An Uncertain Future by Ken Donaldson

Well, that’s been an interesting few months, hasn’t it!! We all watched with fascination as Covid spread across the Globe – China first then Italy and Spain – before it hit our shores and started creeping towards Dumfries and Galloway.  Everything changed. We were told to stay at home, avoid loved ones we didn’t live with, only go out if necessary and our work was transformed. Many people had to ‘Shield’ at home and could no longer work. Those still coming in found their working day turned on its head; perhaps completely new duties or sitting in front of a screen all day. But there was one thing I am pretty sure was felt by everyone; fear.

I was terrified. Terrified of how many people were going to get sick, terrified of how many may die, terrified for our frontline staff who were putting their lives at risk. I was also terrified for my own family and loved ones and, whilst this may sound selfish, I was terrified that I would fail in my job. This felt like a big test of leadership. Was I up to the task? Was D&G at risk because I was about to fail.  Many sleepless nights followed.

However it all looks different now. We have survived the first peak of Covid and, in general, we have gotten off fairly lightly. Our colleagues in the Critical Care Unit and Care Homes may disagree as those two areas have experienced a significant impact from the disease but, as a region, the numbers were nowhere near what we expected and whilst this may be down to our rurality it also reflects how all of us have adhered to social distancing and isolation and stopped the spread.

So what happens now? Lockdown restrictions will start to ease, people will be out an about and there is the strong possibility of a second wave. However there is no doubt that we are much more prepared for that and have systems in place to deal with it should it come. But social distancing is here for some time and we all need to think how we are going to deliver our services for the people of D&G in this uncertain future.

Things have changed and one message I would like to share today is that we cannot go back to what we had before. It quite simply wasn’t working and if we have demonstrated anything in the past 3 months it is that we can deliver healthcare in 2020 in a very different and more efficient way. We don’t need face to face consultations all the time, we don’t need to admit so many people to hospital, we don’t need lots of different steps before a patient interacts with the professional they need to.

There was one other noticeable change when all this kicked off; we all pulled together like never before. Many petty differences which had prevented progress vanished. People reached out to help each other (virtually or 2m apart, of course!) and it was obvious that we genuinely cared about our colleagues. There was really no need to use the phrase ‘We are all in this together’ because we all inherently knew that was the case.

So while the dust settles and we look around at the ‘New Normal’ let us not go back to what we did before. Let us embrace new ways of working and talk to our colleagues about how we do it together. Let us do the right thing for our population.

“A crisis can create an opportunity to learn and build a better way forward. The system that will emerge on the other side of the crisis is shaped by those leaders who are able to harness the potential in the moment and galvanise others to act.”

John Sturrock 2019

Ken Donaldson is Executive Board Medical Director for NHS Dumfries and Galloway

With thanks to Charles Mackesy for the image.

 

 

 

Enough Love by Ken Donaldson

I was out for a run the other morning (yes, despite the physique I do run. I also eat) and was listening to a random music selection. An oldie by Genesis, Land of Confusion, came on. I smiled wryly as I listened to the lyrics. Lines such as ‘Too many problems’ and ‘losing control by the hour’ certainly resonated.

The past few weeks have been simply unbelievable. The initial adrenaline rush brought on by the Covid 19 crisis has started to dissipate and the realisation of what is coming and how this will affect us is sinking in. The purpose of this blog is not to discuss all the plans we are working through and what needs to happen over the next few days and weeks to make us as ready for this as we can be. The purpose of this blog is to talk about us. When I say us I was thinking NHS D&G but in reality I realise I mean everyone working together with the NHS through these difficult times; social workers, carers, police, council, fire and safety, third sector etc etc. Actually what I now realise is that I mean the People of Dumfries and Galloway. All of us.

What I have witnessed over the past few weeks has been a simply astonishing response to this impending crisis. Those in the critical areas; Primary and Community Care, Emergency Dept, Combined Assessment Unit, Critical Care Unit have stepped forward with plans to significantly alter services and ensure they can cope. Those in other areas less critical stepping forward to offer their skills and time to support services in any way they can.

