All our yesterdays, including yesterday, today, and tomorrow

It can be funny to think what we sometimes are prepared to do. For example, way back in the early 1970s, during the last two years of my nurse training, I commuted between a small village in Wales called Pumpsaint and the delightful city of Swansea. It was a daily 76-mile round trip. That meant early starts and often late finishes. I didn’t mind as, at the time, I had a little smallholding to return to every day. I kept goats, sheep, even a donkey once, chickens, geese, peafowl, ducks and little pot-bellied pigs, before they became a popular something of a ‘must have’ trend. I grew my own vegetables, made my own bread and cheese, even tried wine-making for a while. I also had four young children.

Looking back, I have no idea how I managed to fit everything in, but I guess I had plenty of energy, and needs must. It was a wonderful life, but tough at times too. I would take on extra work just to make ends meet, but it was a happy house and I loved my nursing job. These days I don’t have a smallholding, but do still have goats, chickens, ducks, cats, a dog and a rascal of a parrot. This may surprise some people as we live in Blackpool. Many people only think of Blackpool in terms of fish and chips, rollercoasters, the Pleasure Beach, an Eiffel tower lookalike, illuminations, Winter Gardens and golden seaside beaches. All of which is true. Each of these things are here, and all are enjoyed by thousands of people every year. But there is another side to the area, which is just a hop, skip and a jump away from the Las Vegas style slot machines on The Golden Mile.

The truth is we are blessed with many fabulous agricultural communities all around us. It means we get to enjoy the seaside, and the countryside. Yesterday, we did the latter. J and I took ourselves off to the Great Eccleston Agricultural Show. This is a two-day event that showcases all that is great about rural life. It is massively popular and has been missed during the pandemic years. There was everything to see, from state of the art tractors and machinery that can plough, sow and reap at the press of a button, through to demonstrations of more traditional skills; I saw basket weavers, wheelwrights and blacksmiths. There were marquees full of prize-winning home-produced jam, cakes, flowers and arts and crafts. And of course, there were lots and lots of farm animals. Indeed, the Fylde area and coast, within which Blackpool lies, is home to some of the UK’s top breeders of cattle, sheep, goats and poultry and acres and acres of dairy farms.

I have to say my favourites were the goats. They had a wonderful selection and even examples of the first goat I ever owned, a black and white British Alpine. There was also a woolly pig, and llamas with such doleful facial expressions, you wanted to bring them home with you. I didn’t. I was in my element and felt very much at home. It was a grand day out and a real trip down memory lane.

It wasn’t the only trip down memory lane for me last week. Last week our hospital celebrated a healthy eating week, but did so through the eyes of our wonderful Dining Companions. These are volunteers who help our patients at mealtimes. We have 120 Dining Companions who work alongside our colleagues. When they join us, they are all provided with training and ongoing support, and are seen as being very much part of the team. They offer support to patients who might need help in eating and feeding themselves. This help can be in the form of something as simple as opening the hot food dishes (taking the silver top off for example), encouraging patients to eat, actually feeding them, or just being someone who patients can have a chat with as they eat. Each Dining Companion becomes another set of eyes and ears to assess patients’ wellbeing, something that is invaluable in a busy ward environment.

Last week we were also highlighting the new bright yellow tabards our Dining Companions wear. These tabards identify the Dining Companions to other colleagues and patients alike. So, it was my privilege to get out of my office, roll my sleeves up, don one of these yellow tabards and go and help at last Thursday’s lunchtime. I was asked to go to our Acute Medical Unit and then to our Acute Frailty Unit. I enjoyed visiting both services, and I was able to see first-hand, our Trust values in action. There was care, compassion and good humour to be seen too.

Despite feeling rather silly in my bright yellow tabard, I quickly settled in, and it was as if all those years ago, when I was in practice, had just rolled away. There I was in the moment, able to do something once more that I loved doing all those years ago, being up close and personal with patients. I didn’t get to actually feed anyone, but was able to spend over an hour talking and being with some wonderful people. Some of these folk were living with dementia, and that made some conversations more of a challenge. Likewise, the rules have changed since I was in practice, and now it is no longer permissible for nurses (or visitors) to sit on a patients bed while having a conversation. I understand the infection prevention reasons behind this but in my day, touch and a physical presence often helped reduce the impact of the imbalance between professional and patient. However, it was great to get some lived experience feedback on the meals we provide, how patients are encouraged to eat and drink and so on.

Many of the patients were 65 years old or older. Often the conversations were about the life lived by the patient. Their yesterdays. I came across one lady who had been a nurse for over 30 years, and hearing of the changes she had experienced and where she had practiced as a nurse was fascinating. She talked about her yesteryears, what she was experiencing today, and perhaps just as importantly, what she hoped for her tomorrows. I reflected upon my brief visit, and whilst I recognised the importance of ensuring patients’ nutritional and hydration needs are met, the social aspect of eating in company was in my eyes equally as important. My thanks go to all the patients and colleagues who were so gracious in allowing me this enlightening experience.