Never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life

There are so many good folk out there. We are on day 17 of Janes recovery. Although things aren’t going quite to plan just yet, I’m staying positive and taking each day as it comes. It is not easy. What has made a difference over these past 17 days has been the kindness of others. This past week has seen me eat meals prepared by my wonderful neighbours (and take some freshly baked cakes in for Jane); had two huge bouquets of stunningly colourful flowers delivered; had so many cards through the post that our post lady asked if it was someone’s special birthday; had two supportive conversations with two complete different men of God; and received many, many messages, texts and emails of support. So, I say a big thank you for all the kindness shown. All of which has considerably helped with my wellbeing.

By sheer coincidence, (now is there such a thing?) last week in my NHS Trust we held a wellbeing week. This wasn’t the World Wellbeing Week which starts on the 24th June, it was our attempt to start the year right by helping colleagues focus on their health and wellbeing. There was an impressive range of activities and ways in which folk could get involved. It was also an important reminder that we cannot look after others if we don’t look after ourselves as well. Sadly, and across health care professions in particular, our own health and wellbeing can often be something that gets neglected.

Where this happens, it can become harder to care for others. Over time, this can really skew our work-life balance, and to such an extent that we can’t function well in either area of our lives. Something, over many years I have found out to my cost. Unlike me, it seems increasingly these days, finding a job that fits in with the rest of people’s lives has become equally if not more important than how much people are paid.

Working at home and other forms of flexible working are tangible examples of this approach in practice. How many of us pre-pandemic knew about Zoom, MS Teams and so on. Now it’s an integral part of many peoples working lives. Indeed, right now, without MS Teams, I would find it difficult to continue to play an active role at work while also supporting Jane. Despite its detractors hybrid working is clearly here to stay in one form or another.

What risks being lost with non-traditional ways of working however, is the sense of community that physically being with other people can bring. I have found it very interesting to be a non-participant observer as I sit in Janes hospital bay. It is easy to see the community that exists withing the nursing team that cares for patients there, but also with the wider neurology unit staff, and I would think with the community that is the nursing profession. It is powerful example of an effective community of practice.      

Likewise, the anthropologist in me was also interested see evidence of what Lipsky described as ‘street level bureaucracy’ where policy and procedures are enacted within the discretion and hierarchy of the nurses on duty. The same could be found with the doctors I have spoken with – they often act as interpreters of medical knowledge and decision making, carefully, but implicitly reinforcing the power differentials at play – and all done with plenty of smiles.

These recent experiences have caused me to reflect on whether I’m also guilty of these approaches in my working life. I hope not, but it is, of course for others to say. But there is one more aspect of the work/life balance that I’m aware of and actively cultivate. At work, it must be said, I embrace the opportunity to be ‘on the stage’. I like the performance elements my role entails.

However, in my non-work life I embrace anonymity. I seldom tell others of my work life, my position or professional standing. Despite being very self-confident, I like to nothing more than to blend into the background.

At the hospital caring for Jane I know both the CEO and Chair well, and have known them for many years as our career paths have crossed. However, whereas Jane might say something, I would never disclose this to the folk looking after her, preferring to simply being her husband, a role more important to me than any of the others I have. So I was amused somewhat, by being really told off for attempting to sit Jane up the other afternoon (it affects the pressure drain she has fitted). I didn’t explain I was trying to get Jane to lay back down not lift her up. Telling me off, was the correct thing for the nurse to do, although she might have been kinder in the way she did so. I’m not sure that to protest my innocence would have helped her or my sense of self. And I'm sure that such a conversation would not have added anything positive to our sense of wellbeing either. We only have one life, and sometimes its better to just smile quietly to oneself, and carry on, and in doing so, try to make the most of every day we are given.