I have a confession to make. My heart is broken. I am too crestfallen, too sad, too melancholy and too downright depressed to write a proper column today. Why? Because I have just read Louis Deguara’s lament on the front page of today’s The Times, that’s why. I have heard our former health minister’s profound cry of anguish, I have glanced over the edge into the bottomless pit of his despair, and oh! The horror, the horror...

Louis Deguara, it seems, was “very hurt” by John Dalli’s comments about the unacceptability of waiting lists at Mater Dei Hospital. “Scandalous”, the new Health Minister called them... adding that “it is not acceptable for people to wait five years for an operation.”
I mean, honestly. Who on earth can blame Deguara for being so profoundly hurt? After all, as Health Minister he slaved tirelessly for 10 whole years to make sure that Malta’s waiting lists were the longest and most state-of-the-art in Europe. Just for some little whippersnapper replacement minister to simply waltz into his office, fresh from four years in disgrace and exile, and accuse him of having done nothing whatsoever to actually improve the standards of healthcare in this country. Can you imagine? It’s almost as though “improving the standards of healthcare” was somehow part of the job description of a Health Minister to begin with. Whatever next?

And there’s more. Newly installed health minister John Dalli took one step beyond simply implying that his predecessor was a useless waste of ministerial space. He even had the unmitigated temerity to claim that: “primary care services have to be expanded”.
“Many matters which are not of an acute nature should no longer be treated in hospital,” Dalli said in parliament on Wednesday... shortly before discovering America, shouting “Eureka”, and registering his latest invention (a round, spinning and perfectly useless object called “the wheel”) with the US patents office.
But strangely, while Louis Deguara howled in protest against the waiting lists accusation, he had nothing to say about this astonishing, unbelievable and earth-shatteringly ironic calumny.
So allow me to articulate his indignation on his behalf.

Excuse me, Mr Dalli, John... but when you talk of “primary care services”, are you by the remotest of chances referring to the so-called “polyclinics” that you yourself downsized and even closed down in 2004? Are you suggesting that the selfsame service you so unwisely discontinued four years ago, is now the one thing that will cure all our ailing healthcare service’s deficiencies?
Because if you are, I honestly think you should book yourself in on the waiting list for a liposuction operation to reduce the size of your CHEEK.

Oh, and while I have your attention, there’s this tiny, weenie question I’ve been meaning to ask for ages. How, exactly, do you plan to: a) reduce waiting lists; b) cut down on expenditure on medicines; c) reduce social cases at Mater Dei; and d) maintain a state hospital whose daily running costs amount to over €100 million a year... at a time when your own Prime Minister has a) promised to revise the tax bands, losing €46.6 million a year; b) already reneged on an electoral commitment to subsidise first-time house buyers, and c) said he will resign if his government introduces any charges for any aspect of public health?

But back to the much-maligned Louis Deguara. Having shared in the former health minister’s agony and commiserated with him upon the grave injustice of his outing as a chronic non-achiever, I feel I also have to remind him that much of the resentment he is currently experiencing is entirely of his own making. After all, Deguara was health minister for 10 whole years. Surely, then, he could have found 10 measly little minutes to give his replacement a proper handover before vacating the premises at the Health Ministry?
God, I would have given anything to be a fly on the wall at Palazzo Castellania in Merchant Street, Valletta, that day... when Deguara welcomed Dalli to the ministry, and took on him on a tour of the premises on his last day in office.
I can see it all now:

“Oh hello, John, welcome to your new home. I admit it looks a little empty and quiet at the moment; that’s because I’ve taken most of my collection of caged birds back home with me to Naxxar. But as a token of goodwill I’ve decided to let you have my prize budgerigar, Adeodata Pisani. Remember to top up its water trough at least twice a day, especially in summer. Oh, and don’t forget to change the newspaper cage-lining at least once a week (I recommend MaltaToday; after all, it’s crapped on me often enough).
“As for pictures, you can have my FKNK wall-calendar, as I suspect I won’t be needing it anymore. Admittedly it’s for the year 1998, but seeing as time sort of has stood still in this ministry since then, it shouldn’t make too much of a difference. Oh, and I almost forgot. You see that big white thing on your desk? It’s called a ‘computer’. Austin set it up for me a few years ago; he said I might find it useful. And he was right, you know. For instance, if you click this icon over here, a programme called ‘Solitaire’ opens up. My personal record is 725, but don’t forget: I’ve had at least 10 years to perfect my game strategy...
“As for the rest of the stuff on the computer, I wouldn’t bother too much with it if I were you. Apparently there’s this thing called ‘email’, which my personal assistant tells me is full of requests for information about a certain ‘Mater Dei’. (Apparently that’s the name of a hospital). But anyway, I got her to install an automatic reply, saying ‘I am out of the office at the moment, but as I most likely wouldn’t have been able to help you anyway, you may as well just call OPM instead...’
“Right. There’s not much else you need to know, except for two things. If the nurses’ union threatens to strike over their pay package, working conditions, or your failure to have ever renegotiated a collective agreement after 15 whole years… DON’T MEET THEM, whatever you do. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. If you meet them, you will be forced to give them more money for less work. Next thing you know everyone else will be wanting a pay rise, too, and let’s face it: we can only afford to keep the consultants happy...
“Meanwhile, if anyone asks you about migration from St Luke’s... or whether outmoded work practices will be carried over lock, stock and barrel to the new hospital... or pretty much anything to do with Mater Dei at all... you simply say ‘That’s not my portfolio: ask the Finance Minister.’ Don’t ask me why, but it seems to work every single time...

“There, that’s about it really. Easiest job in the world. And before you know it, an entire decade will have gone by, and nobody will have even noticed that you were once responsible for the very same hospital we are about to discover we couldn’t really afford in the first place.
“OK, I’m off now. Good luck, and... Sahha!”