“We apologise for this late arrival...”

 So now it is 2025 and I have decided to return to a refreshed blog. The last year has been a trial of my (mainly physical) health. I needed steroids to dampen down polymyalgia rheumatica which brought on steroid induced diabetes.  I am now steroid free, the blood sugars on my low carb, full fat diet are much lower (see freshwell) and my weight has stabilised at what is about right for my height.  During all this I've awaited two relatively minor surgeries. The NHS is so good it is said when an emergency arises. The wait for non-emergency (elective) surgery, is often long which is frustrating, and at times costly, in terms of keeping comfortable and safe whilst waiting. 

In the last couple of weeks I have had my prostate reduced, it is expected to be cancer free but awaiting confirmation of that. It didn't go quite as expected so an uncomfortable week went by whilst I did my best to drink the world dry. All is beginning to get to get better now and for that I am very grateful. I had however to push to get the surgery done as I need a hernia fixing too. The local hospital was getting ready to do that but I had been told the prostate needing fixing first. There was no inter-departmental communication between surgical specialties that would have helped avoid the delays. This patient has had to do the organising. Given the level of computer based record keeping that exists it adds another layer of frustration.

So you can see why there's been an impact on what I call my mental health too. That being so the last 12 months have not been without bright spots too. There have been travels to see good friends, and taking forward my ambition to do more drawing and painting. Canada, New Zealand, France have been further destinations, while Brighton and Bath have been examples closer to home. In two of that list we saw friends who have since died. Whilst immensely sad about Tim and Chris, who are greatly missed, we were pleased to have spent time with them.

Even closer to home was a Garden Party at Buckingham Palace which on an warm sunny May day was most enjoyable. As ever though the joy of being granddad stands out. Making a den in the back garden, getting messy with flour while making biscuits, singing, train rides, and sharing stories are part of that picture.

Using stories to help understand death, dying, hospice care, and nursing is something I got used to. And a new development opportunity has arisen through the Anne Robson Trust. I have been recruited as a freelance trainer for the 'Simple Wisdom' course they offer. It‘s given me something else to look forward to, as I share examples from my life to help others develop confidence when death and dying arises in their lives. It's never too late to learn about these things, so it is timely unlike this blog piece that's taken too long to come along.

D90 Bridging the gap in #100WorkingDays

 Some of you will recall following my blog about my past and adventures that led me into nursing. Sadly the blog series came to a halt at the end of October ‘22 when my mum became unwell and died on the 1st November.

I’ve not written here since D58, and now this evening it’s D90. And the theme I’d chosen for today when setting up the blog was Sharing stories. So now’s a good time to tell a few, from my history as well as more recent. I love learning from stories and have always enjoyed hearing about the experiences of patients and what they’ve done. Going back a while a long term friend of mum and dad told me in a recent letter that she knew I’d won a beautiful baby competition. Not sure what the prize was and where this took place - south London somewhere I guess. I’ve asked for more details just in case they can remember. Of course my sister and me will have lots of stories to go over and recall to pass on to our grandchildren. 

More recently I’d caught up with story telling work that NHS England are working on as a way to help share the experiences of patients and their families. The Patient experience network is gathering such stories in a digital format. These are about having an approach that allows the people concerned to tell and have ownership of their story. They can say if they allow the story to be shared, to educate healthcare workers for example. Sometimes they like to keep the recording private as a way of having a record to pass on to their families. My involvement led to a story being shared by a hospital audience that included nurses and allied health professionals. Also present were the Chair of the Trust and an Executive. The impact of hearing the story has already led to changes, with more to come. Speaking up about our experiences, sharing our story however it played out is a powerful reminder to others of the impact that both poor care and good care will be remembered. 

People’s stories are easily visible on social media these days. I wonder what we have lost in them meantime. The WW1 survivor I met in the 1970s who’d been in the navy yet served on the Western front. He was a gunner and the early tanks apparently had small naval guns fitted. Sadly though I tried no one wanted to take notice at the time. I’ve had wonderful story tellers in my learning experiences and they have helped me appreciate the power of a story. My mum enjoyed a good story, the pile of books at her house is a reminder of that as she was re-reading all of Charles Dickens. Whatever you’re doing this Christmas take time to think about your story, and what the story of those you meet might be. 

We set up a memory book for mum, a place for stories.

Masking the reality

In the midst of this pandemic there has been a continuing focus in discussions about the importance of self care. I’ve been able to ‘keep going’ though challenges - such as a friend from school days dying in the first wave had impact. 

On top of that work has continued to get busier, caring for more of those dying. Our team has worked hard, making a real difference for our colleagues and those in our care. They continue to do so, supporting each other and providing the service as well as keeping up a stream of warm drinks, cakes, laughs, and gifts. I wonder now about the impact of these deaths on my evolving story. A positive aspect has been our love of sharing the stories of life outside work. Not always Covid-19 related, but tales of incidents, reminiscing about travels and family life.

Meanwhile the worsening pandemic news, coupled with a vision of vaccine salvation gave me mixed emotions. And the influence of all this? As a leader and managerI felt vulnerable, and I ignored the direction of my own story, becoming reluctant to show where everything I thought about was heading. 

Then a one off incident from nearly 7 years ago came back to have an unexpected impact. An anaphylactic shock brought on by a sun cream whilst visiting Canada, means I carry an adrenaline pen to avoid a recurrence. As the Pfizer vaccine was introduced two cases of an allergic reaction were noted. As a precaution (at the time of writing in Jan 2021), if you a carry an Epipen or similar, I was told you cannot have the Pfizer vaccine. In the last week there was news that there was less worry about potential allergies and the Pfizer vaccine so I asked again to be vaccinated. It turns out there is one ingredient in that vaccine that is also used in some sun creams. 

Leaving the vaccination centre without protection suddenly overwhelmed me. 

I cried as I walked away. I was willing to take the risk. I want to protect loved ones.

Without vaccination I remain vulnerable to Covid-19. 

It was then a colleague listened to my story and gave me permission to take time to process what it meant. 

Once able to recognise how the story was influencing me, I could take control of my narrative and reshape the next chapter. I do wonder though that many in leadership and management positions silence their own narratives whilst trying to help others. How healthy is that for us? Perhaps better to be open about ourselves rather than wearing emotional masks as well as physical ones.