Twitter

I’m sorry. No ifs and no buts.

Last night, I glanced through a well-written Guardian Healthcare piece about the distress experienced by a psychologist over the death by suicide of a patient. It touched a nerve deep in me, and I tweeted this:

Those who rush to judge mental health staff should read this honest piece. In my exp, every loss is as keenly felt
https://t.co/WGM0S2lALL

It got 15 retweets, 9 likes, some positive comments from people who work in mental health services but also a few more questioning ones from people who I would describe as experts by experience. And it was these, plus my initial reaction to the article, that have had me thinking rather hard over the past 24 hours.

I want to make some unequivocal apologies:

  1. I am sorry for my initial tweet. It is sadly not true that all such deaths are so keenly felt. Many are, but by no means all. I desperately wish they all were.

  2. I apologise to all those staff at the mental health trust I once ran who experienced the death by suicide of a patient and who didn’t get the support they needed to help them cope with such a loss or learn valuable lessons that would help them and other patients in the future. Despite my sincere wishes otherwise, I wasn’t always as consistently effective as I intended to be in this regard. I am so sorry for this.

  3. The people I was referring to who “rush to judgement” and look for people to blame after a death by suicide are NOT people who have experienced care, good or poor, or their families. In my not inconsiderable experience, such people are often the most moderate, thoughtful and compassionate towards the staff.  Those who DO rush to judgement are some, not all, of the media; some, not all, politicians; and a tiny but vociferous minority of the general public. It can nevertheless feel overwhelming to be under such an onslaught. I have experience of this. But I should have made what I tweeted clearer. I am really sorry that I didn’t,  because I upset and hurt people whose feelings matter very much to me. I may have done so inadvertently, but I was careless. And I am truly sorry.

  4. This stuff is particularly painful to me because of my own experiences many years ago when I made an attempt at suicide. What the nurse in A and E said to me, that I was selfish and a waste of space and keeping him away from patients who were really ill, had a deep and lasting impact. It took many years before I confronted my shameful secret and quite a few more before I came to accept that he had been wrong. So I am especially sorry that my tweet wasn’t well-constructed. Of all people, I should know better.

  5. It was after I returned to work in 2014 after my worst-ever depressive breakdown that I fully confronted the reality that staff who work in mental health are not all as compassionate as we might hope. There are many wonderful people, but there is still some downright cruelty, some poor attitudes and practices and some not inconsiderable compassion fatigue. I have written about this and my contribution to changing things here and about how challenging it is here. Today, we had a really good, honest project working group meeting, which I chair. This is extraordinarily difficult stuff. It cuts to the heart of things that matter deeply to me and to all the others around the table. So I am especially sorry about my tweet. As a writer, I should be more precise and thoughtful. As a chair, I have responsibilities. As a human, I should have taken more care.

I thought about just deleting the tweet. But that won’t make what happened go away. An unequivocal apology seems a better response. That, plus continuing the work with Time to Change to tackle what we know from countless surveys to be true, that stigma and discrimination are still alive and kicking within mental health services. And if we allow ourselves or anyone else to go la-la-la-la-We’re-not-listening, we, indeed I, are/am complicit in letting it continue.

You will be hearing more on this from me and others in due course. Our work will, I hope, feature in the upcoming Mental Health Taskforce report and in the future work plans for Time to Change.

The death of anyone by suicide casts a long and painful shadow. It is right and to be expected that staff should feel distressed. But they also need compassionate support so they are able, eventually, to carry on being compassionate themselves. And the ones who can’t be compassionate need to be helped to find something else to do.

One of my big lessons in life has been that I can’t be truly compassionate towards others if I am not compassionate towards myself. This means forgiving myself for making mistakes. I hope the people who I carelessly hurt by my tweet will forgive me too. Eventually.