All this is amazing and, I can’t deny, that when I have been feeling particularly stressed, it has made me feel emotional. But its the small things that have brought on the tears; the catering assistant when I was paying for my lunch who gently laid her hand on my arm and asked if I was ok (I know, she shouldn’t have, infection control etc but it was a lovely gesture), the colleague making a point of stopping me to ask if I was all right, another who offered a hug. I mention these for a specific reason.

Whilst I may be feeling a little stressed just now in a few weeks we are all going to be facing simply unprecedented pressures. Quite a few of us will be sick with this virus, we will have friends and family suffering and work will be relentless. We need to cling on to these small gestures. Simple acts of kindness are going to help keep us going through the dark times.

I was at a meeting with Valerie White, Interim Director of Public Health, and she said words to this effect “This is going to be really hard and we all need to work together but I can say without any shadow of a doubt that there is nowhere else I would rather face this than Dumfries and Galloway. The commitment I am seeing from everyone and the willingness to work together is amazing.” I can only echo Valerie.

Returning to that song, Land of Confusion, there was another line that stuck out; “There’s not enough love to go round”. Now this is one I totally disagree with, in Dumfries and Galloway I think there is enough love to go round, and then some.

Take care everyone. We can do this together.

Ken Donaldson is Medical Director at NHS Dumfries and Galloway

*Image taken from “The Boy, the mole, the fox and the horse” by Charlie Mackesy

Holly

This Beautiful young woman called ‘Holly Butcher’ posted her advice to the world  24 hours before she died of cancer.

This was her message for you…

“It’s a strange thing to realise and accept your mortality at 26 years young. It’s just one of those things you ignore. The days tick by and you just expect they will keep on coming; Until the unexpected happens. I always imagined myself growing old, wrinkled and grey- most likely caused by the beautiful family (lots of kiddies) I planned on building with the love of my life. I want that so bad it hurts.

That’s the thing about life; It is fragile, precious and unpredictable and each day is a gift, not a given right.

I’m 27 now. I don’t want to go. I love my life. I am happy.. I owe that to my loved ones. But the control is out of my hands.

I haven’t started this ‘note before I die’ so that death is feared – I like the fact that we are mostly ignorant to it’s inevitability.. Except when I want to talk about it and it is treated like a ‘taboo’ topic that will never happen to any of us.. That’s been a bit tough. I just want people to stop worrying so much about the small, meaningless stresses in life and try to remember that we all have the same fate after it all so do what you can to make your time feel worthy and great, minus the bullsh*t.

I have dropped lots of my thoughts below as I have had a lot of time to ponder life these last few months. Of course it’s the middle of the night when these random things pop in my head most!

1) Those times you are whinging about ridiculous things (something I have noticed so much these past few months), just think about someone who is really facing a problem. Be grateful for your minor issue and get over it. It’s okay to acknowledge that something is annoying but try not to carry on about it and negatively effect other people’s days.

2) Once you do that, get out there and take a freaking big breath of that fresh Aussie air deep in your lungs, look at how blue the sky is and how green the trees are; It is so beautiful. Think how lucky you are to be able to do just that – breathe.

3) You might have got caught in bad traffic today, or had a bad sleep because your beautiful babies kept you awake, or your hairdresser cut your hair too short. Your new fake nails might have got a chip, your boobs are too small, or you have cellulite on your arse and your belly is wobbling.

Let all that shit go.. I swear you will not be thinking of those things when it is your turn to go. It is all SO insignificant when you look at life as a whole. I’m watching my body waste away right before my eyes with nothing I can do about it and all I wish for now is that I could have just one more Birthday or Christmas with my family, or just one more day with my partner and dog. Just one more.

4) I hear people complaining about how terrible work is or about how hard it is to exercise – Be grateful you are physically able to. Work and exercise may seem like such trivial things … until your body doesn’t allow you to do either of them.

I tried to live a healthy life, in fact, that was probably my major passion. Appreciate your good health and functioning body- even if it isn’t your ideal size. Look after it and embrace how amazing it is. Move it and nourish it with fresh food. Don’t obsess over it.

