Amazing NHS negligence

A traumatised mother is suing the hospital where she says she had to endure the agony of a caesarean birth without pain relief. Sarah Carberry, 27, was given an epidural injection but claims it did not work. She said she screamed in pain as she felt every stroke of the surgeon's knife until her husband Chris demanded the operation be halted. She was then offered a general anaesthetic but decided for the baby's sake to carry on.

Thankfully, her 6lb daughter Ruby was delivered safely and is progressing well. But the first-time mother says the 40-minute ordeal has destroyed her dream of having a big family because she is too afraid of giving birth again. She and her husband, a finance manager, say they have yet to receive an apology and have instructed a solicitor to sue.

It was in June that Mrs Carberry, a beauty therapist from Skelmersdale, Lancashire, was admitted to Ormskirk & District General Hospital when her waters broke two weeks early. Doctors said labour could not be induced and she would need an emergency caesarean. She was taken into the operating theatre and given an epidural - an injection into the lower spine which feeds in anaesthetic through a tube. She said she knew immediately that it had not worked. 'I said I could still feel my legs and wiggle my toes, which they said was normal. Then they pricked my arm with a pin and I felt it. I said, "This hasn't worked, I'm going to feel the knife".

They said I was just stressed. It was only when they cut my womb open and I was screaming in agony that they finally took me seriously. 'I was shaking in pain. I was convinced I would die, but no one would listen to me. They continued until my husband said, "Stop the operation".'

An epidural is administered while the patient is sitting up. It is thought that the tube kinked when Mrs Carberry lay down and the anaesthetic failed to reach her spine. Suspecting what had happened, the anaesthetist attempted to top up the solution but Mrs Carberry said the glass container which holds the liquid shattered, and he said: 'There's nothing else we can do for you.'

At that point she refused a general anaesthetic. 'My body was going into shock and my husband was livid, but the last thing I wanted was to be knocked out when I didn't trust the medical team that were operating on me,' she said. 'The female surgeon said she could see the baby and needed to get it out. I told them just to get the baby out. 'I gripped a medic's hand throughout the operation and did breathing exercises, all the time asking them how long the operation was going to take, to focus my mind on the end. It was excruciating. 'They had to stitch up muscle, tissue, layers of fat and the skin. I felt it all. It was awful. 'Then they put my baby on my chest, which I don't think they should have done. I wasn't in control of my actions. I could have hurt her.'

Mrs Carberry was allowed home with Ruby after four days but had to be readmitted a week later as the caesarean scar was infected. She spent a week in hospital while her husband looked after Ruby at home.

Two weeks later, she said, she had a meeting with the head anaesthetist and head of midwifery at the hospital, and was told an investigation had been opened into her treatment but has heard nothing more from the trust. 'No one came to see me after the operation to explain anything. A few days later a doctor came to see me and said, "We're sorry this has happened to you".

'I wanted to have a large family. My parents have both died, and I rely on my brothers because of that. 'But I can't have another child now. What happened in that operating room will be with me for ever.'

A spokesman for Ormskirk hospital said: 'Our maternity unit delivers over 3,000 babies per year. The vast majority of new mothers are very pleased with our service. We have met with Sarah Carberry and are aware of some of the allegations being made. 'As with all complaints this is being treated very seriously and we have asked her to formalise her concerns so a full investigation can take place.' [Mealy-mouthed scum!]

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RomneyCare: The former Massachusetts governor's signature "achievement" already looks destined for the emergency room

Bay State political observers call RomneyCare "The New Big Dig." Like downtown Boston's notorious roadway project that ran $12.2 billion beyond its $2.6 billion budget, RomneyCare is becoming a huge fiscal sinkhole.

RomneyCare has reduced Massachusetts' uninsured population from an estimated 657,000 to about 307,000. Among these 350,000 newly covered people, some 174,000 joined Commonwealth Care, a government-supported plan that insures families of four up to 300 percent of the federal poverty line, or roughly $63,000 in annual income. Another 55,000 people joined Medicaid, which is funded by local and federal tax dollars. Only about 18,000 have purchased private insurance.

Given these brigades of new beneficiaries, the Pacific Research Institute's Sally Pipes writes that "the program is in intensive care, surviving only on massive infusions of other people's money." The numbers are staggering:

RomneyCare should cost taxpayers $625 million in 2008. That's $153 million, or 32 percent, beyond this year's original $472 million appropriation. For 2009, costs may hit $869 million, or another $244 million, 39 percent premium above today's already vertiginous spending curve.

Unfortunately, Massachusetts residents love "free" and cheap healthcare, at someone else's expense. As usual these days, everybody parties, and then taxpayers spend the next morning collecting the empty bottles and cleaning the overflowing ashtrays. This mop-up will cost at least $129 million in new taxes, as Romney's Democratic successor, Deval Patrick, proposes. As the July 29 Wall Street Journal reports, this includes one-time (one hopes) taxes of $33 million on insurers, $28 million on medical providers, and another $33 million on businesses.

Some 307,000 residents remain uncovered. So, RomneyCare still is not "universal," as advertised, despite the plan's cornerstone -- a mandate that requires every individual in Massachusetts to have health insurance. ("I like mandates," Romney chirped at a January 5 GOP presidential debate.) Among these uninsured, state legislators excused about 130,000 from the mandate. Tens of thousands more either ignore this law or pay annual fines of up to $219, and rising. Why? Such penalties are cheaper than health coverage, particularly now that so many frustrated insurers have fled Massachusetts. Eventually, some of these people will get sick. Invoice the taxpayers, yet again.

Compulsion aside, RomneyCare also features subsidies, regulations, and an ominous-sounding authority called The Connector. Likewise, ObamaCare involves Johnsonesque controls, rather than market-driven choice and competition.

McCain, in contrast, wisely proposes expanded Health Savings Accounts plus tax credits ($2,500 for individuals; $5,000 for families) to help Americans purchase insurance that they -- not their employers -- would own, manage, and transport throughout their lives and careers. McCain would let Americans buy coverage across state lines. Stiffly regulated New Yorkers, for instance, could buy simpler, cheaper plans from, say, Colorado-based insurers.

McCain, to his eternal credit, opposed President Bush's needlessly extravagant Medicare drug entitlement which, like RomneyCare, marched 180 degrees the wrong way. McCain now has standing to criticize Obama's Washington-driven health reform.

Most incredibly, when Romney signed this legislation, it reserved Planned Parenthood a slot on the 15-member MassHealth Payment Policy Advisory Board. While pro-lifers have no such guarantee, abortion advocates by law have a place at the table that Romney built.

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