It was March 26th, the call from the national media came for us to step up and assist the NHS. They were asking for additional volunteers to help take the strain on the ever-mounting pressures, and it was predicted that this was only going to get worse.
I felt the need to apply. The NHS had saved my father just a few weeks beforehand. January 3rd, I received a call from the hospital over 100 miles away and they advised that his life was hanging in the balance, and that as we spoke he was undergoing a serious operation that would hopefully save him. They advised that I should start the journey, as by morning it was probably going to be too late.
I cannot begin to express the relief of being shown my father through the recovery room window, albeit he was dwarfed by all the equipment – they had beaten the odds and managed to save him.
As I registered, all I could think about was just how I would feel, if I had been unable to sit with my Father, holding his hand, giving him reassurance. If I could offer a small amount of empathy, reassurance, support to a patient, despite the potential risk of contracting the illness, it was to me, a “no brainer”
The application was daunting, 3 interviews, and then 9 modules each with at least 3 exams that had to have an 80% pass rate. By this time, I was home schooling my young children and still managing the day to day administerial duties of the Law Society. It took me 3 weeks to get it all finished, by which time the daily updates from the Government were becoming more and more daunting.
I was asked to attend some general training sessions, one being how to perform resuscitation, obviously mouth to mouth was out of the question. The Medic who presented this, was mid-way through 4 days of 14-hour long shifts. He looked exhausted, and his arms were sore and burnt, caused by the continual washing, and administering of alcoholic gel. Mid way through training, his bleeper went off and he ran out of the room, issuing instructions via his radio………literally the last thing he said was, you need to make the heart massage count, which may in turn result in us breaking a patient’s ribs. This was not going to be a walk in the park.
Monday 27th of April, I received a call to ask when I might be able to start. I took the bull by the horns and said I could offer Tuesday 28th – 9am until 1pm.
I was assigned to an acute stroke ward- the staff were so welcoming and went out of their way to explain and support me. It was in at the deep end, assisting with bed baths, changing beds, feeding patients, which to someone who had never had any previous experience in the care sector was a real steep learning curve. The temperature on the ward was unbearable, all air conditioning units had to be turned off to prevent any risk of the virus being spread. The PPE whilst necessary, was stifling and claustrophobic. The patients struggled to hear you, and I had to learn quickly to express my emotions via my eyes. I was also shocked at the amount of protection that was used. All masks, gloves, and aprons had to be changed between each patient contact, it was little wonder that on some days the hospital was using over 7000 pieces.
As the weeks have rolled by, I was amazed by the stamina of the full-time carers, nurses, doctors and the support staff, the Physio’s, the speech, and language staff. If they were feeling the strain, they never showed it to the patients. Always there with a smile, a few words of support, or reassurance.
I have had the pleasure of supporting these amazing people and being able to get a glimpse into the patient’s lives. Via Facetime video calls we have shown family members their loved ones, and more importantly the patients have had contact from their families. Despite the wards being full of noise and bustle, these patients can feel very lonely, vulnerable, and scared. I have felt privileged to sit with them, to share a conversation, to raise a smile.
One morning I noticed one of the male patients, Bud. He had been washed, but asked to remain in bed, as he did not feel well enough to get up. I went across and asked how he was doing, as this was not his normal behaviour, despite how much discomfort he was in, he always had a smile. He replied that he was feeling rather anxious about his wife, as he had not been able to speak with her for a couple of days. All external telephone lines were busy, so I asked him to bear with me. I left the ward, removing my PPE, and went to the staff locker room. I took my mobile phone, and removed the case, making sure I wiped all surfaces. I then put on a new set of PPE and returned to his bedside. I made the call to his wife and passed my phone to him. The transformation in his demeanour was amazing and he started to look so much more positive. When I went back some time later to enquire how his wife was, he took my hand and looked at me with tears in his eyes and asked how he could ever repay me. In that moment, I knew this was exactly why I had volunteered. I am pleased to advise that the gentle, sincere articulate Bud, was discharged to his lovely wife and dogs last week.
At the end of this pandemic, I will take the experience and memories and be grateful that I was able to help in some way. I often think of some of the more charismatic patients, and hope that they are becoming stronger, and with the support of their friends and families making positive steps along the road to recovery. Rosemary, a former nurse, and a very vocal patient was a delightful challenge. We bonded over her love of marmite, and in moments of clarity would recall her childhood and being evacuated during the war. Barry, and his love of rugby. I have had to promise I would meet at a Saints game and treat him to a pint when he is able.
It has been hard mentally and physically, but in a world where we may aspire to having that new car, better paid job or trendy new kitchen, when you are lying in a hospital bed having a complete stranger wash, feed, and monitor all of your basic bodily functions, perhaps we should take a different approach to what is “valuable”
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