Cosmic Justice: Matt Buckland has been sacked

Did I realize that it's been so long since I last posted? Well-no, I didn't. August has been a year of constant treatment for BPPV, so it's been difficult to sit in front of a computer. It's been difficult to sit anywhere. Period.

I told you about Matt Buckland-aka Fucky Bucky, the petulant, bullying, nasty, not very competent immunology consultant at the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel. This is the evil prat who discharged me from the hospital the week before my cancer surgery-deliberately, maliciously, gleefully, who thought that I would now be up shit's creek-and all because I stood up to him and told him not to abuse me. Surprise for Bucky: I immediately got into the immunology clinic at the Royal Free, where the team and the lead immunologist are about 1000 percent better, and I haven't been on the ward with constant chest infections-like I was at the London.

Well-I decimated Bucky Buckland and the three cripplers: Hilary Longhurst, who has now moved on to the Broomfield Hospital and is charging people privately (instead of overcharging the NHS) to cripple or kill (or both) their nearest and dearest. Sofia Grigoriadou, the ferret-faced incompetent who was in charge when I said "no gentamicin" and she chose to ignore me-and never once came to the ward in the two months I was there, unable to stand up, walk, or move-and is now lead immunology clinician and enjoying crippling and killing patients at the Royal London (they swapped Longhurst for the ferret), and, of course, Phil (not very) Bright, who has now moved to Bristol Southmead Hospital, or one of them (so I've been told by one of the nurses), where he is creating the same destruction and incompetence he enjoyed creating when he was at the Royal London.

Bucky went to the Royal London lawyers about the blog; he got nowhere. Then he tried to get me thrown off Blogger-they emailed me, and I emailed them back, told them everything, and that was the end of the bellicose Buckland's efforts. He even contacted You Tube- but so did I. That was amusing-and his efforts failed spectacularly.

Well-Bucky (who is a ringer for the Disney character "Goofy", just in case you ever run into him) left the London, presumably because he was so humiliated by the blog, and everyone at Bart's and the London knew the story. Where did he go? The Royal Free. He complained to my doctor-who is the clinical lead-about the blog, and tried to get me discharged from the Free. My doc called me in for a special consultation and told me that Bucky was working at the Free, and he told her about the blog.

I naturally said that I have nothing bad to say about anyone at the Royal Free, but I reserve the right to give Bucky the royal pasting that he deserves. She said that she would prefer it if I wouldn't mention any names (which is why I now give everyone so many different names, I forget which one I gave to whoever) Bucky gets the mention he deserves.

And now he has been sacked. Apparently, patients were complaining, his work and attitude were substandard, and he didn't like taking orders from my doc, who is more experienced and a better immunologist than Bucky, Longhurst, (no so) Bright, and ferret-faced Grigoriadou put together. She finally saw the light a few weeks ago-and sacked him.

Now that's what I call what goes around comes around: Cosmic Justice rules again!

Every August I have a bad month (emotionally). I looked back last month (always a mistake), and thought that it is now nine years since the cripplers ruined my life-and very nearly killed me. Was I compensated? Of course not: Barts Trust is famous for misdiagnosing, crippling, killing patients but never compensating them, never even issuing an apology (mind you, I would love to tell them where they can shove their apology).

But- I've reached the point where my hatred of the cripplers (and Bucky) has eased; I used it to recover more than anyone ever thought I could (or would). I still get to August and it all comes back, only not as seriously.

I remember what the other patient told me (I think I told you in the last post) about there being some PTSD, due to all the trauma nine years ago. Well-perhaps there is an element of PTSD. Or-perhaps I'm just really, really vindictive.

I think that patients who have been crippled by incompetent, vicious, uncaring doctors like the cripplers and Bucky should all get together and form a support group. There would be hundreds of us-possibly thousands of us!

Then we should get some experienced people to go to find these "doctors" and kick the shit out of them. Any time anyone wants to go to the Royal London in Whitechapel, or the Broomfield (or wherever Longhurst is these days), or Bristol (to find Phil not so Bright), and beat the living crap out of them-and ensure that they're unable to practice what they laughingly call "medicine", let me know.

I'll take you to lunch.