5) Remember there are more aspects to good health than the physical body.. work just as hard on finding your mental, emotional and spiritual happiness too. That way you might realise just how insignificant and unimportant having this stupidly portrayed perfect social media body really is.. While on this topic, delete any account that pops up on your news feeds that gives you any sense of feeling shit about yourself. Friend or not.. Be ruthless for your own well-being.

6) Be grateful for each day you don’t have pain and even the days where you are unwell with man flu, a sore back or a sprained ankle, accept it is sh*t but be thankful it isn’t life threatening and will go away.

7) Whinge less, people! .. And help each other more.

😎 Give, give, give. It is true that you gain more happiness doing things for others than doing them for yourself. I wish I did this more. Since I have been sick, I have met the most incredibly giving and kind people and been the receiver of the most thoughtful and loving words and support from my family, friends and strangers; More than I could I ever give in return. I will never forget this and will be forever grateful to all of these people.

9) It is a weird thing having money to spend at the end.. when you’re dying. It’s not a time you go out and buy material things that you usually would, like a new dress. It makes you think how silly it is that we think it is worth spending so much money on new clothes and ‘things’ in our lives.

Buy your friend something kind instead of another dress, beauty product or jewellery for that next wedding. 1. No-one cares if you wear the same thing twice 2. It feels good. Take them out for a meal, or better yet, cook them a meal. Shout their coffee. Give/ buy them a plant, a massage or a candle and tell them you love them when you give it to them.

10) Value other people’s time. Don’t keep them waiting because you are sh*t at being on time. Get ready earlier if you are one of those people and appreciate that your friends want to share their time with you, not sit by themselves, waiting on a mate. You will gain respect too! Amen sister.

11) This year, our family agreed to do no presents and despite the tree looking rather sad and empty (I nearly cracked Christmas Eve!), it was so nice because people didn’t have the pressure of shopping and the effort went into writing a nice card for each other. Plus imagine my family trying to buy me a present knowing they would probably end up with it themselves.. strange! It might seem lame but those cards mean more to me than any impulse purchase could. Mind you, it was also easier to do in our house because we had no little kiddies there. Anyway, moral of the story- presents are not needed for a meaningful Christmas. Moving on.

12) Use your money on experiences.. Or at least don’t miss out on experiences because you spent all your money on material sh*t.

13) Put in the effort to do that day trip to the beach you keep putting off. Dip your feet in the water and dig your toes in the sand. Wet your face with salt water.

14) Get amongst nature.

15) Try just enjoying and being in moments rather than capturing them through the screen of your phone. Life isn’t meant to be lived through a screen nor is it about getting the perfect photo.. enjoy the bloody moment, people! Stop trying to capture it for everyone else.

Random rhetorical question. Are those several hours you spend doing your hair and make up each day or to go out for one night really worth it? I’ve never understood this about females

🤔.

16) Get up early sometimes and listen to the birds while you watch the beautiful colours the sun makes as it rises.

17) Listen to music.. really listen. Music is therapy. Old is best.

18) Cuddle your dog. Far out, I will miss that.

19) Talk to your friends. Put down your phone. Are they doing okay?

20) Travel if it’s your desire, don’t if it’s not.

21) Work to live, don’t live to work.

Seriously, do what makes your heart feel happy.

22) Eat the cake. Zero guilt.

23) Say no to things you really don’t want to do.

24) Don’t feel pressured to do what other people might think is a fulfilling life.. you might want a mediocre life and that is so okay.

25) Tell your loved ones you love them every time you get the chance and love them with everything you have.

26) Also, remember if something is making you miserable, you do have the power to change it – in work or love or whatever it may be. Have the guts to change. You don’t know how much time you’ve got on this earth so don’t waste it being miserable. I know that is said all the time but it couldn’t be more true.

Anyway, that’s just this one young gals life advice. Take it or leave it, I don’t mind!

Oh and one last thing, if you can, do a good deed for humanity (and myself) and start regularly donating blood. It will make you feel good with the added bonus of saving lives. I feel like it is something that is so overlooked considering every donation can save 3 lives! That is a massive impact each person can have and the process really is so simple.