PS In fact, within a couple of hours of posting this I had heard from all those mentioned. I feel deeply blessed to know such kind and forgiving people :):):)

Sussex will never be the same. But we stand together

Saturday 22 August 2015, lunchtime. I’m looking forward to football – Brighton and Hove Albion v Blackburn Rovers. We got back from holiday last night. Steve has gone to Storrington via the A27 near Shoreham Airport to collect William from his cattery. They should have been home an hour ago. I notice via Twitter that there has been an incident at the air show affecting the A27. Slight anxiety till husband and cat return.

At 2.15 I set off on my bike to the Amex. The air is warm and still, the roads empty. At the stadium, we learn that kick – off will be delayed as the A27 at Lancing is shut both ways. Several thousand spectators fail to arrive. We win, not especially well. People keep checking their phones for news.The atmosphere is muted. Son, 28, hugs me spontaneously.

It is only the next day, as estimates of the number who may have been killed keep rising that the enormity of that Saturday moment really begins to sink in.

As I go about my Sunday, I think of those anxiously awaiting news. The names of two 23 year olds are released as the first to have lost their lives.They were semi-pro footballers at Worthing United, en route to a match in Loxwood. One was an Albion employee, both were Albion fans. Tony Bloom, our chairman, loses his composure as he pays tribute to two lovely boys. There will be many mothers like me feeling guilty for being thankful we have no-one missing.

Monday 24 August. On the Today programme, John Humphrys allows his exasperation at the dissembling of an aviation authority representative to get the better of him. He refers to the German Wings incident and talks of “Mad people getting into the cockpit”. A gratuitous, stigmatising link. I recall an appearance myself on Today earlier this year to challenge the German Wings coverage.

A planned day out with a friend to celebrate our 60th birthdays starts with an exhibition at the Imperial War Museum. The poignancy of the loss of young lives catches me unawares.

Much later on my way home, I check the BBC website. There are now six named dead or missing, at least five more to come. The A27 will remain closed all week. The West Sussex Coroner calls for patience; the scene of devastation is beyond comprehension, and identifying the bodies is painstaking work.

Tuesday 25 August. The national media has moved on. But Radio Sussex and our local paper The Argus continue to dedicate much space to the incident. The reporting is beautiful in its sensitivity and as far from sensationalist as you could hope. Careful attention is paid to those already known to be lost, those waiting for news, the ones involved in the clear up and local people who are just shocked and stunned. MP Tim Loughton does what leaders should in times of crisis and is present, calm and thoughtful in his comments. The police, ambulance, fire and rescue teams and volunteer helpers are heroic. The NHS is doing what it does best, saving lives, or trying to. News of the pilot isn’t good but people pray for him. There is no finger pointing. But there are understandable queries about whether vintage planes should be used in air displays over built up areas. The Shoreham Airshow as we know it may be no more.

We all have mental health. Events such as these don’t cause mental illness. But they affect our wellbeing in many ways. It’s wonderful to see Sussex Partnership and the rest of the NHS offering advice and help to those who need it.

And I’m pleased to see my friend Daniel from Brighton, Hove and District Samaritans speaking about voluntary support, including Samaritan volunteers who have been making themselves available to talk to distressed folk paying tribute to the dead. I can think of no-one better placed in such circumstances.

Thursday 29 August. This morning, two days after posting the original version of this blog, I get a call from Radio Sussex. They are doing a programme on Saturday lunchtime live from Shoreham Footbridge to pay tribute to all those who have died, been hurt, have helped in the clear-up or been otherwise affected in any way. Presenter Neil Pringle has suggested they ask me to appear in the programme. I couldn’t be more honoured. I will do my best to say things that will help people.

These are troubling times. Sussex has been dealt a body blow. How can we all help one another? By standing together, being patient, thankful, hopeful, and relentlessly kind.

 

Why do you blog?

I’ve been collecting questions and comments about blogging recently. Here are some of them, with my thoughts. I’d love to hear yours.

1. Why do you blog?

This is a bit like asking why do you breathe. Because I have to. I’ve always used writing to explore ideas and work out what I think. And I’ve always shared it. Blogging is just the latest way to do this. There will no doubt be others.

