice on the national patient survey, we are key members of an innovative sexual health scheme (the only surviving project from practice based commissioning locally), have some of the highest mental illness prevalences in the city (patients voting with their feet) and have been very active in diabetes research and in improving primary access to diabetes care. We have expanded our GP training capacity. We have maintained quality despite the erosion of PMS growth value over the years resulting in static partner pay for over 7 years but will struggle to continue if the cuts go through. The irony is that the money freed up by PMS reviews is supposed to be used to address health inequality. In our case it already is but this literally mindless process won't even recognise the fact. We will have to go through another (as yet unspecified) process which will necessarily be similar to the PMS negotiations but with no guarantee we will end where we are now! 'Idiocy' as a descriptor doesn't come close.

It also has deeply damaging implications for future service development. Any trust and confidence I had in the system of negotiating with PCOs in good faith is now wrecked. I used to think working with PCOs was like working with people with dementia; the organisational memory eroded with personnel churn and then vanished with each re-disorganisation; hugely frustrating but liveable with. But now it feels like working with someone with dementia on top of a sociopathic personality disorder.

Goodwill, which used to flow comfortably, now requires active anger suppression and serious moral effort: distrust, loss of respect and suspicion now colour my attitudes to such organisations as a whole (despite enjoying cordial relations with the individuals involved). Given this experience, am I likely to want engage in a PMS-like service development discussion again? Permanent damage is being done to the fabric of trust that underlies innovation in primary care. The sort of commitments 5YFV needs cannot be built on contractual relationships alone.

The NHSE has a huge amount of bridge building to win back the profession's confidence. I see little actual sign of that at present, 5YFV notwithstanding. NHSE has announced £10m to recruit and retain GPs; it would be more effective not to further demoralise practices by taking money away from teams that have a proven track record. Destabilising a key training practice in a city facing huge recruitment issues does seem particularly obtuse. NHSE's mission is 'high quality care for all', so it is ironic that I must report being driven to regard NHSE itself as currently the biggest threat to the quality of what I do.

Monday, 5 January 2015

It's raining risk!

In all the current fuss over overloaded A&E and dire GP recruitment and the endless recycling of blame, there is one bedrock of reality that the press and politicians alike do not appear to be aware of, let alone understand. This reality has not always been well articulated by medics This reality is clinical risk and it drives everything the NHS does.
I want to develop a climate analogy which I hope will illustrate the above but first what do I mean by clinical risk?
As soon as someone develops symptoms, questions of clinical risk arise. Most manage those questions themselves - 'It's just my usual headache.' Maybe or maybe it's serious. 'I'll wait and see; I'm sure it's nothing' ..so they manage it within their social setting. But once that capacity has been exhausted or (?over) sensitised by some health campaign, it presents to the health system.
Clinical general practice consists of making 100's of decisions daily concerning that risk.
Eg I get a phone message via reception that a patient requests more of those painkillers another doctor gave two weeks ago. So do I prescribe with potential risks of missing something and of inducing prescribed opiate dependence? Or do I trust the patient's judgement about re-consulting? I could see him/her but without it adding anything useful and in the process create an opportunity risk for the next patient who was then unable to see me in that slot.
The point is this; this clinical risk HAS to be handled and the buck has to stop somewhere. If I prevaricate and push it around the system I merely generate more health cost and new risks. So many of the simplistic solutions on offer fail at this point.
For some risks the course is clear: a new inguinal hernia needs sending down stream to the surgeon who will absorb the clinical risk by repair. But, and this is where the palpable ignorance of much of the media is, well, palpable, 95% of the risks do not have clear referral pathways because the risk defies neat diagnosis. There isn't anywhere better for them to go other than the risk sink that is primary care, mediated through safety netting, time, judgement, some interventions and, crucially, trust. Send them elsewhere and you waste resources. But medicine is complex and decisions are not always obvious and the triggers to a different course can be subtle, which is why it takes 10 years to train a GP and few more before they feel really confident.
So to the climate analogy. Primary care is the hills, forests, moors and upper river valleys. The risk falls as rain. If it is not to wash away bridges and wreck downstream A&E departments, (The clue is in the title: it's for Acute & Exceptional risk) it mostly needs to be contained early on and some of it channelled in a controlled fashion to the hospital department rivers that take the risk safely out to sea.
So we must have effective risk sinks for the safety of the whole system.
We cannot replace risk soak-aways entirely with risk-proof surfaces like medical assistants or inexperienced nurses and there is a limit to the risk absorption individual GPs can manage. Each decision takes finite time and taps emotional energy. Even with folk helping you, someone still needs to take responsibility for the risk handling decisions. The current crisis indicates that capacity has been exceeded.
The climate is changing and it is getting risk wetter as the population ages, some are becoming poorer and others seed the clouds. Our current problems cannot be solved by improved access alone if it is not accompanied by effective risk management.
The issue of GP pay is in many cases already irrelevant, as the personal cost is too high at any price. Too many have signed off with 'It got too much'. Yet the myth of the GP pay deal has remarkable traction despite being over 10 years old. Even the most brazen of politicians rarely try to blame a current crisis on the last but one government! It's hard to see how more resource can be avoided, even if actual pay remains static, (assuming one actually wants to solve the problem) despite the hypocrisy of portraying wage rises in the private sector as a sign of economic success and those in the public sector as symptoms of system failure. In any case we desperately need to reinforce those upstream defences.
This analogy highlights the blind stupidity of only focussing on A&E and hospitals. And yes we also need to dredge channels silted up with outdated modes of working (and market driven transaction costs?)
We (Politicians are you listening too?) must develop our first line of defence: empowering people's own risk management. This discussion must be had. For politicians to walk away from this is a dereliction of duty, Mr Hunt.
We need to ask of any health campaign what its effects on the climate will be and if it can't prove short term risk reduction, forget it. Will it really reduce risk rain in future or merely overload the system now?
We need OOH and NHS 111 to function as better risk soak-aways and not just channel it all downstream.
Until the crisis passes, we need to redirect activity upstream toward risk management and drop other risk generating activity such as dementia screens and health checks (even if they had been well conceived).
Our downstream NHS resources have been designed on the assumption of risk sinks higher up: and these are being lost...
Global warming is happening in this analogy and the flood prevention solutions are similar to the physical world, as are the consequences of inaction.

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