This morning, a distraught mum comes to see me about her 14 year-old daughter's alleged bulimia. The daughter in question is not in attendance, but mum has brought some pictures on her mobile phone (sign of the times there) for me to peruse. They are of her bedroom and indeed they are not a pretty sight. One is almost inclined to ask whether anyone was hurt in the explosion, for the scene seems to resemble nothing more than the aftermath of a roadside bomb- not that unusual for many young people of her age, I imagine, though there is one notable observation: 2 or 3 half-filled vomit bowls are dotted about the room. The room must smell absolutely hideous.
I agree to make an urgent referral to the local mental health service provider, but refuse to refer her to the Priory clinic as she requests, saying that such an "extra-contractual" referral must, according to the rules, only be made if no equivalent service is offered locally, which of course in this case it is. Mum is not best pleased, but my hands are tied. I expect a letter from the local MP before too many days have passed, unless he is also aware of the regulations; otherwise I will have to enlighten him as well.
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