The announcement of the closure of Spilsby Surgery has sent shockwaves through our town and surrounding villages. For many, the surgery was more than just a building – it was a lifeline. News that it has been closed temporarily has understandably provoked anger, fear, and deep concern about access to healthcare in this already under-served part of Lincolnshire.
But today, at the flu and Covid vaccination session organised by Lincolnshire Co-operative at the Franklin Hall, those emotions boiled over in a way that left some shaken. The session was intended to be straightforward: appointments booked, people vaccinated efficiently, and an essential public health service delivered. Instead, it was mobbed by people walking in off the street demanding a vaccination without a booking. The result was long queues, missed appointment slots for those who had done the right thing and booked properly, and reports of tempers flaring. Meanwhile, outside the separate Spilsby Pharmacy, long queues formed and reports circulated of a physical incident inside.
Many of those arriving without appointments carried themselves with a sense of entitlement, insisting that their health needs gave them the right to skip the queue. But the reality is that everyone attending such a clinic has health needs – that is the very reason they were there. Claiming one’s condition makes them more deserving than others is unfair and undermines the collective nature of public health services. Uncomfortable as it is to admit, the majority of the disruption came from those over the age of 50, whose impatience and demands only added to the strain on staff and volunteers.
There are, of course, people in our community who desperately need their prescriptions and who are genuinely struggling to obtain them. For some, it truly can be a matter of life and death. But while that reality should never be downplayed, it is also true that many of the most vocal complaints do not fall into that critical category. Perspective matters.
It is worth pausing here. The staff and volunteers on the front line are our neighbours, working long days under immense pressure, often for modest pay, trying to keep essential services going. They did not close the surgery. They did not design the system. They did not choose to stretch rural healthcare so thin. Yet they are the ones bearing the brunt of our frustration.
Yes, anger at the situation is justified. The closure of Spilsby Surgery raises serious questions about rural health provision, equity, and how communities like ours are meant to access care. People are to blame, and the blame should be apportioned appropriately. But anger directed at the wrong people will not solve this crisis. It only hurts those who are trying to keep the system going for the rest of us.
What Spilsby needs now is not to turn on itself, but to turn that frustration into collective voice and constructive pressure. The surgery’s closure is a symptom of a much wider problem: underfunded, overstretched, and centralised healthcare that leaves rural communities at the end of the queue. If today’s scenes tell us anything, it is that healthcare in rural Lincolnshire is not just fragile – it is at breaking point.
In the midst of this, it is important to acknowledge those who are stepping up to help. Our local District Councillor, Ellie Marsh, has been particularly effective in communicating between residents and those working to remedy the situation, ensuring information flows both ways. Her efforts deserve recognition and appreciation.
So let us be angry, yes. But let us be angry in the right direction. Write to your MP, whose party had 14 years to sort out the mess but only succeeded in making matters worse, and will doubtlessly pass the buck. Ask questions of NHS Lincolnshire. Push for solutions that ensure access, not just promises. And in the meantime, let us also remember that those still working on the front line – in pharmacies, in community healthcare, in the 111 service – deserve not our abuse, but our gratitude.
Because when the dust settles, it is those people who will still be here, holding together the threads of care that remain.