2. I don’t know how you find the time

Writing a blog doesn’t take as long as you might think. Also, I no longer have a full time job – although I found it helpful to write a weekly blog even when I did. Nowadays, there are other things I don’t do as much of as perhaps I should. Such as finishing the book I am writing…

3. There are so many blogs. I don’t have time to read most of them

No one expects you to. There are also many millions of books, articles and other forms of writing. Some of us have voracious appetites for reading. Others are more choosy. Both are OK, as long as you don’t only read things you know in advance you will agree with. Reading is meant to broaden the mind. And make you think.

4. How do you know if people read your stuff?

This is why blogging is so great. Back in the day of articles appearing in print only, you might know how many people had bought the newspaper or journal. But you’d no way of knowing who had read your piece. With online blogs and articles, at least we now know exactly how many have opened it, even how long they have lingered there. Although whether they actually read it remains their private business!

5. What if no-one reads your blog?

That’s OK. I have had blogs that were looked at by 1,000 people within a few hours, and others which struggled to reach 200 people over a whole week. It can be hard to work out which will be which in advance. It helps to consider whether the title is appealing, and also whether I am saying something original or even interesting; sometimes only clear with hindsight! The ones that seem most popular tend to be when I write about something that other people might have wanted to say, but were too scared to. Or where I talk about my personal experiences of difficult stuff, and what I have learned.

6. I’d like to write an opinion piece but I’d hate to get some of the horrible feedback I’ve seen you getting

This is interesting. At first, the online mauling of people like me who express their views can be distressing. There is something about the ability to be anonymous or apparently unaccountable that makes some people behave in destructive, even vicious ways. I heard Stephen Fry on Desert Island Discs say that he now tweets but never reads the tweets of others.  That is really sad. I’m similar to him in two respects: I experience depression from time to time. At those times, there is nothing anyone can say about me that is bad as how I view myself. And when I am well, I have in the past found it almost unbearable when people have criticised me. But…If you ignore negative feedback, you miss learning something.  I’m slowly improving at rolling with the punches, and just tuning out the most obviously horrible responses. Increasingly I see myself as an incomplete project that I need as much help with as possible. This makes everything about being alive so much easier.

Also, my wise friend @AlexYLDiabetes tells me that the 80:20 rule should apply, i.e. at least 20% of people should actively object to what you are saying. If they don’t,  you are being bland or populist. Thanks Alex,  as you know that has been a stunningly helpful insight. Particularly as my next blog after this one might be quite contentious…

7. I’ve been told I should blog but I’m anxious about getting started.

No-one should tell you what you should do. It is your decision. But given that you might want to try blogging, I will just say this. All new things are scary. I have had palpitations just before pressing the Publish button on quite a few occasions. This was one and this was another. It is when you stick your head above the parapet and say what people might not be expecting that you will get the most reaction. I like it when I manage to articulate what others have been thinking but haven’t got round to saying yet. And I like it even more if I can help people to formulate their ideas. If you think you might like these things too, please do have a go.

8. How does blogging make you feel?

Mainly happy. I honestly love it. As I do discussing ideas face-to-face, reading and hearing what others have to say, finding my thoughts shifting, and finding ways to explain what I think through the powers of story-telling.

And I love online conversations, especially on Twitter, which is made for ideas. As well as pictures of cats.

William in the garden

William in the garden

It could be you

I’ve had a mixed week. Yesterday I was in Leeds with people who mainly work in the local NHS, voluntary sector and local authorities and share an interest in helping vulnerable people. The conference was called #puttingPeoplefirst. It was enlightening and uplifting. I observed a groundswell of support for a different way of being at work, where people bring their whole and unique selves to bear on issues that matter, where failure is seen as an opportunity for learning rather than a weakness to be vilified,  and where treating patients/clients/service users with deep and real compassion is underpinned by working with love and compassion with one another.