Blood donation (more bags than I could keep up with counting) helped keep me alive for an extra year – a year I will be forever grateful that I got to spend it here on Earth with my family, friends and dog. A year I had some of the greatest times of my life.

..’Til we meet again.

Hol

Xoxo”

 

The Patchwork Quilt by Valerie Douglas

A doctor once told me that I had a portfolio career.  As my working life as a nurse in the NHS draws to a close it seems to me more like a patchwork quilt, assembled from many knitted squares.  Beginning in a psychiatric rehabilitation ward, I moved to acute admission in the old Crichton.  I dipped in and out of that ward undertaking secondments: to the Clinical Research Department, a Lecturer/Practitioner role, Care of the Elderly, Patient Safety and Improvement.  Then full circle, I moved back to rehabilitation nursing, this time interwoven with forensic threads.  Knit one, purl one.

Recently I’ve been on a partnership working secondment, with seats on the IJB and the RCN Board.  I have needed to insert some elasticated fabric into my knitting, as this has stretched me in directions unlike anything experienced before.  

With retirement imminent it is inevitable that I reflect on the whole quilt, the completed work, and remember the dropped stitches, the unravelling I’ve seen, the piecing together, the mending.  Some squares have faded with time but others remain vivid.

The Quiet Man.  This inpatient was polite, smart, of late middle age.  He wore his depression like a waistcoat watch, well-hidden in a little pocket.  You could just catch a glint of it if you really looked.  One Friday he went home for the day.  This wasn’t unusual.  He would typically return before 9 pm.  When he didn’t appear, staff phoned him.  No answer.  They phoned his family.  No, he didn’t have plans to come home that day, he had informed them explicitly.  Alarm bells rang and rightly so.  He never returned.  He had chosen a way out of his deep, silent despair.  Our thoughts of course went out to his lovely family for their loss.  But today my thoughts are also for us, the staff who nursed him, the doctors who treated him, the domestics who cleaned his room, the ladies at medical records who received those final ward documents.  I wonder if they still mourn him like I do over twenty years later.

Miss M.  Mute, traumatised, psychotic, she hardly ate or slept.  I was on a spell of night duty and would sit by her bed, talking to her, after giving her medicine.  She would listen intently, not responding.  ‘Looks perplexed’ were the words used most often to describe her in nursing notes.  After about a week she was out of bed when I arrived for night shift.  She glided around the ward, keeping close to the walls, vigilant.  One evening I took chocolate éclair sweets in.  I gave three to the nurse and three to the nursing assistant, saying to Miss M as she passed, ‘I’m leaving these three sweets on the table for you.’  She neither slowed nor acknowledged me.  A short while later the nursing assistant bounded into the office, ‘She’s taken those sweets.’  In mental health nursing it is often not diagnostic tests that expose signs of improvement, but observation and engagement.  Nurses can usually pinpoint turning points – medication has started to work, trust has been gained – and I have never forgotten the night of the sweets.  Each Christmas I’m reminded of Miss M when I hang the tinsel angel she made for me before her discharge.

Nursing has presented me with many patterns to follow, using different weights and colours of wool, some challenging designs.  Although all secondments have been worthwhile, I’ve always chosen to return to hands on nursing, the role I rate the highest, the role I value, the one I will miss the most.  Knit one, purl one.

 Val Douglas RMN, DipN, BSc (Hons), MSc Research (nursing)

Two tins of soup by Libby Johnston

When asked to submit something for the blog quite some time ago, the suggestion was that the subject be something that readers would find moving in some way. Recent press has been highlighting the degree of loneliness some are experiencing and how it can effect wellbeing physically, mentally and isn’t always visible to others.

In the run up to Christmas festivities I went to one of the so-called Pound shops. It leans towards my frugal nature and there is nothing like a bargain. However many use such shops to survive with a limited budget.

As I wandered down the first aisle a rather frail but spritely elderly woman moved to allow me to pass and I thanked her and we exchanged pleasantries. As I made my way through the aisles and shelves she seemed on the same route and I couldn’t help but overhear her saying ‘Merry Christmas’ to virtually every person she encountered. I made my way to the checkout and there she was again in front of me in the line. As I looked at her clothes, I could see that she had many layers of threadbare jumpers and no coat on what was a cold day.

