Really radical healthcare

I’ve just seen the letter from the Prime Minister and Deputy Prime Minister to public sector workers asking for how and where cuts should be made.
Focussing the media vocabulary on cuts is missing a trick.
It sounds as if the interest is solely budget deficit reduction.  But this is not the whole story – the solution should also deliver a good service for the public.

Today’s proposed reform to the NHS is not perfect but is long overdue.

While some things (like getting a consultant’s appointment within a fortnight, or a doctor’s appointment within two days, including after work and at the weekend) have been great, I’m still not clear how some of the targets made any sense.
Anything that resulted in patients being admitted to hospital for a few hours in order to avoid an A&E waiting time target being missed is a nonsense.
After all, if you’ve ever tried to get discharged from hospital (as we did with my baby son), it can take 12 hours and a lot of tears and turn into a Kafkaesque nightmare.
I’ve also never understood the Value for Money argument for the Primamry Care Trusts – as far as I have seen their job is to duplicate letters coming to patients from the GPs surgery and from the local hospital (an extra letter from the PCT each time I got one regarding smear test appointments, for example).

But the Private Sector Lite idea that has been proposed is really not that radical.  Look, if you truly want money to follow patient, it needs to mean a real market in the public healthcare system.
Scary rightwing idea?  Not at all.  The model here is France and Belgium.

In Belgium, an insurance-based system (with a decent fallback for those in need) is run by mutuals.
That means no expolitation by insurance companies trying to screw their own customers and avoid paying out a la USA.
While each mutal has a different “ethos” (I used Mutualite Socialiste the first time I lived there, Partena the second, and my husband Mutualite Chretienne) essentially they all do a similar job and don’t have shareholders getting rish off the good health of the scheme’s participants.

What makes the Beligan system seem so radical if you are a Brit is that any genuinely quality provider can sell services within public healthcare system.
The ground floor of most of the apartment blocks on the big boulevards in Brussels feature a number of brass plaques.
Each building offers one or two GPs, or a gynocolgist, a physiotherapist, a dermatologist, a sports therapist…

Reputation counts – GPs are not in control, offering their patient one or two choices of hospital-based appointments – they provide a referral for a specialist and the patient chooses who they want to see.  The mutual says up front how much of the treatment they will refund depending on how public/ private the specialist is – an appointment at a private hospital will be partially refunded (at say 60%) whereas one at a public hospital might be refunded at 85%.

Oh, and in Brussels, it is possible to self-refer if necessary.
The mutual might not refund the appointment, but the truly free market means that it is possible to find someone to see you if you can’tget a referral but are worried about something.

So ultimately members of the public determine where money goes.
Public health with a bigger role for the patient – now that’s radical…

Brussels mon amour

 photo from fab site http://bars.blogueur.info

Have just had a day working in Brussels for the first time since February 2007. 

The sun was shining, it was warm, I even managed to squeeze in a swift coffee in a street cafe (cheers Jon!) before dashing to the Eurostar that takes me practically door to door and just about got me back in time not to be fined by the nursery.

There are many things that annoyed me about Brussels when I lived there – from the randomness of the cobblestones which procluded heels on all but the most important occasions, to not being able to buy stamps anywhere but the post office which was never open when I was free to go, to the need to return to the UK to go “proper clothes shopping”,  the water supply being so cleaned with chlorine to meet water quality standards that it upset my skin (and my husband’s), to the weeks of delay to get cable TV fitted…

But I loved the restaurants, the people I met including some of my truest and best friends, the real sense of community in being an expat, the sort of apartments available on a reasonable budget when compared to London, the way that TVBrussel kind of made sense after midnight even though it broadcasts in a language I don’t speak, the sort of jobs I did when I lived there – which I’d find nigh on impossible to do these days when I work part-time.

Oh Brussels I’ve missed you. 
Even though your metro system got so messed up earlier that I almost missed my train.

I really enjoyed the meeting I was at too – a combination of Brussels residents and interlopers like me, but conducted in a proper Brussels Eurocrat manner, recognition of each other’s expertise, positivity, genuine seeking of a conciliation and compromise helping each as much as possible to get what they were looking for. 
It can be hard to explain sometimes why that is a good thing when to many people here in the UK compromise is a dirty word, and the word Brussels is itself anathema.

Life in the UK is good, familiar, I know (roughly) how to handle local bureaucracy (probles here tend to be less with public authorities, more with the private companies that – oh, I’ll post about Northern Rock another day…). 
But life in Brussels was fun, oddly exotic and dipping my toes in the EU politics pool again today just reminded me why I enjoyed it so much before.  Perhaps more so now, having had a break from it all.

A recurring theme of my personal reflection blog posts is that I have a life with a husband and a son and a house and a job and that these things are good and I would not have it otherwise.  Life in Brussels now would not be the same as it was for us before as we’re parents and the hard bits of life (which to be honest are mainly logistical!) would still be with us. 
And -as the second earner- the idea of upping sticks to Brussels because I might want to is just not realistic.

But today, just for a minute, I felt properly like EU me again. And I liked it.

I wonder whether our toddler would be good at Flemish?        

PS apologies for the stream of consciousness style, but the title should’ve been a warning :)

Feel like dancing? Try Antwerp Central Station

Just seen
“>this
via an NLP practitioner’s website – it’s a stunt for “How do you solve a problem like Maria?” – the search for a cast for the Sound of Music in Belgium. I know it’s from March, but sometimes it takes a while to find stuff on youtube…

Flash mobs seem to be a very effective way of advertising.  But I don’t care it’s an advert. Definitely makes me smile.