Bower-ed out at last from the National Health Service talent show; no longer will we hear the strident tones of Gloria Gaynorâs âI will surviveâ, instead she is lisping the lyrics â âIâm just a fool whose intentions are good, Oh! Lord! Please donât let me be misunderstoodâ as she steps down from the national Karaoke stage. The raucous cries of âGerrâer offâ, proved too much for her in the end, the voterâs votes are in, and it is a resounding ânul pointsâ for Our Cynthia.
She has taken some of her backing group with her; the Ms Finney, her former lead singer, otherwise known as Deputy Chief Executive of the CQC, was last night sacked from her new sinecure in Nominet the domain registering company. Ms Bower had already moved onto another Quango, âSkills for Healthâ, despite her son saying âyou need to put your feet up, Mumâ when she resigned from the CQC with her Â£65,000 a year pension â the lure of another dip into the public purse proved too much for her, a couple of hundred thousand a year for guarding the interests of the NHS (Ed: Wasnât she supposed to be guarding the interests of the public who use the NHS?) by turning a blind eye when it made âstatistical blipsâ like knocking off 1200 patients who should have been home enjoying life with their families, or ignoring the whistle blower Terry Bryan when he tried to tell of the appalling abuse meted out to vulnerable patients in Winterbourne View â the final straw was the disclosure of a report, initially denied, into the deaths of 16 babies at a hospital in Cumbria.
There is only so much that one woman can do to conceal the deficiencies of the NHS.
She had done her best. One of her first acts was to save Â£44 million from the regulatorâs budget by sacking all those who might have weird notions of carrying out any investigations into the NHS. A noble act, it ensured that no one with any qualifications went anywhere near the hospitals, no inspections were done during her reign. Instead, she set up a brilliant system of unqualified bods with spikey hair and shinny suits working from home using laptops to check the self assessment forms that the hospitals sent them. She called it a âfield force modelâ and said it represented âexpertise at the intersection of the axesâ. Inspired!
When Private Eye asked via a FOI what qualifications these suits had, she said it would âtake 20 minutesâ to ask each member of her âfield forceâ and that would take them away from their âhorizon scanningâ âproactively testing intelligenceâ from the hospitals. Could any other woman have so comprehensively mastered the art of management double-speak?
With the hospitals now engaged in writing their own âend of term reportsâ, and an army of ex double glazing salesmen who couldnât spell âpremature deathâ checking them to ensure that no one said anything daft like âsorry about the 1200, couldnât be helpedâ, there was just one thing left to do:
Agree Â£11.2 million in severance pay agreements with the Treasury for disgruntled employees who might have spouted off defamatory outpourings about her beloved NHS. It is a testament to Ms Bowerâs skills at writing double speak that the Nation Audit Office have now agreed that contrary to popular belief â none of the golden handshakes actually included a âgagging clauseââ¦they were just written in such a way that the benighted employees thought they did!
âSome people we spoke to who had been offered, or accepted, compromise agreements have felt gagged.
âAn organisationâs culture, the events leading up to the person being offered an agreement, and the wording of the agreements contributed to whether the individual felt gagged.
âLegal advice to the employee is a prerequisite of making a compromise agreement legally enforceable. However, the individuals we spoke to felt that it was not generally made clear that confidentiality clauses do not prevent employees from raising legitimate public interest concerns.â
Atta girl Cynthia!
What now for âour beloved NHSâ, without Cynthia guarding its
patients reputation, will it be revealed to the world as a parallel universe where citizens enter in mediocre health, and after a few short weeks lying in their own faeces, hooked up to intravenous drips helpfully doctored with poison by the nursing staff, fed inedible food, they are discharged with incurable MRSA to die in their loved ones arms â or will Jeremy Hunt manage to find another dedicated trooper like Our Cynthia to churn out Stasi reports telling us how wonderful it all is?
I still remember the stinging condemnation from the Head of Health at Unison when someone suggested â âgaspâ! â emulating the French part-privatised system which has successfully kept me alive for the past two years.
Canât be having that can we?
Can anybody tell me which of these pictures is Cynthia Bower, comedienne, and which is Jo Brand, comedienne? I canât risk labelling them incorrectly. Ms Brand might sue me.