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Soaring numbers of doctors are earning six-figure sums for overtime on top of their annual salaries, an investigation has found.At least 126 received £100,000 or more last year for agreeing to work extra hours amid sweeping NHS cutbacks.But due to a flawed contract drawn up 14 years ago under Labour, consultants are entitled to charge sky-high hourly rates for overtime work.Hospitals have no choice but to agree to such fees as there are few other medics willing to do the shifts. Those who’d toured with him, the only ones to whom he could have talked about this and have them understand, had already taken their leave. ) The Skeleton Man, though, hadn’t been that lucky. Not much reminiscing got done, except in their own heads. But those were all gone, all of it, every scrap of memorabilia, each battered souvenir, lost to rundown apartments he’d abandoned with rent unpaid, and evictions which had left his possessions dissolving in the rain, and small-town pawnshops he’d see the once but never again. To that above all those physical manifestations of his memories had been sacrificed, sometimes willingly, sometimes not, as his path narrowed to whatever this life of his had turned out to be. He could almost see them–the faces in the front row filled with amazement, kid after kid shocked to see what coursed through him as he sat in that chair showered with sparks, faces which would soon themselves be literarily shocked as he tapped their brows and shouted in the tent then what he whispered in the small borrowed bedroom now– “Live forever! All these years later, he raised the sword high above his head, and there he was, in front of thousands of people blurred together by memory, forgettable faces with no names to go with them. Electrico saw it then, the face of the kid who’d come back, the face of the kid who’d brought him a magic trick, the face of a kid he’d welcomed into the tent and introduced to his friends, the face of a kid which was also in a former life the face of a friend, a friend who’d died in his arms in the Ardennes Forest in 1918, during the Great War. They were always asking to take off, believing that hitting the road with a carnival was the solution to whatever their problems happened to be. Oh, he’d been tired, and he’d desperately wanted to nod off, but a life spent on the road had taught him that was never to be done. Electrico had seen him, when he visited to reminisce about the old days, the man could barely speak above a whisper. Electrico wished he could show the kid who he really was, and why, wished he could explain it all in the way he’d never been able to do for his son, whose empathy had been crushed by having to live through it. And if only he still owned the costume he’d once worn, red silk with yellow piping zigzagging down the sleeves to make it look as if lightning was about to come out of his fingertips. He held it out before him as he used to do at each show–more an extension of his arm than a piece of metal–and closed his eyes. Ray hadn’t been the first to come back–kids were always ditching their parents and returning to say the things they wouldn’t dare unless they were alone with him–but he was the first to come back who didn’t also ask to join him. Electrico went up to his room–slowly, as all stairs were taken slowly these days–where he fell asleep immediately, a thing which he hadn’t allowed himself in the park. ” “It seemed as if you needed me,” said Ray, pausing in his prancing to look up. I doubted you’d have been able to on your own.” Ray flipped the sword in his hand so that its hilt was now pointed up toward the top of the stairs. He knelt, laying the sword down sideways across the bottom step, the blade so long it stuck out through the bannister. All he could think was — how is it that Josh missed seeing Ray? Electrico could think of anything to say, Josh noticed the sword on the bottom step, and his expression darkened. You can find all episodes of 6′ over at the official site as well as on i Tunes and Stitcher. Electrico had once believed he was going to live forever. The Fat Lady had been the first to go, back when they were both still on the road. Those wheezy lungs had kept them both too focused on the future, short though it was, to enjoy wandering through the past. Electrico was never quite sure exactly what had happened to him. When he showed up for the memorial service, the relatives wouldn’t even look him in the eye. OK, so the hand which had once held the sword shook, and during the night, he often had to get up half a dozen times to piss, and when he woke in the morning, sometimes–not always, but sometimes–he wasn’t sure where he was. But there was one face which stood out from all the rest. Or was that last but a lie he’d told, the kind of thing you cough up to a rube to keep them happy and empty their pockets? Splitting from an abusive household could be a good thing, sure, Mr. He kept waiting for the kid to ask him, too, ask for help in running away, the way he himself had once asked for help from another who’d earlier carried his name. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to nap while there, only listen to the crickets and look at the stars, both those present that night and those which existed only in memory.
This means that if hospitals need doctors to work out-of-hours, or do any work in addition to their agreed ten sessions, they must pay them very high rates.
Freedom of information responses from 75 of the 152 hospital trusts in England showed that doctors were paid £203million in overtime in 2016/7.
As only half of all hospitals replied, the true overtime figure could top £400million.
But people will be rightly angry that some consultants are pocketing in excess of £100,000 in extra payments, while local services are being cut.’Meg Hillier, chairman of the Commons public accounts committee, said doctors willing to work overtime could ‘name their price’.
The Labour and Co-operative MP said many hospitals were so understaffed they struggled to find evening and weekend cover. ‘On Saturday night, in a London A&E, for instance, you can probably name your price.’Separate figures obtained by the Mail in February found that one doctor in Preston was paid £456,000 in overtime in 2015/16.