Healing wounds

My partner recently injured his hand on a faulty ladder. This took off an area of skin over a proximal finger joint resulting in a dramatic amount of bleeding and an inability to use the finger. Over the days and weeks since we have watched the healing process with fascination, noticing the stages of recovery of both form and function. Normal wound healing has four recognised stages: haemostasis, inflammation, proliferation, and remodelling. For a wound to heal successfully, the four phases must occur in the right sequence and time frame. Many factors can interfere with this process, risking impaired wound healing.

As we watched the re-epitheliation and remodelling of his physical wound it made me think about the unseen wounds many of us have suffered since the start of the pandemic, and the impaired wound healing we have been experiencing. So many people have been harmed not only by the virus itself but also by the lockdowns and the lack of a social safety net, eroded for decades by austerity. I see wounded people often in my work. They are incredibly adaptive and resilient but the body keeps the score, and many chronic diseases and distressing physical symptoms have their roots in emotional and social distress. I cannot speak for these people but I see them. I see their suffering and their strength.

Neither can I speak for all NHS staff, but is is well recognised that the pandemic traumatised healthcare workers. We experienced moral injury long before COVID-19, when we did not have the resources to provide the quality of care we wished to, were let down by a decimated social care system, or were forced to turn people in need away due to factors such as their immigration status. The pandemic brought us challenges that were all too familiar, but, more than that, it highlighted the pervasiveness, severity and proximity of this harm.

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Patients not passports

I spent this week scrolling through my news feed, watching war crimes committed by Russia in Ukraine. A hospital was just bombed. I sent more money to humanitarian organisations including Doctors of the World. Whilst it is easy to feel powerless in the face of terrible world events, there are ways we can stand in solidarity. And whilst our minds are focused on people fleeing conflict, it is a good time to consider how refugees are treated if they reach the UK and need healthcare. I was therefore pleased to be part of a panel this week, to launch the Southwark Patients not Passports campaign.

It included a screening of NHS Borderlands, an investigative documentary into the human cost of charging migrants for accessing the NHS, made by Bare Life Films. It features Angela who, after fleeing Zimbabwe in fear for her life, sought asylum in the UK where she has lived with her husband for 20 years. Following a vital hysterectomy operation Angela was – without warning – issued a bill for £8,000 by the NHS. Angela is not allowed to work and has no source of income and this bill jeopardizes her life in the UK forever. There are many stories like Angela’s, most untold and undocumented. This film shows how healthcare workers and campaigners are fighting alongside Angela to keep the border out of the NHS.

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Tunnels, traffic and toxic air

Over the last few years I have become increasingly concerned about preventable death and disease from air pollution. As a Respiratory doctor, I worry for my patients living with asthma and COPD, but air pollution affects everyone of every age in London, and every organ of the body. Of course it doesn’t affect us all equally, as the poorest in the city contribute least but are affected most by the toxic air they are forced to breahe. Air pollution is a stark example of the social and health inequalities exacerbated by Climate change. Before the Mayoral elections, I and friends from MedAct made short films, showing the air pollution on our commutes from home to work.

I had hoped that Sadiq Khan, a mayoral candidate at the time, would be a strong advocate for Clean Air, and he has been, at least in words. But actions speak far louder, and disappointingly he has not cancelled the Silvertown Tunnel which will bring more toxic fumes to some of the most polluted communities in London.

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Mutual aid

A view across Greenland Dock, London in teh early morning when is is dark, looking across at a misty view of Canary Wharf.

Joy is elusive this month. I leave home early and return after a long day in darkness. My sleep is broken and unrefreshing. My dreams are invaded by oxygen flow meters, masks, monitors, and breathless patients. I am tired, but that word is inadequate to describe the omnipresent fatigue that seeps into every cell of my body through the day, and which sleep fails to banish.

 

But there is hope. There is always hope. And right now it’s name is mutual aid.

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An Unexpected Death

Death is part of life in hospital. Indeed, half of all deaths in England occur in these hives of activity, where we help many to evade the end for a little longer  [1]. Death is such a frequent part of our work in fact, that it can become routine. Last week a man died before we got to see him on our morning ward round. He died some time between having his breakfast and the 9am observations round. He was old, had been unwell for a long time, and his death was expected, although no-one predicted it would be that morning. It caused hardly a ripple. Nurses, doctors and physiotherapists exchanged surprised glances, then shrugged and immediately focused their attention on their next tasks. His death became an admin task, as the junior doctors planned when they would find the time to complete his death certificate, discharge summary, and paperwork for our departmental morbidity and mortality meeting.

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At the margins

There is a great tradition of healthcare professionals working as volunteers, both at home and abroad, and this is highlighted and celebrated by the BMA Doctors as Volunteers competition. I entered a poster this year, and was very pleased to be chosen as one of the two winners. Euston foodbank, where I volunteer, will be putting the £850 prize money to good use, ensuring our foodbank is welcoming, and purchasing essential equipment and stock.

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The professional is political

There is little hope in a recent piece on Respiratory Futures from Dr Phil Hammond. He paints a bleak picture of the NHS under the current Conservative government, and crystallises fears that many of us have that things will only get worse post-Brexit.

The NHS is more than a place we go to work: it is a community, a family. Attacks on our family feel personal and hurt deeply. What has disappointed me over the last few years is the lack of anger and action from our community. Doctors in particular seem to take pride in separating politics from professionalism. They refuse to speak up or get involved, maintaining a so called ‘neutral’ position.

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The Future is Red

I spoke to Marie Claire magazine about my vote, and my response to the election result. You can read the full article, including three other women’s responses, here. Below is my section of the article.

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In the company of death

The Huffington Post have published an article I wrote on art and death. The edited version can be seen here. The original blog follows.

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Time to Live

Last night I watched Time to Live from BBC2’s Life Stories series. Twelve people who have a terminal diagnosis share what they have learned about themselves and about life, knowing that it is short. They are people of all ages who have managed to find positives in their terminal prognosis and are making the most of the time they have left.

It is a fascinating, beautiful and uplifting, but also heartbreaking film. We can all learn something from these twelve people who live life with an intensity few of us experience, and who appreciate and celebrate the life they have.

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