She seemed to know the person at the checkout and was asking if they were ready for the holidays and he asked her the same to which she answered yes this was her last shopping trip. On the conveyor belt were 2 tins of soup. He commented, ‘No turkey’? She shook her head, saying nothing and placed the tins of soup in her shopping bag, continuing to wish everyone around her a Merry Christmas and the same to us as she trudged out of the shop, bag in hand. My heart was full as she had shared the joy of the season with everyone she encountered in the shop and yet there was a loneliness to her life.

As a nurse and midwife (retired), it’s always been in my nature to reach out and help others in need. I desperately wanted to ask this dear lady if she was having a Christmas meal with anyone and if not invite her to share ours. I feared she might only be facing a tin of soup. However, she had disappeared from sight and I will never know.

It left me feeling a touch of sadness for her. There is much awareness about people being lonely and particularly at this time of year. Many organisations, charities are endeavouring to help those who may be lonely. There will always be those who won’t want help and soldier on like this woman who found some company, even joy in sharing festive greetings in a shop. A lesson perhaps for the less lonely to be bolder in reaching out to others not only at Christmas but in everyday life.

The government is investing in ‘loneliness’ as it is felt it has been shown to impact health and wellbeing. This is highlighted in this article in The Guardian:“UK to tackle loneliness crisis with £11.5m cash injection”

The money will help establish projects that will bring people together and in so doing reduce elements of loneliness, improving health and wellbeing.

 

“Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted

is the most terrible poverty.”

Mother Teresa

A Yellow Wood by Gill Stanyard

The 1st June 2018 was my  last day as a  Non-Executive Director for NHS Dumfries and Galloway.  After four years of a potential eight year appointment from Scottish Government, I decided to  leave. I felt I had reached a good and fulfilling end and to stay on for another four year term would have been signing up to endure.  I made a decision I wanted to enjoy. So, I felt happy with my decision to end my time, made when swimming in a shimmering blue sea one early morning, whilst in Greece.

I made a decision. ‘Decision.’ The Latin origin of this word  literally means, “to cut off.” Making a decision is about “cutting off” choices – cutting you off from some other course of action. Now that may sound a little severe and limiting, it’s not. It is liberating. Decisions, they take us onto the next stepping stone, sometimes called  ‘The End’  – two words which tell us a story is over.

My friend made the final and shocking decision to end his life at the weekend. A fact I am still struggling to comprehend. Our last communication was a fortnight ago, with me texting him about all the different gins (24 to be exact) that were on the menu at my leaving ‘do.’  He texted me back with a  joke about Rhubarb gin. Then nothing. I didn’t think too much of it, life gets in the way. And then I received ‘The News.’  Yet I have forgotten a couple of times since then, and have gone to text him. Then, with a strange physical ‘flipflop’ stomach feeling,  I have remembered ‘The End,’ which is accompanied by much hurt and sorrow and  strangely, lines from one of my favourite poem’s. – ‘ The Road Not Taken.’ by Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 A single decision can transform a life. I always assumed Frost wrote this poem about himself, yet I recently read Hollis’s  biography of Welsh poet Edward Thomas, and discovered that Frost and Thomas were ‘besties.’  Frost had written the lines as a joke about Thomas’s depression induced indecision, which showed up on their long ‘walk and talk’ days together, with Thomas never being able to decide whether to take the path on the right or the left. When Frost sent the poem to Thomas, Thomas initially failed to realize that the poem was (mockingly) about him. Instead, he believed it was a serious reflection on the need for decisive action. At the age of 36, after much wrestling, Thomas felt compelled to enlist as a soldier in the Great War.

He wrote of his decision to his friend Robert Frost  “Last week I had screwed myself up to the point of believing I should come out to America & lecture if anyone wanted me to. But I have altered my mind. I am going to enlist on Wednesday if the doctor will pass me.”  On the first day of the battle at Arras, Easter Monday, 9 April 1917, Thomas was killed by a shell blast.  His poem ‘Adlestrop’ was published in the New Statesman three weeks after his death and has since become a classical favourite of British poetry.

