Stories from the Wards

Short abstract

BBC Radio 4, 13, 14, and 21 December at 7 45pm

Rating: ★★★

Medicine has always provided a rich seam for fiction, ranging from Chekhov's sublime short stories, to the ridiculous romances of Mills and Boon. To the public what happens in hospitals is a permanent source of intrigue and fantasy, serviced by a huge production of medical fiction in all possible formats. The ancient human need to hear or watch a story unfold remains undiminished and medicine is a compelling subject. But how often do we get an opportunity to hear, truthfully, from healthcare workers themselves, what really happens?

Stories from the Wards tells six extraordinary stories of NHS workers, as they talk about their most unforgettable moments during the course of their working lives. Do healthcare employees share this human need to tell their stories and, if so, what, in turn, does this tell us?

The stories cover a broad range of medical scenarios, but all contain a surprising, even miraculous denouement, which delivers a valuable message. Julie, a matron at Birmingham City Hospital, talks about a young man whom she nursed in intensive care, following a hit and run road incident. Left in a coma, he was not expected to recover. His mother suggested a gathering of his friends (from his snooker club) around his hospital bed, as a way of saying goodbye. The consultant denied the request, but Julie persisted in asking him to reconsider and, in view of the miraculous outcome, learnt a valuable lesson: “that the rules are there to be broken... and if we never question and never challenge, then how do we know what the possible outcomes could have been?”

The other stories are equally memorable, though less dramatic. One stands out in particular, for different reasons. Stephen, a theatre nurse manager, describes his first experience, 20 years earlier, of taking part in an organ harvesting procedure on a brain-dead patient. For Stephen, the shock of seeing the normal process of an operation going in reverse—leading, as he put it, to the deliberate “killing” of the patient—left him with a swarm of unresolved feelings. This is an experience with which many will be able to empathise.

This delicate, confessional series is an admirable example of why we need to change medical culture, to help carers consider themselves, as well as their patients. For example, medical humanities is an inchoate, but growing academic specialty (BMJ 2003;327: s65-6), which aims to access the often profound experiences that healthcare workers carry around with them. Concepts such as creative writing groups for staff may seem like self indulgent frippery in our hard-pressed health services. But quiet periods of reflection about what we do may add to, not diminish, the care and the cure.