A New England #1: Healthcare

This week, I've decided to take up lovesnothing's challenge to become Prime Minister for five days. Finally, someone has given me free rein to implement my own personal policies for the nation, starting from today.

Boy, are you all in for it.

But before we do the immensely fun blindfolds-against-the-wall bit, we're going to take a look at the thorny issue of healthcare. Specifically, the NHS. It's a little-known fact, even among close friends of mine, that I used to work for the NHS. Thankfully not in any capacity that involved me being responsible for peoples' lives or general wellbeing in any way (it's amazing how few future employers consider a mountain of corpses at the rear of a hospital to constitute a positive reference) but as a vital cog ticking away in the system, I helped people to help themselves.

Consequently, I've always managed to find a bit of camaraderie with other employees, both current and former, of the National Health Service. We've always had a bit of territorial pride going; while we knew our employer wasn't perfect - what employer is? - we also knew that it was vital to the basic welfare of this country. We could have a laugh about the NHS between ourselves, but would defend it to the death against attacks from the outside.

Any road, there's another big Tory shake-up going on at the moment, and they're cutting services like nobody's business. They're claiming to listen to what doctors and nurses have to say, but I'd argue that that's not enough. Nowhere near enough.

FOR MY FIRST GOVERNMENTAL SHAKE-UP, I WOULD MAKE EVERY PROSPECTIVE MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT WORK FOR THE NHS IN A HOSPITAL FOR SIX FULL MONTHS.

No excuses. No exceptions. Even a sick note won't help you here. As an MP, you're expected to be caring for those people you represent, surely? What better way to prepare yourself for that care than by talking to them while they're infirm, helping them heal, maybe mopping up after them on occasions when their body's failed? And on occasions when there's just no helping to be done, maybe you should stand beside those who try desperately to save lives every day of the week, and watch one that they can't save.

I guarantee that you will emerge from this experience a more robust character, and with a better understanding of the heroes whose own lives lie in your hands. Are you still prepared to sign the paper to cut yet more frontline services? Or have you now started to feel the pride that comes with the territory of working for a selfless national institution?

So, how's that for a first act as leader? Chin up, Cam! You're going home in a St John's Ambulance!