My role brings with it the privilege of listening to and acting upon the feedback that we receive from thousands of patients and families every year. I feel very grateful when people take the time to get in touch and to work with us – we know that all feedback, whether good or bad, helps to make us better.Over time, I’ve learned a lot about the power of stories and the creative use of film and photography in improvement. I’ve witnessed when the emotion they convey hits home, lands hard and silences the room. I’ve also noticed how this information is retained to remind us later to pay attention to the important things. It’s why for me, the soft stuff is never soft. Stories of care at the frontline have taught me about the everyday heroes and the incredible kindness that exists in the NHS despite the pressure, noise and complexity of delivering healthcare.
I wanted to share one of those stories with you now. A gentleman was critically ill in one of our hospitals – he had let the team caring for him know that he wanted to die at home, but they knew his condition meant that he would never survive the journey. Rather than just accept this as a sad fact, staff decided to act swiftly, holding the gentleman’s wishes in mind. Quietly, without fuss, they closed the curtains of all the neighbouring wards that overlooked a small contained garden courtyard – they didn’t seek permission, or do a risk assessment, but they did ensure complete privacy before moving the gentleman outside. Twenty minutes later he didn’t die in hospital, he died in the garden, aware of the summer breeze on his skin, with his wife in his arms.
I want this website to celebrate NHS staff like this. Those - the many - who make decisions every day to do what’s right and to care wholeheartedly by holding the individual in mind - not because they have to but because they want to. It’s who they are. Aren’t they fab and worth shouting about ?