Sounds a bit wooly and Buddhist for you? Then listen up. There is an increasing body of evidence that staff, from cleaners to chief executives, who are encouraged to operate with integrity and openness provide better, safer, kinder care. And this stuff isn’t new. Thank you @jackielynton for reminding us of our old friend Donabedian, who wrote wisely about improving quality before anyone else had thought of it, and said that it started with love.

If you don’t already follow @johnwalsh88 on Twitter or read his Yes To Life blog, and you like the sound of the conference, I’d encourage you to do so. I cannot thank John enough for inviting me. Or to the other organisers and speakers and to everyone there who was so honest and kind, including when they challenged one another.

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest,  a senior public servant has selflessly stepped down from a job they openly loved despite having done absolutely nothing whatsoever wrong, and indeed a considerable amount right, in order to meet the political ends of people who appear simply to be throwing their weight about. And is being vilified online for it. What does that say to the thousands this person leads? Are they at similar expedient risk?

And in yet another part of the forest (I do like that saying, please tell me if I overuse it) senior people who should know better have been talking about “Never Events” as if by giving something a threatening – sounding name, it will stop it from happening. Actually, what it does is make staff very, very scared. And scared people are less creative and more likely to cover bad things up and to go off sick with stress. Or worse, come to work when they aren’t psychologically fit enough to care for themselves, never mind others.

Here’s a precis of what I said at the conference about authentic leadership:

  1. Bad things happen. Good leaders look after their people at such times. We live in a blame culture so this is very, very hard.
  2. The more rules and procedures you impose, the less creative and compassionate your people will become. Resisting the external demands to introduce even more is also very hard.
  3. We performance manage and inspect individual organisations at the expense of the good of the collective system, and the patients who struggle across the bits of the system. Moving to a more collective approach is a goal we could all agree on. But what about accountability, comes the cry. Or, who would we blame when things go wrong?
  4. There is a leader in all of us, whether we are a patient or family member, work on reception or sit at the board room table. Work hard, if needs be against the grain, to be defined by what you do best, not by what scares you most.
  5. Bring all of you to what you do. It took me far too long to learn that being all of me, including the bits I was less proud of, even ashamed of, made me a more authentic leader. Don’t try to hide your imperfections like I did. It’s an added burden when things are hard enough already.
  6. Many people are privately saying that everything now isn’t right, and some things intended to improve care are actually conspiring to make it less compassionate and safe. If you agree, find the courage to speak truth to power, which is what I am trying to do in this blog.

If you are in a leadership role and you see a colleague who is having a tough time, please don’t metaphorically cross to the other side of the road as though they had some toxic disease you might catch. And please don’t believe the shit you read online or even join in the anonymous bear – baiting that passes for acceptable comment these days. Instead, offer them your genuine support.

Because you never know, one day, it could be you.

 

What goes on at conference doesn’t stay at conference

This week, NHS folk (patients, policy makers, clinicians, managers) gather in Liverpool for the NHS Confederation Conference. I’ve been to quite a few in my time. Here are my tips for getting the most from this annual NHS jamboree.

