Working for the NHS is far from easy, but it’s still the best job in the world
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Version 0 of 1. The NHS is in crisis. Newspaper headlines talk of nothing but ‘terminal decline’ and ‘system failure’. Our GPs are burnt out and miserable. In hospital, we face a population growing in age and waistline, a cohort of complex patients denied the social care they need in the community. We are at war with better diseases and worse economies. So why is it that I still look forward to going to work each morning? I’m a first-year junior doctor and I work at a busy district general hospital in south London. There are 36 of us first years at my hospital and for many, this is our first real job. We’ve spent our entire adult life at university. Now here we are – fresh out of medical school – dealing routinely with sickness and death. Many of my colleagues are already depressingly jaded. I try to look at things differently. Not only is caring for the public a privilege, the job can often be an awful lot of fun. My co-workers are almost all dedicated, compassionate and, most importantly, great company during the longer, harder shifts. In the last nine months, I’ve laughed more than I have done in a very long time. In the coffee room, our ward clerk tells us how she used to party with George Michael and shows off the dance moves she’s prepared for the Christmas party. In theatres, my registrar laughs as I struggle for five minutes to pull on a pair of sterile gloves. I remember last winter, a colleague and I ended up stuck on the ward till 10 o’clock. Evening plans ruined, we ordered pizza for the night nurses and hung around swapping hospital gossip till midnight. When asked for their favourite moments from the past nine months, my junior colleagues are spoiled for choice. One remembers helping to deliver twins by c-section; another recalls gathering the whole ward together to sing to a patient on her 80th birthday. The positivity is surprising. Among all the drudgery, it comes down to this: a group of people who love what they do. Related: Why I love being a GP Our best moments are the ones we share, our worst the ones we face alone. I remember working alone at twilight, trying to place a line in a very poorly old woman. My futile attempts were punctuated by the screams of the patient in the next bed and by the mischief of the lady opposite, who kept coming over to steal my equipment. When I tried to take it back, she threw a mean left hook that narrowly missed my face. When I tell this story to my registrar afterwards, his concern for my wellbeing is touching. Everything else comes second to checking I’m all right. “We look after our own,” my consultant told me once. When my first patient died, everyone gave me a hug and then we went for a beer. I was devastated, but I wasn’t alone. That camaraderie is what makes it worth showing up again tomorrow. It’s the reason I look forward to coming to work. Some might think that’s naïve. I’ve been called worse. Perhaps this enthusiasm will fade. Perhaps one day I will be just as cynical as many of my colleagues. I hope not. The NHS is in crisis. In times like these, it’s important that we take care of each other and remember that on a good day, this is still the best job in the world. Cuts risk making the staff even sicker than the patients. That’s a worrying thought. And yet, I look around at the wonderful people I work with and feel cheered. On the shop floor at least, the NHS is in safe hands. If you would like to write a blogpost for Views from the NHS frontline, read our guidelines and get in touch by emailing healthcare@theguardian.com. |