This week’s blog comes from Venice. I have never been here before and although it hadn’t been on my list of places to visit, J insisted I would like it. So we came, and I have. Our hotel, the 16th century, quaint and traditional Locanda Al Leon was a real find and central to all we wanted to do. I was fascinated that the bedroom walls were covered in heavy gold coloured material rather than wall paper or paint. The bustle from the streets and alleyways around us could be enjoyed or quietened by the shutting of black metal shutters.
Actually, there are probably many reasons. here are just a few. There’s the fact that we are simply here. At a time where many folk are struggling to get through the week due to the cost of living crisis. I did fell slightly guilty that we were here on a trip for no other reason than enjoyment. I haven’t forgotten those folk impacted by the earthquake in Turkey and Syria, or those struggling with the war in Ukraine. These are people who have lost all that they had and will struggle in all kinds of ways to rebuild lives. Yes we could have cancelled the trip and donated the money, but that doesn’t feel appropriate or helpful either.
My elderly parents, (not quite as old as the Venetian hotel) are not so well these days. My Father had a bit of a wake up health call last week. There isn’t much we can do, but such incidents do bring home just how vulnerable we all are. In their case, it is likely to mean a change in how their life gets lived, something that might bring its own problems. We live nearly 250 miles away and the journey takes the best part of 4.5 hours by car and there’s not much difference by train. It’s not a helpful distance to travel in an emergency, or to provide day to day support. The sense of impotence caused by the distance has always been difficult to deal with. Being overseas heightens these feelings, and we have a few more trips planned this year. That we are further away and in a different country, and not easily accessible make me feel slightly guilty.
We flew out of the UK, just an hour or two before the 72 hour industrial action by junior doctors ended. Their strike action was the longest so far of all the health unions’ industrial action. It was predicted to be the one that would cause the most disruption, and I’m sure in many places that would have been true. I spent 30 mins on day one in our Gold Command Operations Room. I was impressed by our team’s response to issues as these emerged. The level of preparedness was first class. I wasn’t in the Trust for the second day of the strike, but the Board were given an update of how things had gone and how things were doing. There were, thankfully, and a little surprisingly perhaps, few problems. However stupid it might be, the fact that I wasn’t there to support colleagues in person made me feel slightly guilty too.
During the 72 hours’ strike, medical care was being provided by the most experienced and knowledgeable doctors, our Consultants and Specialist doctors. These are folk who will be much more confident, decisive and less risk adverse than many junior doctors. Ironically, if you did happen to need hospital care during the industrial action you were probably in better, and safer hands than normal.
I was surprised at the lack of media coverage of the strike, which doesn’t bode well for public support. The only union I have ever belonged to was the European Union and so have never been party to the decision-making processes that unions go through to determine what action to take next. The settlement of the other healthcare unions’ industrial disputes might make the BMA next steps more difficult if they don’t get around the table and start talking with the government. Whatever happens with the junior doctor industrial action going forward, last week’s strike was not without its costs. It’s estimated that 175,000 operations and appointments have been cancelled, all of which will be adding numbers to the already large waiting lists. It will certainly make the lives of everyone working in my hospital that little bit more difficult. And for that I feel more than slightly guilty.
Much of the above (apart from Venice) was outside of my control, so should I feel guilty at all? Guilt has been described as an emotional experience that happens when we believe, rightly or wrongly that somehow or in some way, we may comprised our values. I definitely don’t think my feeling slightly guilty is an altruistic or empathic guilt, and it’s not deontological in nature. Perhaps it’s an existential guilt caused by a sense of not living up to my expectations and perceptions of what I unconsciously think of as my purpose in life. I don’t know. However, we will be flying back to the UK later today, and sitting here writing this blog has at least made me feel grateful for what I have and what I’m able still to give to others. And that feels like a good place to be and not anything to feel even slightly guilty about. As they have said in this part of the world for many a year, ‘que sera, sera’, and for me at least, thank goodness for the therapeutic power of writing .
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