Adlestrop

Yes, I remember Adlestrop —

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat the express-train drew up there

Unwontedly. It was late June.

 

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.

No one left and no one came

On the bare platform. What I saw

Was Adlestrop — only the name

 

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,

And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,

No whit less still and lonely fair

Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

 

And for that minute a blackbird sang

Close by, and round him, mistier,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire

Life sometimes makes decisions for us. I don’t mean to get all Dead Poet’s Society here, yet I think T.S Eliot had something when he wrote “What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.” (Four Quarters) We get ill and have to take time to rest and get well, and sometimes we don’t always recover, we have accidents,  we don’t get chosen for that job or by that person and we lose people and animals we love and care for.

Where possible, make a decision and choose your ending and make a new beginning, whether it be the end of an unhappy relationship and the start of a happier one with yourself,  saying No to working for extra hours, when you could be saying Yes to spending more time with your family, or your dog or your garden, standing up to a bully and choosing to start being assertive and courageous, speaking out against something which you see is wrong and thus ending corruption or collusion, stopping trying to do everything by yourself and start asking for help -(getting a mentor through NES really helped me with this)  and putting a stop to being taken for granted and drawing new boundaries that put your needs first.

I have taken a Non-Executive decision to be more accountable to myself in my life, to spend more time outside, to stop watching tv and read more poetry,  to save up to live in a place where I can have two donkeys, chickens and  another rescue dog and to track down some Rhubarb gin.

Sorry if I did not see you to say Goodbye. I wish you well in your decision making and hope that your sigh is a happy and fulfilled one.

I

Dementia Awareness by Julie Garton

Dementia Awareness Week runs this year from 4 – 10 June. There are lots of events across the region supported by a wide range of individuals and organisations. This year, I’ll be promoting the use of a document called ‘This Is Me’ within acute hospitals and asking Dementia Champions and other colleagues across NHS Dumfries & Galloway settings to join in.

When someone with dementia comes into hospital, a care home or is receiving care at home, they and their family/friends may be asked if they have a ‘This is Me’ document.

What Is ‘This Is Me’?

‘This Is Me’ is intended for use by anybody with dementia, delirium or other communication impairment.

It aims to provide important personal information about the person from their perspective and those who know them best (family/caregiver) to help enhance the care and support given when the person is in an unfamiliar environment.  It’s crucial that we understand the person as an individual and take their personal history into account, helping us to communicate and engage with the person, which in turn can help us to prevent/alleviate stress and distress.

What are the benefits of ‘This Is Me’?

For the person, their families/caregivers – if the person with dementia has memory and/or communication problems, then a ‘This Is Me’ guides and supports staff to provide care in a way that respects the person’s choices, preferences and routines. ‘This Is Me’ can be a great opportunity to ask and find out information, that as family members we may not know – provoking good memories and conversation. In addition, a ‘This Is Me’ or similar may reassure people with dementia and their caregivers that we see behind the dementia and respect that person.

For staff – for professionals, it can help us deliver person centred care, and importantly, reduce the times we ask for the same information – the detective work has already been done.

Where can ‘This Is Me’ be used?

‘This Is Me’ can be used anywhere, in hospital, care homes, in primary care, respite care and is offered during Post Diagnostic Support.

When should it be completed?

‘This is Me’ always offered during Post Diagnostic Support but can be completed at any time.

Are there issues around confidentiality/sharing this document?

The document is the property of the person and/or their main care giver – it is not a clinical document and does not belong to any professional or service, the person/care giver decides what information is included and shared.

Once completed, the document should be kept in a place that is easily accessible for those providing care, for example, at the bedside, in a care plan. The information can help staff understand the persons’ baseline abilities, lifestyle, routines, likes/dislikes and gives great opportunities for conversation and engaging with the person.

What happens to the form if/when the person is discharged or transferred?

As it belongs to the person, it should go with them on discharge/transfer, and it’s also useful to check with the person and /or their main carer that the information remains up to date and relevant.