  1. Treat the event like a great art gallery or music festival. Don’t try to see and do everything. Be choosy, and give the things you choose your undivided attention.
  2. Travel with an open mind. Be prepared to learn new things and to unlearn old ones. If you only seek out sessions or speakers that you think will confirm your views, you will waste your time and the money of whoever has paid for you to go.
  3. Some people need no encouragement to network. But if you aren’t confident about bounding up to Simon Stevens or Jeremy Hunt with an outstretched paw, don’t worry. Practice by saying hullo to people who look like you feel – perhaps a bit lost or lonely. And remember what Dale Carnegie said: You can make more friends in two months by becoming interested in other people than you can in two years trying to get other people interested in you.
  4. When meeting new people, try to be neither boastful, facetious or enigmatic. If they ask you what you do, tell them. Self deprecation is good, but only if you mean it.
  5. Dress for comfort AND style. These are not mutually exclusive. And ladies, remember that hobbling about in heels that may be causing you permanent disability is not a good look.
  6. Don’t be a killjoy. If you get invited, go to the conference dinner. This is where you will get to mingle with very senior people once the pudding has been served. I’m expecting some serious selfie action from NHS management trainee chums.
  7. Burn the midnight oil if you must. But never forget you are at work. Even if someone makes you an offer you feel you cannot refuse, say No. What goes on at conference does NOT stay at conference.
  8. Take breaks. Go for a walk. Have a rest in your room. Do shopping or emails or visit Tate Liverpool or watch triathletes training in the dock. Drink coffee. But stay focussed on why you are there. The NHS is in desperate need of radical change. We are relying on people like you to work out the two or three things that will make the most difference, and then to deliver them. So you need to be in good shape.
  9. Be kind. You may see folk who you know are having a hard time. Please don’t avoid them. Some of us older hands worry that, despite all the talk about compassion, the NHS has become less compassionate, with considerable focus on inspection, compliance and performance but insufficient attention to recovery, development and improvement. And we have jettisoned most of the architecture that helped senior people to step aside with dignity when circumstances required this. The best you can do is say hullo to people working in very tough places, and listen if they seem angry or frightened. You never know, one day, this could be you.
  10. Bring back stories. I remember one year Roy Lilley started his session with the sound of an unanswered phone ringing while he did a voiceover about being a worried relative. He went on to demonstrate an inadequate vacuum cleaner, dropped it off the front of the stage, introduced us to a new bagless vacuum cleaner, and brought on then little-known James Dyson to chat about quality. He ended with a duet with his brother on keyboards. It was fabulous. This year I highly recommend Alison Cameron at 9.30 on Friday morning. I will be watching online as she reminds confetence why we all do what we do.

You can prepare by following some great NHS people on Twitter. I’ve already mentioned @allyc375. Here’s a few more: @WhoseShoes, @NHSConfed_RobW, @NHSE_Danny, @ChrisCEOHopson, @Saffron_Policy, @HPIAndyCowper, @Crouchendtiger7, @HSJEditor, @SamanthaJNHS, @antonytiernan, @anna_babic, @DrBruceKeogh, @JaneMCummings, @helenbevan, @jackielynton, @DrUmeshPrabhu, @JamesTitcombe, @NHS_Dean, @KarenLynas2012, @yvonnecoghill1, @2020Health, @Damian_Roland, @BCHBoss, @nickyruneckles, @paulfarmermind, @KMiddletonCSP. Of course there are many more wonderful NHS folk on Twitter, but the ones on this list are definitely at the conference this year. Please seek them out and say hi, and send best wishes from me. And expect a warm welcome back.

I recommend that you follow the conference chair @tweeter_anita. I hope she will mention her stunning new book Sophia, the biography of a forgotten Indian Princess who became a suffragette. It has reminded me that keeping quiet and toeing the line never got anything important done. And causes me to wonder how it can be that in 2015, with NHS staff being 70% women and 20% BME, Anita was left to interview 6 white men who are, collectively, in charge of NHS commissioning, public health, regulation and training. I’m not criticising the incumbents, just the system that perpetuates this shocking lack of diversity at the top. All the more reason to dig deep and support the statue Mary Seacole, which will commemorate not only Mary, but all women and BME people who have dedicated their lives to caring for the sick and wounded.

image

Please support the Mary Seacole statue appeal http://wp.me/P4ZnZz-3Y

So listen hard, make some noise, have fun and be kind. I hope you have a wonderful conference.

image

With thanks to @MarkAxcell for the lovely poster.

 

Please take care, Twitter can be cruel

I love Twitter. But it can be a cruel place. Personal attacks and even threats of death are not uncommon. Sue Perkins and Jack Monroe are the latest high profile quitters following unrelated horridness – in Sue’s case, she was attacked for being (wrongly) tipped as Jeremy Clarkson’s replacement on Top Gear. Jack’s was about supporting the Greens on the election. Death threats for this? There are no words.

