We can’t always choose what happens to us, but we can choose what we do about it

I try and steer clear of politics in this blog, but I have to say, I have become a bit more Canadian of late. The way in which Canadians have started to boycott goods and services from the US in retaliation to the toxic and turbulent politics of the Trump administration has impressed me. I share their dislike of current US politics. Following their lead, I have stopped buying anything made by Heinz (a big US company). This includes one of my favourite foods, baked beans. I have now started to buy Branston’s baked beans, which I think are much better tasting and are healthier too. But there are plenty of other brands to choose from – see here.

The power that comes from consumers exercising choice can have a huge impact. It can disrupt the machinery of the normal, shape policy, politics and the way global enterprises do their business. When, just recently, I said I was boycotting Amazon for a week, Jane, however, didn’t think it would make the slightest difference. Jane may be right in that acting alone, I may never be able to boil the ocean. However, I believed that if enough people all boycotted Amazon at the same time, Jeff Bezos would soon realise the difference this could make to Amazon’s bottom line. Indeed, most of the shares in Amazon are now held by institutional investors and they can be quick to respond to changes in consumer behaviour.

Just like in the ‘Starfish Tale’, we can all do one thing, however small, which can help make a difference. As my fellow blogger, Roy Lilley is oft heard to say, ‘sometimes it’s the little things that are really the big things’. This is certainly true in health care. We can all be somewhat careless in the way we take for granted the surgeon’s or therapist’s skill and knowledge. We perhaps assume that it is there, and we don’t necessarily think about it in the moment when being cared for. It is the little things we often notice more.

When Jane was in hospital, she clearly benefitted from the neurology staff’s skill and knowledge and experience. It was lifesaving. I think she also benefitted from the many day-to-day elements of her care. For example, ensuring her water jug had fresh water, her bed sheets were not tangled, patiently allowing her time to choose her meals, and so on. On their own these were little things. However, collectively they helped ensure the provision of compassionate care for Jane.

Now home, Jane looks well – her hair is finally growing, although it is devoid of the vibrant colours she favours. She can do many things and to the outside world, Jane looks as if she has made a full recovery. That is not the case. This month has been Brain Injury Awareness Month. Rather like not all disabilities being visible, brain injuries can sometimes bely a range of invisible problems. Despite not losing any motor functions, nor her speech, for which we are both truly grateful, currently Jane experiences many of these hidden issues.

This is also the case for high-flying broadcaster Clemency Burton-Hill who in 2020, had a devastating brain bleed, aged just 38. Her early story of recovery was told in a BBC documentary last week, ‘My Brain: After the Rupture’. You can see it on catch up tv here. It is a powerful story and both Jane and I were emotionally impacted by it. Clemency has struggled with far greater physical issues than Jane. Loss of speech, and a loss of sensation on the right side of her body. These were devastating consequences of her brain bleed.

Clemency was a writer, broadcaster and brilliant musician. She loved to play the violin, something she initially lost the ability to do. There is a poignant scene where she starts to work at recovering her musical ability and manages to scratch out a crude version of ‘Twinkle, twinkle little star’. Given she was playing Bach aged four, some might think this wasn’t much of an achievement. It was a tiny step, but you could tell from the expression of pure joy on her face just what a big thing this was.

With both Clemency and Jane, there was no element of choice or conscious decision-making involved in experiencing their brain injuries. In a world where sudden unwanted and unexpected limitations might dominate, it is the little things that can make life less of a challenge. There are still plenty of opportunities to exercise choice, and in so doing, continue to make a difference to how life is lived and experienced. One life, live it. Together, we can.