Living Well with Dementia

It’s important to understand that many people are able to live well with dementia, leading active and fulfilling lives for years after they first experience difficulties and receive a diagnosis, but coming into hospital can be daunting for all of us, and for people with dementia , this can be a frightening experience.

Whilst these days, a person with dementia may only be in hospital for a short time, how we communicate and support them will have an influence on the impact of the whole care experience and how quickly they can return home. We know that older people with dementia are more likely to be discharged to a care home than older people without dementia, have longer hospital stays and experience more falls and pressure ulcers.

We know that in Scotland around 93,000 people are living with dementia and we think around 25% of all acute hospital beds are occupied by people with dementia (Alzheimer’s Research UK, 2018), yet mostly, people arrive into our services without a document such as This is Me even if they have one at home.

“This is Me gives me golden information about an individual. The nuggets of information are priceless in helping to smooth the way to getting to know the person behind the dementia”

Gillian, Staff Nurse

‘This Is Me’ is just one of a range of tools that can support centred care, Getting to Know Me, Life Story work and a wide range of personal profile tools are available, many online, helping professionals to see the person, not just the patient.

I ‘m keen to hear about your experience/s of using This Is Me in your workplace – please contact me or, if  you would like more information about This is Me or would like a copy, please contact me at jgarton@nhs.net or 01387 246981.

Julie Garton, Alzheimer Scotland Dementia Nurse Consultant

What Matters by Ken Donaldson & Alastair McAlpine

I recognise that it is a bit cheeky of me to put my name to this as I haven’t written any of it. A few months back I was scrolling through Twitter and came upon this thread that really moved me. The messages are simple yet immensely powerful. I have therefore simply taken some screenshots from Twitter and published them here. As you can see this is by a Doctor called Alastair McAlpine who is a Palliative Paediatrician in Cape Town, South Africa. Read on…..

Cant Thank Everyone Enough

You don’t have to look very far these days to realise that the NHS is under significant pressure; the local bulletins, national news and local papers are all talking about ‘Winter Pressures’ and ‘Flu Outbreaks.’ This, along with staff shortages and capacity issues, would make many of us dread going in to hospital or having a loved one admitted however I recently had to witness my husband spend the festive period in the new DGRI and I was so impressed by his, and my, care that I wanted to write about it.

On the 19th of December my husband was referred up to X-Ray for a CXR. This rapidly became a CT scan and then direct admission to the Combined Assessment Unit. This itself was a massive shock for all of us and a very scary time. However the staff in X-ray were amazing and made a frightening experience a tiny bit more acceptable by their kindness and attention. Thank you to all of them.

When we arrived on CAU it was obvious that it was a very busy place. For the staff to be working under this pressure in a new environment beggars belief but they did so with equanimity and charm. The care my husband got was excellent and I wish to thank Moira and all the other nurses who were fantastic as well as the Health Care Support Workers (many cups of tea which were never too much bother) and also Drs Ali and Oates. Dr Oates your visit on Christmas Day meant a great deal to us.

After CAU we moved up to Ward B2 and the outstanding care continued. I came in at 8.30am and left at 9pm and having a single room and open visiting meant I was able to stay with my Husband at all times which meant so much to us especially during this time of uncertainty. We could cry in private and talk in a way we could never have in a 4 bedded bay. Once again the staff were amazing – all the staff nurses, HCSWs and Domestics got used to seeing me around and, despite being extremely busy over Christmas and New Year, catered to our needs. They brought blankets and cups of tea – the small things which can mean so much – without us having to ask, in fact they were so busy we would not have asked for anything. Dr Gysin listened to our moans with patience and kindness and ensured that my husband got home as soon as possible, just after New Year.

We have just started a journey which will now mean trips to Edinburgh for more tests and possible treatment. This was always going to be a hard time but the caring and compassion we experienced whilst in DGRI over the festive period has made it that little more bearable.

Thank you

Love Wins by Euan McLeod

Having returned to clinical practice after a number of years away from the NHS (not saying what number) but nonetheless a significant period I attended the corporate inductions week to prepare me for my role in the organisation.

