There’s no justice, just us, goes the old gag.
But the state of justice at the moment, and the battle that some folk face to achieve it, is no laughing matter.
That’s why I tip my hat to folk like Pat Kelly and everyone like him fighting injustice, indifference and the abuse of power.
Pat’s tribulations featured in The Courier this week, revealing his fight for justice after the rogue NHS surgeon Sam Eljamel condemned him to a life of pain after a scandalously botched operation.
Graeme Strachan’s interview with Pat is a harrowing read.
The Scottish legal authorities should move heaven and earth to bring Eljamel back here to answer for his misdeeds in both civil and criminal law courts.
Bureaucratic machine
I’ve known Pat since his early days as a DJ and also over many years as the cheery meet-and-greet bloke welcoming folk into the Tannadice boardroom on match days.
But in his latter days as mine host at games his natural bonhomie and bravado had to work overtime to disguise the pain and suffering he bore every second of the day, as he propped himself up on the walking stick permanently attached to a previously fit body.
The botched operation in 2007 at the hands of a substandard surgeon, which almost cost Pat his life, shows how long and wearying and mentally draining the battle for justice can be when individuals go up against the bureaucratic machine that exists to protect those within its rarefied atmosphere.
I bow to those folk who are prepared to fight the rich and powerful and the institutions who have wronged them because it takes courage and stamina and fortitude in abundance.
It requires a staying power way beyond that which many folk possess and that’s no criticism – simply a fact that the uphill battle can make the plight of Sisyphus seem like a walk in the park.
That mythological king was sentenced to roll a huge boulder up a hill in perpetuity, with it rolling back down every time he neared the top.
That’s how it must feel to Pat and the others who have suffered life-changing damage.
Organisations in self-interest mode
Another grim case is that of the woman, also highlighted in The Courier recently, who has suffered mentally and physically waiting over eight years for essential surgery to address a vaginal prolapse.
Her ordeal was highlighted by MSP Michael Marra who said: “Scottish Government ministers have ignored her and NHS Tayside has neglected her as, year by year, her health has left her.”
The ability of the powerful and the wealthy, and institutions, to bury the little people under layers of official administrative and procedural red tape to test their patience beyond their limits is long established.
The sheer resilience and determination to fight when the odds are so clearly stacked against the individual is a test which many folk find themselves unequal too.
Why wouldn’t it prove to be so?
In trying to live a normal life with all its everyday attendant problems while at the same time taking on the monster of a machine like a health board – or any other big administration which appears ambivalent, apathetic, and unconcerned about the individual – is a Herculean task and not for the faint-hearted or easily dissuaded.
By their very nature, such organisations and those who wield power and influence operate in self-survival and self-interest mode.
Those brave souls who blow the whistle in the public interest, despite supposed protections offered to them, can testify to how quickly and ruthlessly they’re sidelined and ostracised after revealing uncomfortable truths which threaten reputations and comfortable salaries.
‘Once they’re gone, they’re gone for good’
I was sorry to see that my favourite Dundee restaurant had closed.
Ciao Sorrento in Union Street has shut after 25 years.
There have been a few restaurants going the same way in recent times with Bellini’s in Commercial St also closing its doors as has the pizzeria Mozza in Whitehall St.
With the cost-of-living crisis affecting everyone, it’s a luxury to eat out these days and yet it’s one of life’s great pleasures.
The ambience at Ciao Sorrento was cosy and intimate and the service and the quality of the cuisine served up by owners Tomasso and his wife Joanna was superb.
I often thought when I ate there that it was an all hands to the pump non-stop affair to run a small independent restaurant and it certainly wouldn’t be a get rich quick business.
I’m not sure how we do it but I think we have to find ways to help smaller businesses like restaurants survive and prosper.
In the current economic climate they’re really up against it – and once they’re gone they’re often gone for good.
Conversation