NHS Performance: Darzi Investigation

Terry Jermy Excerpts

Monday 7th October 2024 Commons Chamber

[Terry Jermy (South West Norfolk) (Lab)]

I am delighted to follow the hon. Member for Esher and Walton (Monica Harding), and my hon. Friend the Member for South Norfolk (Ben Goldsborough), to whom I am physically close in the Chamber and geographically close back home in Norfolk.

I am delighted to be able to deliver my maiden speech as the new Member of Parliament for South West Norfolk. I have the pleasure of representing this fantastic part of the country—the place where I was born, and where I went to school and college, bought my first house, and started my business. Until a few years ago even keen political observers could have been forgiven for not quite knowing exactly where South West Norfolk was, but I can certainly pay tribute to my predecessor, the right honourable Liz Truss, for putting us firmly on the map.

Our largest market town is Thetford, where I am from and where I had the honour of serving as mayor. Some Members may be familiar with the popular “Dad’s Army” series, which was largely filmed in Thetford—we are the original Walmington-on-Sea. If Members ever get the chance, the Dad’s Army Museum is well worth a visit, and no trip to Thetford is complete without being photographed sitting next to our life-size Captain Mainwaring statue. There are a number of “Dad’s Army” quotations that I am sure will be relevant to my role in this place. I have already said to myself many times, “Don’t panic, don’t panic!”, but I sincerely hope, Madam Deputy Speaker, that I do not give you cause to address me as “You stupid boy!”

South West Norfolk is beautiful. We have wide-open fields, forests and rivers, and a fantastic history. However, as in so many rural areas, under the surface there are challenges. I am acutely aware that one third of all children in South West Norfolk live in poverty, and there are parts that are in the top 10% for indices of multiple deprivation. Health inequalities persist, with Norfolk regarded as a dentistry desert. There is a crisis in adult social care, with far too many examples of poor-quality care provision. We have a mental health trust with long-standing challenges and placed in special measures, and the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in King’s Lynn is riddled with reinforced autoclaved aerated concrete, literally held up by more than 5,000 metal and wooden props. The challenges are stark, and these are some of the many issues on which I have pressed the Government and will continue to do so.

I think it is fair to say that I was not expecting to win my election. As a result, there are many people wondering, “Who is this person from South West Norfolk?” I do not come from a political family, but I care passionately about my local community, which is why I decided to put myself forward and join the local town council aged 22. I have taken advice and guidance from many fellow councillors over the years, but one lady in particular, Thelma Paines, mentored and guided me, and I owe much of my political upbringing to her. Sadly, Thelma passed away in 2022 and therefore did not see me reach this place, but I certainly would not be here without her encouragement and support. When she stood down as a local councillor, she would still telephone regularly, with her customary, “Listen up, duck; I’ve got something to say.”

While mentioning role models, I must take a moment to mention Baroness Gillian Shephard, our Member of Parliament from 1987 through to 2005. If there is one local MP I would like to emulate, it would be her—a fantastic example of a good constituency MP who was knowledgeable of the area and rooted in the community.

Being a Labour councillor in rural Norfolk can be tough. Fortunately for me, I had family on my side—yes, of course with support and encouragement, but I had an advantage over my rivals. My dad was the youngest of 13, and my mum had seven brothers. With nearly 40 aunties and uncles, and over 100 cousins, I am sure that I owe at least my first election victory to my grandparents’ love for one another and the resulting votes some years later.

It is because of my experiences with my own family and, more specifically, with my father that I made the decision to switch from being a local government candidate to standing for the first time in a national election. It is entirely appropriate, but also somewhat difficult for me, that I find myself here today delivering my maiden speech in a debate about our NHS. In 2013 my dad, Trevor Jermy, had a life-altering stroke aged just 55. He was an engineer. He worked hard from the day he left school at 15 and became an accomplished welder fabricator. Frankly, there was not much that my dad could not fix.

Strokes come in all shapes and sizes. My dad, having shown no warning signs, suffered a major stroke. The physical aspects were painfully easy to see and difficult for a man so used to using his hands, but there was psychological damage too. As a family, we saw up close and over a number of years the awfulness of the current process for applying for personal independence payments, dehumanising work capability assessments and how little we as a country value the contribution of carers. Disabled people and their families continue to come under repeated attack, most recently in Norfolk with changes to the minimum income guarantee.

After 10 further years with my dad, he became unwell. We tried to get him a GP appointment, which, as for so many, was difficult. When we eventually managed to get him in front of a doctor, he was sent straight to A&E with pneumonia. Then he contracted covid. The pneumonia, combined with covid, was too much for his already fragile state, and he was placed in a medically induced coma. As a family, we spent every day for the following two months visiting my dad in intensive care at West Suffolk hospital. Because of the infection risk, he was in a quarantined room and only one of us was allowed in each day for a maximum of an hour, and in full personal protective equipment. His 65th birthday passed, as did Christmas and new year. When the time came to try to wake him, we were devastated to discover that he had had a further stroke while in the coma. Some more weeks passed, but my dad never regained the cognitive and physical abilities that he had just a few months earlier, and he passed away on 29 January 2023, aged just 65.

During the long time that my dad spent in hospital, I saw painfully up close so much of our NHS. I saw ambulances routinely queuing up, the accident and emergency department always busy, and the hospital buildings looking old and tired. I saw how few staff were available during the week, and at weekends the situation was worse. I saw how his catheter bag was left for longer than it should have been, and of course, I saw the impact of this whole nightmare on my mother and the rest of our family. It was at that point that I decided that enough was enough and that, if I could, I should try to do something about it. That is when I decided to stand—not particularly because I wanted to win, but because I wanted to raise the issues. I wanted someone to acknowledge how bad things had become and how we could not carry on like this.

I have been struck by the majesty of this place since I was elected; it is utterly awe-inspiring, and I do not think I will ever quite get used to it. For all the pomp and the politics, this role carries with it a huge burden and a huge opportunity. We cannot fail to succeed. We must do better. We must at all times remember why we are here, because people in this country, particularly the most vulnerable, are absolutely relying on us to succeed, and I hope to do what I can to make their lives that little bit better.