HEART BEAT: It is just one year since I exchanged the scalpel for the pen. That sounds very pompous and what I really mean is that I have been writing these articles in The Irish Times for a year now.
This came about following a phone call from Dr Muiris Houston, initially received by my wife.
On the day in question I had been proffering advice on the organisation and running of the household. As in retirement I had lots of time and I felt that on my golf-free days my involvement in the domestic scene would be most helpful.
This was particularly so as I remembered that any domiciliary disturbance during my working years was invariably accompanied by cries of "you're never here" or worse, "what would you know about it".
Now I had lots of time and enthusiasm yet somehow my heartfelt offers of involvement were met with a kind of polite evasion.
Similarly on the day in question, I had given my two youngest daughters a "money doesn't grow on trees" type of exhortation. This involved simple things like turning off lights, radios, fires, etc.
En passant, I gave them my experiences of studying, intended as some practical help. I gained the strong impression that all of this was not regarded kindly or felt to be in the least helpful.
Both hurriedly disappeared, leaving the paternal advice unfinished and indeed in the fullness of time, unheeded.
It was at this stage that my wife told me about the call from Muiris and mentioned that it had something to do with writing an article. She added a wholly unnecessary observation that it would give me something useful to do with my time.
Even I, obtuse as I sometimes can be, realised that my well-meaning intentions of domestic involvement were greeted with consternation, indeed horror. I had, however, been willing to give it a try.
Thus rebuffed on the domestic and parental scenes I returned the call to Muiris. He succinctly explained about the HealthSupplement and how they would welcome an article on a weekly basis.
There were to be no hard and fast rules about content but I presumed that it should be in some way tangential to medicine. It was to be about 850 words and, sting in the tail, it was to be submitted electronically.
My pleas of computer illiteracy fell on deaf ears and it was implied that if I got off my arse, I could learn quite quickly. In the face of total determination on the home front that this would come to pass, I became a part-time journalist.
I now faced the problem of content. What was to be the subject matter? I did not want merely to be a critic of the health service, indeed I could contribute several volumes of such criticism but as Pope expressed: "All seems infected that th'infected spy, As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye."
Accordingly, I settled for a melange of experience, criticism and reminiscence. This allows me wander among the issues of the day and engage in fantasy, speculation and above all memory.
Sadly, the articles did not write themselves and a certain amount of discipline became necessary, reminiscent of finishing the homework in the distant past.
I had ambitions of having three or four articles written in advance, but the world, particularly the medical world, kept changing and frustrated this simple ambition.
The freedom to write and express your views is not enjoyed by many people. Listening to colleagues in the medical and nursing professions, it is abundantly clear that this is the case.
There is an attempt to stifle patient advocacy by the caring professions and to spin a web of deceit at great expense, to pretend that things are better than they are. I receive communications from all over the country portraying the true sorry situation. Sadly the authors cannot speak publicly for fear of victimisation. This is no idle fear.
The freedom to write is the freedom of advocacy. To think about and articulate to the best of your ability the problems of the day, realising that these go far beyond the travails of the health service.
I feel as do many that the prosperity of the past few years has been dissipated in show and not in substance. If the bad times come, have we made prudent provision?
I fear not and I hope I am proved wrong.
Finally on a personal level, I have been writing now for a year. I ought to be entitled to a raise under the terms of "The Programme for Posturing and Penury" or whatever the current scheme to perpetuate the Government in office is fancifully called. This is all sanctioned by the unholy Trinity (The Social Partners).
It does not seem to matter whether the country can afford it or not. I would like to be benchmarked and secure my seat on the gravy train, before the real world rudely intrudes.
• Dr Maurice Neligan is a cardiac surgeon