Having recently returned home to England from a nine-year stint across the pond, I've spent the last few months reading articles, asking questions and drawing diagrams. Earnestly I've been trying, and more often failing, to get my head round the various NHS organisations and how their remits intertwine and overlap as they desperately strive to work together to provide and improve health and care across England.
My first observation is that it's complicated, so complicated in fact that at times I've found myself scratching my head and repeatedly muttering to myself one of President Trump's most astute and truest statements, 'Who knew healthcare could be so complicated?'
Someone somewhere once said you can't teach an old dog new tricks. But who said anything about new tricks?
I recently had the immense pleasure of visiting my family in Australia. I'll admit, it's a familiar route for me, but this time was different; I was on a mission. I had arranged that while I was in Melbourne I would film my Grandpa for a TEDxNHS talk. He is quite something. Old Jewish Grandparents are supposed to bore their friends kvelling over their average to over-achieving grandchildren but the tables have most definitely turned in this case.
My grandfather was one of the first NHS surgeons, becoming a consultant ophthalmologist in North Wales in 1948; my father was a consultant physician in London and Bristol from the early 1970s; and I - well, I suppose you could say I am a consultant of sorts at Kaleidoscope, which is not part of the NHS but functions, we hope, as a benign disruptor in its ecosystem.
Seventy years after its birth, the NHS continues to exert a strong gravitational pull on my family, and on so many other families.
And my family is an early example of another NHS phenomenon that has grown in importance over the generations - and, like the NHS as a whole, is perhaps at a turning point. Since its inception, the NHS has been a generous employer of migrants.