Don't touch me, I'm sick.

I read the news today oh boy, 4000.. something something something that rhymes with Lancashire. There's a problem down at the NHS, turns out that this week it has become unacceptable to have mixed sex wards in a hospital, some woman was worried that her recovery might be hindered by worrying about whether she looks good, or whether she was showing her bits to men she didn't know... like she'd never done that before. 

Now I can't help but think the NHS has better things to be worried about, life and death stuff, like life and death. To have to turn attention, resources and badly needed money to separating the sexes in wards, no doubt leading to badly needed beds going unused because they are in the wrong ward, along with all the admin and re-organisation costs going into it, because a few people are over-sensitive about who they sleep in the same room as, as a pretty sad thing to consider.

Obviously that people are self-centred is no surprise to any of us, but over tolerance of this is just as sickening. Bigger pictures are important, you're not the only person in the world, you're rarely the only person in the room. Of course, at this rate, soon you will be the only person in the room, all the time, every moment of every day, because your tolerance for the needs of others, for the needs of the many, have been whittled away by the indulgences of groups and institutions so scared of losing face, or court costs, that they'll let your germ-free, insular, arrogance dictate the way life happens around you until you finally die from rejecting your own personality.

Grown ups too.