All quiet on the Manor House front- the NHS, the National Health Service is our national treasure.

All quiet on the Manor House front- The NHS, the National Health Service is our national treasure.

It's all quiet on the Manor House front. It's absolutely freezing out there and the temperature seems to be dropping like a stone. Soon we may have to go into hibernation. Besides if it's OK for hedgehogs then why not the entire UK population consisting of roughly 60 million shivering souls and those who just can't keep warm but try unsuccessfully.

My personal and fond memory is of my wonderful grandma who, when the cold set in, would drift over to the central heating, plant her warm and loving hands on the radiator, smile beamingly and then simply embrace the warmth. The cold wintry weather in Britain now seems to be a national pre-occupation. You can set your watch by it and it's more or less a standard topic of discussion in every home, office, school, factory or any location north of Watford.

Today's main news revolved around the NHS and the severely critical state of the National Health Service. Since its birth in 1948 the NHS has provided the whole of Britain with a vitally important service that can never be taken for granted. But now the NHS is struggling in a way that it might have done in the past but once again finds itself in the most embarrassing of all financial predicaments.

Governments may have come and gone but hospitals and doctors surgeries have been stretched to breaking point because the medical profession just can't cope, doctors and surgeons are required to work, quite literally. through the night and day with little in the way of substantial reward or appreciation and nobody seems to know what to do next.

You may have heard this before but the NHS is just groaning under the cumbersome weight of  bad pay and conditions. We've been here before because the National Health Service simply can't manage with shortages of beds an ever present problem, elderly and infirm people  criminally neglected in draughty corridors and  people  just left to languish in complete isolation. Crucial resources have simply not been forthcoming and waiting lists have reached a chronically high level. Of course you've heard all of this before but the crisis does seemed to have reached epidemic proportions. This may be a case of familiarity breeding contempt but if Bevin were still alive you suspect he'd be deeply ashamed of the current mismanagement at management level.

But then again hasn't it always been a case of lack of funding and money when the NHS finds itself under the microscope? More so than ever on cold nights such as these Britain cries out for a National Health Service that provides proper pastoral care, constant supervision for those in need and an environment that is comfortable and conducive to a full recovery.

The days of warm and benevolent matrons gently gliding around wards are now something that essentially belong to the 1950s. Of course nurses have always been thoroughly dedicated and conscientious but your heart goes out to those who find themselves working all hours without ever really feeling as though they've done enough.

So it's time to think of our beleaguered medical profession. It's time to deliver an NHS that is properly funded, maintaining the very highest standards that we've come to expect, skill and efficiency of the most professional kind, doctors and nurses who feel valued and cherished and top class surgeons who, when they enter theatre, are fully entitled to have all the right equipment to hand. This is one issue which is so much more deserving of our attention. It may be the time for the Government of the day to roll up its sleeves and fight for the survival of the NHS.