Frankly Speaking

Fearing the worst

All these fears, unpleasant as they may seem, pale into insignificance when you start to contemplate the one true fear that dare not be confronted. It is the fear to end all fears, the nightmare which no mummy can soothe away. It is the fear of change.

Now I'm not talking about when the new option - the change - is of doubtful beneficence. In such a case it's only logical that you should be wary.

In many situations, however, the fear of change is anything but logical. It can sometimes make perfect sense to change things around, to make a new start - but that nagging fear remains. It's there gnawing away at the pit of your stomach like a hungry rat. It defies all sense and reason
 
Many moons ago I had a set of vests - underwear - that had served me most faithfully but were in dire need of replacement. But I resisted replacing them. Their necks were pulled and loose, they were grey from the socks they had been washed with, the armpits were stiff and crunchy with years of antiperspirant. Yet it was a superhuman effort to give them up.

Nuts, I know.

The same goes for people who refuse to try new foods. Like the friend who won't touch avocado. He's never tasted it - he just refuses to even countenance the knobbly green beauties. It's a fear of change and nothing more, a fear of accepting a new addition to his limited diet.

If your man hums and haws when the topic of marriage is broached, it's not fear of commitment. Men have no qualms about commitment. After all, he has committed himself, life-long, to his football team and there isn't even the option of divorce for that. So next time your man doesn't give you a straight answer, don't accuse him of being scared of commitment. Accuse him of that which he is really guilty of. Accuse him of being scared of change.

Now I have absolutely no idea whether the proposed NHS reforms are good or bad. I know far too little about the subject to even venture an opinion. It's not my place and it's not my field of experience. What is my field of experience, however, is the fear of change.

Bringing all of my vast first-hand knowledge to bear, I therefore beg and plead with all you who do oppose the NHS changes to look carefully at why you oppose them.

Oppose them if you believe they will be harmful. Oppose them vehemently.

But if you are against the reforms because you are afraid of the change, then you are being dishonest with yourself. At the very least, admit the truth. You prefer the old vests.

Smile and the world smiles with you

What makes it worse is that the people called upon by their occupation to serve, like waiters and waitresses, receptionists, sales assistants, air cabin crew, customer service representatives and the like are expected to smile while they do it. It’s not enough that they must swallow their own ego and pander to the wishes of the customer; they have to look happy about doing it too.

“Yes, sir, I’ll bring you another steak. Yes sir, I know it’s the third time. No sir, I don’t have a different definition of ‘medium-rare’.” Or “I’m sorry that they’re the wrong colour madam, but as I said to you yesterday, we can’t do returns for underwear that you have already worn.” 

And all while beaming from ear-to-ear.

Is there anything more servile, anything more degrading than holding a tray of canapes while people scoff them down like you were nothing more than a particularly well-adjustable table?

The canape waiter, is of course much better than a regular table. The canape waiter is a table that smiles.

There is one occupation, however, that in all honesty should involve smiling and being kind and helpful to people, yet the staff who work in this job can often be surly, rude, abrupt and unsupportive. I speak, of course, of GP surgery receptionists.

Without tarring every receptionist with the same brush, of the three surgeries I have belonged to, every single one of them has been manned by a core of disobliging lemon-suckers.

You wouldn’t get that attitude in McDonalds, and in McDonalds you’re dealing with fast-food, not with people’s health. The vulnerable and ill who come to the surgery for help surely deserve a little understanding and a smile. Even a slight twitching of the corners of the mouth would do.

What makes GP receptionists different to, say, waiters? If a waiter can smile at the vultures descending upon his vol-au-vents, surely the GP receptionist can force at least a grimace at the old biddy with the dodgy knees. A smile can make one feel so much better, so why not indulge a poor patient with its radiant beam?

I have a feeling that the solution to this puzzling matter can be found in the results of a new survey of customer service employees, carried out by the University of Northampton Business School. Apparently, a forced smile can actually be detrimental to one’s health. Employees who have to fake cheerfulness were more likely, it seems, to feel emotionally exhausted and cynical as a result.

Working, as they do, in a healthcare environment - sometimes for years or even decades - it seems logical to suppose that GP receptionists would be particularly attuned to matters of their own health and wellbeing. Seeing as that is the case, perhaps the dourer amongst the ranks of receptionists are simply more acutely aware of the dire consequences of a fake smile.

Perhaps they just don’t want to become emotionally exhausted like the rest of the people who fake a smile for a living. So if you think about it, they’re actually doing us all a big favour with their sour demeanours and short replies. They are ensuring that they stay fit and healthy and emotionally sound so that they can serve us, the patients, as effectively and efficiently as possible.

Now in order to make sure that any unsmiling receptionists don’t lose their resolve, I suggest that we assist them in their noble mission. It is of utmost importance that we help them remain as healthy as possible in order that they can better serve the public. As good and caring patients, we have to make sure not to smile at them either, because, as you know, smiling is infectious. And when we’re worried about the receptionists’ health and wellbeing, we wouldn’t want them to be exposed to anything remotely contagious. Certainly not exposed to something as dangerous and life-threatening as a smile.