The Good Within The Broken System
Amongst the brokenness of the system, the difficult experiences, and the trauma, there is also good. And sometimes the smallest things make the world of difference. What about…
The nurse on the CAMHS unit who sat in my room night after night talking to me about her rabbits because I felt scared and alone.
The social worker who was still on the unit when we went to bed at 10pm and there when we woke up at 8am, who spent days applying for PIP for me so I could have horse riding lessons and do other activities when I left hospital.
The SENDCo who would regularly find me hiding in a cupboard, sit on the floor next to me in silence with fidget toys, until I was able to talk. Never once did she seem impatient or let on to how busy she must have been.
The A&E nurse who would insist on assessing me because she knew I found meeting strangers difficult. Who came to see me on the ward after her night shift had ended because she made me smile.
The home treatment team staff who sat in the school reception so I could do my mock exams - something which meant a lot to me - and my mum could have a break.
The police officer who realised she had gone to my school and used this to build a rapport with me, making sure I knew what was happening and why, and ensuring I felt safe.
The teachers who let me sit in their office with them whenever lessons were too much, who never said an adjustment wasn’t possible, and tried everything to keep me in school.
The mental health chaplain from the CAMHS ward meeting me again two years later to help me work through my religious OCD. Then bumping into each other on my final placement as a student nurse.
The psychologist who told me every week for a year and a half that I was a good person and deserved to be happy, and one-day I would believe that. I now do.
I spend a lot of time feeling anger about what needs to change in the system, desperation for those being let down, and reliving difficult experiences and trauma. But today I wanted to think about the good in the system. Aka, the professionals whose actions, words and kindness all contributed to me being where I am today.
When I look back, sometimes it was the smallest, seemingly insignificant things that made the biggest difference. None of them could fix everything. Sometimes it seemed like their actions weren’t even changing anything. But they were - little by little.
They were not all perfect, and I had my fair share of difficult interactions and professionals who didn’t understand. But there were bloody good professionals too. Who went above and beyond for me despite limited resources. Their kindness - particularly my key nurse who sat with me on the unit on those nights I felt scared and alone - was part of the reason I wanted to become a mental health nurse myself.
I am sure they didn’t even recognise their actions as being significant at the time, and likely wouldn’t remember at all now, but they all made a difference in their own way. Sometimes kindness is just the most important thing.
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