kindness

Sometimes it’s good to feel angry

One effect of antidepressants is to knock the top and bottom from one’s emotional range. After dark weeks of despair, self-loathing and nothingness of my most recent depression, I welcomed this. It was a relief to feel calm, even blunted.

Now I’m on a reducing dose of medication, I notice a gradual return to a more responsive emotional state. I’m more joyful, sometimes a little more anxious. And I find myself getting angry again about things that matter to me.

Actually, I felt angry today.

While it’s great that NHS England and the government recognise the need to invest in children and young people’s mental health services (CAMHs), why has it taken so long to find this out? And why is investment an election manifesto promise, rather than simply the right thing to do for our young people?

I have two interests I should declare.

  1. I ran such services for 20 years, including 13 as a chief executive.

  2. I first saw a psychiatrist myself aged 15.

The current system isn’t working. But we need to understand how we reached this position, or we risk not improving things far enough, even at all.

CAMHs staff are, almost without exception, amazing people. They don’t look after one patient at a time. They deal with the complications of whole families. They have extraordinary skills, vocation, patience and perseverance plus bucket loads of compassion. But across the country, many are fed up with being blamed for failing children and young people. Because they aren’t failing them. We all are.

The current “commissioning” arrangements could not have been more badly designed unless they were intended to be poor value and counter-productive. It is unacceptable that the different “Tiers” of care are purchased by unrelated parts of the so-called “system”. And that when children fall between the gaps, it is the clinical staff and their employers who face the blame.

Local authorities are under even greater financial challenge than the NHS. Many have made massive cuts to the first line, lower tiers of these services, or made them even harder to access than the higher, NHS tiers. Yet their members sit, by statute, in judgement of the NHS through Health Overview and Scrutiny Committees. Watch me and colleagues participating in this arrangement at Kent County Council a year ago, during which time one councillor publicly suggested that commissioners had set up the trust and staff I then led to fail.

Commissioners of such services have in many cases not been given the chance to argue for increases in resources, or even to defend the services they commission from cuts. Some have even felt the need to assert that providers were exaggerating the now-proven, substantial national increase in referrals. The causes are multi-faceted.

In many unrelated parts of England, services are inundated and can’t cope. Crises occur daily and children wait in police cells to be assessed by hard – pressed clinicians who know there are no beds available anywhere in the country even if the child is in desperate need of admission.

3 useful facts:

  •  Anorexia isn’t a young person’s lifestyle choice. It is a serious mental illness that, without effective treatment, carries a 30% mortality rate.
  •  Psychosis is like cancer. The earlier it is diagnosed and treated, the better your prognosis and the least likely it is to recur. The same is true for most other serious mental illnesses.
  •  75% of mental illnesses start before the age of 18. Like my depression

My 8-point plan for NHS England

  1. Do not ask management consultants or experts in commissioning to design solutions. Ask the people who know. The ones who work in and run these services
  2. Stop setting organisations against each other by competitive tendering. This may be OK when you have time, but with this, you don’t.
  3. Commission one local statutory organisation in each area under the greatest pressure to be the system leader for all aspects of CAMHs except secure care, with commissioners working within the local system. Avoid competition challenges by declaring an emergency, setting targets for engagement with CCGs and GPs, and requiring the lower tiers to be expanded and provided outside the NHS, either directly by schools and/or the not-for-profit sector. Do this for long enough to allow things to settle and thrive, ie a minimum of five years.
  4. Don’t allow anything to cloud your judgement. It isn’t social care good, NHS care bad. Or vice versa. CAMHs teams should be multi-disciplinary and multi-agency. Parents and children don’t care who staff work for. What they care about is getting help that is responsive and effective.
  5. Carefully consider secure services for children and young people. Are they good value? Clinically effective? Compassionate? Safe? And are children in these services only because there are insufficient non-secure services? Only national commissioners can do this.
  6. Work as hard with the next government for increased funding for CAMHs as you would for heart disease or cancer care, were these services in an equally challenged state.
  7. Celebrate the amazing staff who do this work. Encourage ministers, the media, CCGs, trusts, schools and the third sector to do the same.
  8. Imagine what you would want for your children, were they suicidal, self-harming or hearing voices.

What could matter more?

 

 

 

 

Pride and Prejudice: post NHS Change Day ponderings

20.30 from Birmingham New Street to London Euston

20.10 Birmingham New Street to London Euston

You know how it is. There’s been a big event in your life – a special birthday or a wedding. Even NHS Change Day.

Now the party’s over. Everyone’s gone home, you’ve done the clearing up and read the thank you texts. You’ve got a hangover and sore feet from dancing till dawn. And you feel a bit flat. And you wonder what the point of all that fuss was.

I was feeling a bit like that the day after NHS Change Day. Maybe you were too? I’d given my all to various events in Birmingham. I was made extremely welcome by amazing people at Birmingham Children’s Hospital, at Birmingham Community Trust, at two children and young people’s mental health services and by patients, users, carers and staff at a West Midlands Health and Care Voices event in the evening.

It felt very special to share thoughts with patients and staff about things we all care very much about. Everyone seemed up for playing their part in changes that needed to happen. And our NHS Change Day: Time To Change campaign also seemed to hit the mark for many of the folk I came across.

A student nurse called Ellie did something on NHS Change Day that I didn’t have the courage to do until I was 58. In this blog, she beautifully describes what happened to her in front of 40 other people. In our Time to Change video, I ponder what may have made me take so long.