I had thought that much would have changed but although there were a lot of things different it seemed to me that the very essence of what we did as nurses, and indeed as anyone, employed in the NHS had not changed significantly in that we were all part of an organisation there to provide help and support to those in their time of need,

One thing that had developed was the formation of a set of values. The NHS Dumfries and Galloway CORE values

You may recall that the workshop to develop the CORE values was in response to the publication of the Francis enquiry into the Mid Staffs hospital, and that the aim like most health boards up and down the country was to try and create something that would help deliver higher standards of care and stop situations like Mid Staffs happening again.

What was it that went wrong? Did they not love (care/respect) the people they were looking after? Did nobody love their work enough to want to do things well? Were peoples regard for each other such that they became indifferent to their needs?

Love may apply to various kinds of regard towards other people or objects, and this aspect seemed to reflect what had happened at Mid Staffs, a lack of respect or due regard for the people entrusted to their care.

Love – it’s not a word we use often in healthcare but perhaps it’s central and underpins a lot of the other words or values we use to describe how we should be or act in the pursuit of caring for others.  In that sense I wanted to think about that word LOVE and what it might mean in the context of our main activity as deliverers of healthcare.

The title sat in my notes and in my mind for some weeks, I read the board paper on the development of the CORE values and wondered if it might mention love anywhere. Lots of care, compassion, empathy respect, dignity, etc in the body of the document, and hey right at the back in the summary of responses on positive experiences / feelings, there it was the word LOVE-maybe only 1 person had mentioned it but there it was.

Now all this talk of love may be getting some of you kinda twitched as if this was all some soppy, half baked romantic drivel, the kinda thing that people don’t talk openly about, but think just for a moment about how often you might use the word in the context of things, objects and places and not people

What do you mean when you say oh I just love going on holiday to France, Spain, The Bahamas etc or I just love Jaguar cars, or some designer shoes or handbags.

If someone asked you if you loved your job what would you say-Do you love making a difference to people’s lives?

I don’t think anyone would say no to that

I looked up the Francis report and here’s what it said was the MAIN message

The Francis report is a powerful reminder that we need a renewed focus on hearing and understanding what patients are saying Ruth Thorlby, Senior Fellow, Nuffield Trust

From <https://www.nuffieldtrust.org.uk/resource/the-francis-public-inquiry-report-a-response>

Hearing and understanding what patients say -no problem there then easy and straightforward

The importance of that hearing and understanding aspect was highlighted in the recently published kings fund report

https://www.kingsfund.org.uk/sites/default/files/2017-11/Embedding-culture-QI-Kings-Fund-November-2017.pdf

“Finally, participants noted that a focus on improving patient outcomes and experience was a way to further engage staff in improvement activities:

You have to build that coalition of people who want to make a difference and who want to change and at the centre of it all keep the focus absolutely on patients and never have a conversation that doesn’t involve a patient, because if you do you’re in the wrong place because that’s the only currency, the language, that staff understand. (NHS provider chief executive)”

How can we firstly HEAR what patients say and secondly how can we UNDERSTAND what they are telling us.

Into my in box comes an email from Gaping Void- Everbody’s a patient because evervbody’s a person

Here’s a link if you want to check further https://www.gapingvoid.com/

Gaping void exist to develop the use of culture and art in healthcare settings and the topic that caught my eye was entitled “Everybody’s a patient because everybody’s a person”

There are two underlying truths in patient care:

All patients are, foremost, humans, and one day, we will all be patients.

When designing healthcare experiences, from waiting rooms to waiting times, we have to remember that we’re building for humans — people in pain, people grieving, and people suffering who need to feel loved.

We have to create the experiences that we, as patients, would want to go through. Because, one day, we will.

From <http://mailchi.mp/gapingvoid/we-are-all-patients>

If we are able to love people we care for and hold them in a position of high regard then we will be able to hear what they say and perhaps understand, in turn Love may win over the tensions, frustrations and myriad difficulties that are part of delivering health care  and we can be part of creating experiences that are for  people knowing that perhaps one day we may be the patient

Euan McLeod is a Mental Health Staff Nurse for NHS Dumfries and Galloway