Everyone for everyone

This Human Rights Day, on witnessing a genocide from my hospital bed

When in late October I was brought round after twenty-six hours knocked out, my body had become public property, and I was subject to the strange rhythms of the ICU, and the opinions of a phalanx of clinicians, and the physical constraints of the reams of tubes that had begun protruding from me overnight. Other people might have relaxed into the hum of …