I work as a cardiology registrar at University College London Hospital. On Thursday 7 July 2005 I started a ward round at 8 am. Towards the end of this round we were interrupted by an announcement that the hospital had just gone on to major incident alert, as “four bombs had gone off and multiple casualties were expected.” Our reaction to this news was initially shock and disbelief, but as soon as the staff realised the enormity of what had happened they all did everything they could to help.
Figure 1.
Credit: Alisdair MacDonald/Rex
Senior medical staff quickly and proficiently assessed every patient on the medical wards, and all stable patients were taken to our sister hospital, the Middlesex. Porters and nurses worked together, helping patients from beds to wheelchairs; and ambulances transferred patients across to the other hospital in a carousel fashion. The receiving doctors accepted patients without question and efficiently reviewed each and every one to ensure safe ongoing treatment.
The unspoken realisation that these people were the supposedly “lucky” ones strengthened our resolve to do everything we could
At our hospital senior members of staff started coordinating the receiving units. I was amazed by how many people turned up to help: nurses who were off duty came in; doctors on holiday and on night shifts returned. Non-clinical research fellows abandoned their experiments and came to offer their services. Healthcare assistants, medical and nursing students, physiotherapists—every member of hospital staff turned up to lend a hand in any way they could. Nurses and doctors from elsewhere who happened to be in London came to offer their help. While I was in the accident and emergency (A&E) department I answered a ringing phone: it was an off-duty GP calling from west Suffolk, asking if he could help. Many more medical professionals made similar phone calls offering their services. Many had even taken taxis and travelled long distances and for many hours to offer a helping hand. There were stories of taxi drivers refusing to accept payment, of local caterers who brought in refreshments for staff, of members of the public wanting to donate money there and then.
The A&E department was full of doctors, from all specialties. Ophthalmologists came from Moorfields Eye Hospital, neurosurgeons arrived from the Institute of Neurology in Queen Square, and cardiothoracic surgeons came over from the Heart Hospital—experts from local centres offering their skills in this time of need. Entire teams of surgeons were waiting to help: maxillofacial surgeons, ear, nose, and throat surgeons, plastic surgeons, orthopaedic surgeons, and many more. Paediatricians, obstetricians, gynaecologists, psychiatrists—every specialty in hospital medicine was there in force. Radiologists were there with ultrasound machines, running from patient to patient. The computed tomography scanners were constantly on, and patients were ferried through the scanners one after the other, a radiologist reporting the scans as they appeared. The physicians were also there—not just clinicians but every research fellow and non-clinical physician in the trust. However, we still felt very helpless as all the trauma patients began to roll in.
The first patient had had a leg blown apart, requiring a traumatic amputation above the knee. Many nurses and doctors were in tears, and the atmosphere was grim. The sense of anger and frustration was palpable. The unspoken realisation that these people's lives would never be the same again, and that these were the supposedly “lucky” ones, strengthened our resolve to do everything we could as well as we could.
I was humbled by everyone's team work, not just among the clinical staff but also in the efforts of those working away from the direct care of patients, such as the caterers making sure everyone had a sandwich and cup of tea, the ward clerks busy taking blood samples to the labs, and the cleaners, who spoke little English, silently and efficiently emptying the bins. I was struck by the calmness shown by everyone as they worked to the best of their abilities. Even when the mobile phone networks went down, and communication with loved ones was lost, no hint of frustration was seen, just an acceptance of the situation and a silent determination to continue with the job until circumstances improved.
Some distance from the chaos in A&E, physicians were also working hard. The intensive treatment unit had discharged semi-stable patients to the wards so that trauma victims could be received. We worked round the clock trying to stabilise very sick patients who ideally merited intensive treatment. But every patient had at least one dedicated nurse, many of whom had come in voluntarily to help out and some of whom didn't even work at the trust. And every four patients had a medical registrar or consultant, many of whom had given up their spare time to be there. Psychiatrists and psychologists offered their services through the night to help victims come to terms with what had happened.
We spent the next day addressing the secondary problems that followed the chaos. Psychological support was crucial. Many members of staff attended the debriefings that were offered. Issues remained to be dealt with, such as providing hepatitis B immunisations to victims who had pieces of their fellow commuters blown into them.
I have never been more proud to be both a healthcare professional and a Londoner
I worked solidly from morning to evening, and I know many of my colleagues did much, much more. I know that things would have been a lot worse were it not for the professionalism and goodwill of everybody who helped. I was sickened by what happened but at the same time humbled by how willingly people pulled together to offer what they could. I have gained a new respect for human nature.
In a time of crisis people in London selflessly gave up their time and money and offered whatever support they could. Staff in the hospital worked calmly and efficiently, with gritty resolve, displaying flawless team work as they employed their individual skills. I am honoured to work with such wonderful people. It is a day I will always remember, not just because of the scale of pointless suffering but also because I saw how healthcare professionals and complete strangers united to help. In the eight years since my qualification I have never been more proud to be both a healthcare professional and a Londoner.