Sacred Cows

Anyone who visits a hospital these days, whether as a patient or otherwise, will probably hold the place and its workers in some sort of awe.  For many, visiting or staying in hospital is a frightening and stressful event. The NHS is a monster, and yet most of us to some extent owe it our very existence. I certainly do, but I am becoming more and more aware that the monster is becoming dysfunctional.  The whole system is burdened by democracy, with letters frequently duplicated, appointments cancelled over and over again, consultations usually late, and regular reports of patients being poorly treated.
While sitting waiting this morning, there were any number of employees, standing around doing what seemed to be very little. The main reception desk was unattended, the person on duty, restocking shelves of booklets while a queue of irate patients waited.  Everyone accepts the state of things and few make complaints because there is a built in reluctance to shake the boat, in the fear that you may be branded a troublemaker and so receive worse treatment.
To criticise is like farting in church.  You want to do it so very much but you are meant to show deference and respect, and so most people keep their views to themselves.
Few things these days are above criticism, even the BBC has its share of dissenters and critics, but the NHS, the Church and the world of Islam are treated with kid gloves.  Surely it is time that these institutions received radical overhauls.