Who am I?

In the heart of the NHS maze,
Where bureaucrats spend their days,
Sifting through my words with zeal,
Oh, what a farcical ordeal!

A mountain of memos, what a delight,
To shut me down, they write and write.
“Do they not have better things to do?”
I muse aloud, it’s quite the view.

Once I dubbed them “commie’s last stand,”
And since then, I’ve been banned.
Lockdown came, I voiced my doubt,
Another pin, they poked and pouted.

A dissident, in their holy eyes,
Against their sacred NHS skies.
Spy on me, if you must, I’m game,
But on public cash, oh, what a shame!

Astounding, a dossier soon to be,
For this post, just wait and see.
Fifty years in medicine, what a ride,
Chief of WHO, I’ve been worldwide.

Hundreds of centres, thousands treated,
Yet my opinion’s often unheeded.
If politicians want to sort this out,
NHS leaders must face a rout.

A big platform, my voice rings loud,
But what of the silent, unallowed?
In this toxic culture, voices choke,
The NHS reforms, no joke.

Suffocated debate, we’ve seen the end,
Fatal consequences, round the bend.
A mess it is, from start to core,
Listen up, NHS, it can’t get worse, I swore!