The NHS - in the front line

In my early 20s I was diagnosed with what, at the time, was a life threatening illness. Fortunately I made a full recovery, thanks to the skill and care of everyone involved. This post isn't about that but about a couple of events I experienced much later, in my consulting career.

The first was when a colleague and I were running a management development programme in a Birmingham hospital. The General Manager at the time, who was our sponsor, thought it would be a good idea if we spent a little time on the front line, seeing the challenges faced by the staff, and how they deal with them. So it was agreed that we would spend a day as observers in A&E (the Accident and Emergency Department or, as my American readers would prefer, the Emergency Room). We arrived, donned some sterile clothing and presented ourselves. Two cases in particular stick in my mind.

• A man who'd been involved in an RTA (Road Traffic Accident). I'm no expert but he was badly knocked about with broken limbs and a lot of blood. The team swung into action without any sign of distress and the whole thing was like a military operation - it was deeply impressive.
• Another man who had collapsed in the street with a heart attack. The doctor who took charge was a house officer (junior doctor) who was learning the ropes, and it was her job to use the defibrillator to restart the man's heart. After a number of attempts, it was decided to stop. It was clear that the doctor in question felt she had failed him, and her grief was inconsolable. A colleague took her away to look after her.

The second occasion was several years later when I was carrying out an OPUS project (I'll write about the OPUS Method in another post). The subject of our resarch was the use in practice of surgical drapes - the (usually green) sheets that are placed under the patient and protect those parts of the patient which are not to be operated on. It was agreed that I would witness an operation so I could see how the drapes were used. An orthopaedic surgeon had agreed that I could attend one of his knee replacement operations so, after being prepared for my presence in the theatre, I went to meet him. "How much do you know about knee replacement surgery?" he asked. "Nothing," I admitted. "Would you like to know about it?" "Yes, please". "Right, if you agree to stand where I tell you, I will treat you like an medical student, and explain what I'm doing, and why." I agreed.

This is not the place to explain the process - I'm sure Google will tell you more than I possibly could - but I felt deeply privileged to have this access. It will surprise some people to know that I enjoyed it - but I did.