K8 the GR8

Archive for January 20th, 2008

It’s an expensive old business, being sick.

This won’t be another rant about hospital services here in Ireland, there is plenty of material out there on the subject. This rant is about greedy fat cats making a ton of cash at the expense of sick people and their visitors.

Mothers like to spend hours on end by their childrens bedside when they are sick. Wives like to hold vigils by their husbands after operations. Friends sometimes like to drop into a sick buddy in hospital with grapes and magazines. No surprises here! What surprises me, is that some bright spark decided that there is potentially a lot of money to be made from this sort of concern that people feel for their loved ones, and have developed an empire on their pain.

For example, I’ve been trying to visit The Accidental Terrorist in a hospital near Glasnevin every day. He had an operation last Friday, and it’s expected that he won’t be kicked out for another four or five days. The easiest route for me is via the M50, over the tollbridge, all the way up to the Ballymun exit. (Have you seen Ballymun lateley?! The arsehole of Dublin has had a serious facelift, and is now Ireland’s first ‘Fair Trade’ town, whatever that means. Everything still shuts at 10pm though, so the fear is still very much alive I guess.) I then drive south to the hospital and park up.

So, that’s €4.00 for a round trip, there and back via the tollbridge alone. Seeing as I’m travelling so far, it makes sense to stay a while. If I stay for four hours, this will cost me €8.00. Four hours goes by pretty fast if you’re visiting someone you love and miss very much, but it’s all I can afford thanks to Park Rite and their like.

To visit TAT every day for six days, I face costs of at least €50. To include the tollbridge, this rises to €72. Each return journey uses almost half a tank of diesel, which brings the cost to a whopping €192!!!

I don’t mind the diesel. It’s worth it to travel to a respected and reliable surgeon. I don’t even mind the tollbridge, for the M50 is a wonderful road (seriously!) as long as you only use it between the hours of 11pm and 3am. It’s the car park charge that gets me fuming. Two euros an hour to park at a hospital?!? Scabby bastards.

I fought African lions to find the perfect choir. I practised the bongos for hours on end in the back of The Accidental Terrorist’s van. I studied Coltrane until his notes bled out of my ears and paid Santana for guitar lessons with endless twisted sexual favours, but in the end, it was totally worth it.

Here’s my CD. Dave Fanning just phoned and told me he wanted me to have his babies, which was a nice compliment. I hope they don’t overplay it too much on the radio. I hate that.