So that’s the pride part. I felt proud of my small contribution to NHS Change Day.

And the prejudice? It was to realise that some of the naysayers also had a point. While NHS Change Day 2015 has been amazing, people who have never heard of it continue to do stunning stuff. Like my friend Alison, a sister in a hospice, who with her colleagues care for dying people with such skill and compassion, I defy anyone not be able to learn something from how they work. Their hospice is one of the most joyous and hopeful places I have ever been invited to visit.

Or another friend, a clinical leader in an acute hospital, battling to get colleagues to see people with dementia for what they really are, human beings with wants and needs, rather than “inappropriate admissions” or “delayed discharges”. Or a third friend, a health visitor with a caseload so huge, and with clients with so many complex health and social problems, I cannot imagine how she is coping. But she is, as are so many others like her.

On Friday, my mother and I went to visit my auntie, her only sister, in her care home. Most of the staff who work there earn not much more than the minimum wage. As always, we were moved by the tenderness shown towards those living at the home. These staff truly love the frail and confused people whose care has been entrusted to them.

People like this don’t need a special day. What they do every day is extraordinary.

The NHS has to change. We cannot go on as we are. It’s an honour still to be involved, as a helper now rather than a leader, and to play a small part in bringing some of those changes about. NHS Change Day is an enabler. But it is no more than that.

Life, and death, continue 24/7 across all parts of the NHS and the services that support it.

If you work in the NHS, I hope you had a wonderful NHS Change Day. Thank you for what you do every day. I am most humbly grateful.

 

What I have learned through recovery

An episode of clinical depression isn’t sadness. For me, it starts with brittleness and a growing sense of doom. I stop sleeping and become increasingly irrational and irritable. Beyond a certain point, I am unable to ignore or control it. Eventually, something snaps. I am smothered by a suffocating blanket of nothingness. The only feelings to permeate are deep guilt and self-loathing. All perspective is gone; I ruminate endlessly over things I have messed up and those I have hurt. I am frozen, unable to speak, or crying. The tears do not soothe. I detest myself.

Luckily I don’t feel like this all the time. Having been on my latest road to recovery for the best part of a year, I have learned a few things about looking after myself that I want to share.

  1. Choose to be all of me: having learned that it is so much better to be open about my experiences of mental illness, I now have to work hard at not allowing depression to become my defining characteristic. It is just one thing about me.

  2. Expect less: if someone likes something I have done, that’s lovely. But I need not feel disappointed if they don’t.

  3. Mindfulness: live in the world and be in the moment. Enjoy the little things – rinsing a cup, the warmth of the cat’s fur. Stop rushing.

  4. Going out: notice how exercise in the fresh air, even in wind and rain, makes me feel strong and alive. Embrace it and do more.

  5. Stop ruminating: I’ve wasted a lot of time going over and over things. It is important to learn lessons when something goes wrong – CBT has taught me to face the difficult stuff with less fear. But knowing when it is time to move on is a skill that needs frequent practice.

  6. Choose to forgive: This goes with number 5, and I like to think I am better at it than I was. Again, I have to practise every day.

  7. Create order from chaos: people think I’m tidy, but the more distracted I am, the messier I get. I have learned that, on a day when I am feeling low or anxious, I need to create order. Write a list, tidy a shelf, weed a flowerbed – completing a small task that brings order is soothing.

  8. Buy less stuff: I thought I loved shopping, but it made me feel guilty to spend money I couldn’t afford or could have given to someone more in need. Now I try to buy less. Except fresh vegetables.

  9. Make do: this goes with 8. I gain increasing satisfaction from mending things, making something from something else, or giving something of mine to someone who can make good use of it.

  10. Treating myself: on bad days, addictive substances such as alcohol, caffeine and chocolate can seem like treats. It takes some of us a lifetime to learn that they aren’t. A soak in the bath, a walk by the sea or some quiet contemplation in a sacred space can feed the soul rather than flooding the brain with dopamine.

  11. Competition: for me, best avoided, except with myself when trying to improve personal performance.

  12. Listen hard: I used to miss so much or misunderstand because I was too busy interpreting what people were saying and working out what response I should give. I am learning the value of listening really carefully. It is amazing what you hear when you listen properly.

  13. Don’t shy away from things that feel difficult or scary: it takes huge courage even to leave the house when you are in the early stages of recovery from depression. Standing up in front of 200 people in my first week back at work, I wanted to die. But I am so proud that I did it. I have found that, as I get better, I thrive from the boost to my endorphins that comes from feeling fearful yet excited about a new challenge, preparing carefully and managing my nerves so that I do a good job. I feel very lucky that in my new world, there are plenty of opportunities.

  14. Stop pretending: when someone asked me how I was, I used truly to believe it was a dereliction of duty to say I was anything other than great. I have learned to tell the truth about how I am – some days I am good, and some just OK. And when I am not OK, I am better at saying this too.

  15. Choose kindness: people have often said of me that I am kind and generous. This came at a cost. I have learned that to be truly and effortlessly kind, one must start with oneself. The love I feel for other people and the kindness that flows from me towards them has multiplied as I have let go of negative feelings towards myself. I am far from perfect and still have many faults, but I am worthy of love. This helps me to help others more than I ever could before.

These are just my thoughts; if they help someone else, that’s great. But please, don’t shout at me if you disagree. We are all different. And that’s what makes us so amazing xxx