Some time ago , I went to give blood at the blood donation centre in Nottingham. As I sat there with a tourniquet on my arm, waiting to be punctured. I was asked if I would be happy for a trainee to attempt to place my cannula to draw blood.
I never have any problems with this type of thing. In fact, I run courses for dental nurses where I let them cannulate me 3 or 4 times per arm, so they can at least have practice or even the experience of cannulating someone.
On this occasion, the person who was training was unable to find the vein (I have amazing veins in my arm for cannulation, but never mind).
At which point they stopped the procedure, put Elastoplast on and told me I had to go home. I tried to explain that I had no problem whatsoever in being recannulated in the other arm or in another vein in the same arm, but they said they were “ not allowed”
I had booked off my diary from work and travelled to the centre of Nottingham, to try to do something to help other people, or at least someone else, by giving blood. In view of Alison, my wife's work, I feel an imperative to give blood, but I was denied because of the potential risk of a complication which was extremely rare, if almost entirely Unlikely, and the possibility of me bringing some sort of complaint against the service.
In the short preparation of this blog, I made a list of the things that I've encountered recently, which have a similar sort of vein and have a similar sort of metaphor.
My son Callum was clocked by a policeman with a speeding gun not long after passing his test. This is bad news because if you get 6 points in the first 2 years, then you can have your licence revoked, and so getting 3 points in the first 20 minutes is a bad thing. But when we submitted the material stating that he was driving the car, they came back to tell us he didn't have a full licence and that we'd be going to court. This was because it hadn't been processed properly at the driving centre when he passed his test, and it was a relatively straightforward thing to sort out, except almost impossible to get hold of someone to be able to sort it out.
I'm reminded of the story of Hans Rosling, who talked in his extraordinary book Factfulness. About the lift in Africa when he was there with European medical students. They were all in a hurry in the hospital they were working in, and they all piled into a lift with one medical student being left behind. As the doors closed, the medical student stuck her arm in the door in order to open them again, but there are no safety features on the African doors, at least in this hospital. And the door closed, and the lift rose, and the young student nearly lost her arm.
One of the African doctors who was with Roslyn at that time went mental and couldn't understand why someone would electively stick their hand in a door. When it was explained to the African doctor that there were safety mechanisms on European lift doors, which could then be manipulated in order for you to put your hand in the door to stop it. He was absolutely gobsmacked that we would have such an amount of ridiculous over-safety where we live.
The other metaphor is laminated signs in your GP practice (or your dental practice).
‘No muddy boots’, ‘no electric scooters’, ‘please don't smoke’, ‘please don't put out your cigarettes on members of the team’.
Slowly, slowly, drip by drip, we've entirely suffocated ourselves, by over-insulation and overinsurance.
There are many, many more examples on the list that I drew up, but I can't put them here. I don't have time.
How do we reverse this? How do we understand that life is fraught with risk, but wonderful with excitement? How do we understand and get ourselves to a position where we can move forward instead of staying here terrified?
Blog Post Number - 4364