In appreciation of the ‘Lurking Therapists’

Over the last 10 months, I have often said a big THANK YOU to all those people who keep us safe, well, cared for, warm and fed, able to get where we need to be and who make sure our rubbish is collected week in week out. Then there is that often unacknowledged group of people who regularly deliver all those letters and parcels to our front door. However, every time I do so, I feel an equal measure of guilt (that I’m not doing enough) and pride in all those who are unselfishly reporting for work day after day and just getting on with things. Whilst some might think lockdown restrictions are hard, getting up every morning to leave your house and go to work is tougher still. You might also think that simply saying thank you is an easy thing to do.  At one level of course it is. We can all stand at our front door on a Thursday night and clap for our heroes, but are we sure what this actually might mean? I don’t know Annemarie Plas - the person who ‘borrowed’ the idea from Spain and Italy. I have nothing against her, but her promotion of this gesture of gratitude raises a number of questions for me. It is the ‘why, what, where and how’ of appreciation.

In March 2020 I eventually struggled with the first part of the question, the why was I doing this? I increasingly felt it was somehow expectant upon us. If someone didn’t see me out there on the pavement at 8pm on a Thursday, would they think ill of me? Whilst I was (and still am) genuinely appreciative of all that those working in the NHS and all care services continue to do for others, I found the sense of obligation to demonstrate this appreciation simply felt wrong.

I was also aware that there were a large group of people in the NHS who did not appreciate this public show of gratitude. I think it is often easy to assume that gratitude will always be a positive thing for those in receipt of it. This time around I have not gone outside and clapped. I’ve now found other ways to say thank you and show my appreciation. I believe that kindness matters, and simply saying thank you whenever and however you can, is one way of expressing your gratitude to those whose kindness to others makes such a difference.

For me, last week was most definitely another week where THANK YOUs were in order, and there were so many occasions when this was the case. Some were frivolous but also very welcome. For example, my eldest daughter Facetimed to show me the snow that had fallen that day. She lives in Leeds and they had plenty of snow, whereas on the same day we only had rain. And plenty of it too. Seeing my daughter’s house and garden covered in snow was lovely, particularly as we haven’t really had any. But it was the joy in my grandchildren’s eyes as they described how much they had enjoyed being outside in the snow that was really warming – simple delights, but so important.

Perhaps more importantly was the closing down of Trump’s social media accounts; long overdue and the ensuing silence has been golden. His impeachment must come a close second in terms of good news stories from across the water.

Closer to home, I was very thankful that my parents, who live in Wales, finally got their Covid19 vaccination. Despite what was being reported in the media about the difficulties those is Wales were experiencing in gaining access to the vaccine, the system did eventually come good for my parents. They were thankful, and just a tad proud, to have received it.

And I have to confess to also being a tad proud of colleagues last week. It was a group of wonderful folk who were doing amazing things with their colleagues working at Blackpool Teaching Hospitals. Last Wednesday, I met them at a meeting for those providing psychological support to colleagues, which I had been invited to attend. Although I was there wearing my Board Wellbeing Guardian hat, I have to say it felt a real privilege to be part of their conversations. It was in part a peer-supervision session, as well as an opportunity to exchange concerns and ideas. It would be inappropriate to share the content of their conversations, but there were a number of things I heard that made me thankful these folk were doing what they were doing. I even learnt a new term – ‘therapeutic lurking’. This was a description applied to an approach where these psychologists literally lurked in various clinical environments in order to have conversations with staff working there as these arose naturally. There was no mention of mental health, or any of the terms associated with mental health problems, such as anxiety or depression for example. It was about just being there offering support in ways that meant something for the individual or team.

I also took away a couple of challenges to think about and in time, to try and so something about. One of these was about one particular clinical team who were described as a ‘well-oiled machine’ where everyone knew what their part was and delivered this well. On hearing this description, I wondered what they did with their emotions. Much has been written about the emotional labour of health work. It was the sociologist Arlie Hochschild who described emotional labour involving the use of, or suppression of, feelings in order to sustain an outward appearance that produces in others a sense of being cared for in a safe and knowledgeable way. It is also a defense mechanism against stress. However, at times in health and social care, it can work against health and care professionals being truly therapeutically connected to those they are caring for. And for some people, it can be a difficult place to be, both at work and when the day’s work is finished.

My last vote of thanks goes to my Non-Executive Director colleagues, who last Friday were there for me. There was nothing therapeutic about the situation, which doesn’t need retelling here, although I did feel cared for. I don’t think any of them actually read my blog, but that doesn’t stop me from saying a big THANK YOU to them for reaching out when I most needed them.