I’m nowhere near their league, but I’ve had my share of online nastiness, and it continues. It can be overwhelming when you are under an onslaught from many directions. And unless you reply and risk even worse, other more measured folk won’t know what’s happening, because the vile stuff won’t appear in their time line.

I am of the “Whatever we wear and wherever we go, Yes means Yes and No means No” generation. I don’t see why bullies should frighten us away from places that belong to us all. But I’m also concerned for my own wellbeing and that of others.

It is good that Twitter are cracking down on abuse – better late than never. Meanwhile, here are my tips for staying emotionally safe and still getting the best from Twitter.

  1. Be yourself but think really carefully about how much you share. Social media is still a relatively new medium. Some are already regretting earlier openness. I’m thinking particularly of people like me who experience mental illness from time to time. Talking with others who have similar experiences really helps, because with diseases of the mind, unchecked irrational thoughts about ourselves can snowball and be really bad for us. But sharing also makes us vulnerable. Only a handful of people have accused me of psychological weakness, attention seeking or of using my depression as an excuse for past failings. Even fewer have defaced my image, called me vile names, and traduced my appearance, intelligence, morals, motivations and career. I have forgiven but I cannot forget their words. On a bad day, I imagine that others may feel the same way about me. On a really bad day, I may even agree with some of this shit. So please, take care.
  2. Be wary of individual tweeters who follow few people themselves. They may say interesting stuff, but they are unlikely to be interested in an online conversation with you. Maybe you don’t mind just reading their views? It’s a good way to start, especially if you are shy. But most of us are on social media because we want to exchange thoughts, share experiences and ideas.
  3. Don’t just follow those you know you will agree with. It might feel cosy to be in a cocoon of like – minded folk, but it won’t stimulate or enlighten. If it weren’t for Twitter, we wouldn’t know the odious extent of the views of, say, Katie Hopkins on people seeking asylum. What better spur to get the previously disaffected to vote than the thought of people like Hopkins (who always vote, by the way – they know their rights) getting more of a say than us non neo-Nazis? We need to know these things.
  4. Take the plunge and join in conversations when you haven’t got a view or are still making up your mind. Some people think that being open – minded, even undecided, is feeble or wishy-washy. I disagree. Just be sure that when you in one of these discussions,  everyone is treated with politeness, including you. Be prepared to walk away if that doesn’t happen.
  5. Join in with conversations that are happening at the time you are actually on Twitter. Prepare yourself so you don’t feel too hurt if people whose views you admire don’t respond. Just move on and chat to someone else. Don’t assume people are being rude; they might be but that really isn’t your problem. Easier said than done when you desperately want a reply, I know!
  6. Try not to get involved in those angry ding-dongs where an increasing number of @names get added, until in the end there is no space to say anything. If you get copied in, these are best ignored, in my experience.
  7. Don’t be heavy – handed with the Block button. Some people collect blocks like trophies, and will proudly list you as a person who lacks empathy along with others you may prefer not to be associated with. And you won’t know about this if you have blocked them. Save blocking for porn sites, annoying bots and people who are genuinely harassing you. And for the latter, do also report them. Twitter are rightly upping their game in dealing with online harassment. If you are being repeatedly harassed by someone, you may also need to check if they have other profiles. In my experience, these are relatively easy to spot. And do also report them to the police. They definitely do take action when serious threats are made.
  8. My thoughts here are aimed at people like me who are able to tweet as individuals. The freedom we enjoy compared to those in public positions cannot be underestimated. I’ve been in one of those jobs, and written about use of Twitter from that perspective here. It is great if such people can share something personal of themselves, but it is a big ask, given what can happen and the impacts. Which leads me to my final point.
  9. Don’t rush to judgement of others. No-one knows what it’s like to sit where they are sitting, other than they themselves. Be kind, always. Never, ever make remarks like James May did recently about those who made death threats towards Sue Perkins. He only made a bad situation worse. If you can’t be kind, walk politely but firmly away.

I’ve blogged in the past about forgiveness. If you haven’t seen it and are interested, here it is.

I’m still practising by the way.