Chapter 52
Chairs are set up in a circle, a table at the back of the room spread out with hot drinks and biscuits. The room is already starting to get busy, a few people chatting, but most standing apart, scrolling through their phones and doing their best not to make eye contact with one another.
Phoebe pours herself what looks like a potentially terrible Americano and catches the eye of the woman next to her who had been eyeing up the coffee urn too. She’s a woman around Phoebe’s age. Phoebe hasn’t met her before but recognises the grey circles under her eyes, the bitten nails and the air of general exhaustion.
‘It might not be as bad as it looks,’ Phoebe says, gesturing to the coffee.
The woman raises an eyebrow. ‘It could be worse.’
‘Hmm, that’s true.’ She takes a sip. ‘Oh yes, definitely worse.’ The woman laughs and Phoebe abandons the coffee on the table. ‘Probably best not to risk it.’
‘No, I might go for a tea instead myself.’ They smile at one another for a moment. ‘I’m feeling a bit nervous, actually,’ the woman says, fidgeting with her bag with one hand as she stirs her tea with the other. ‘I haven’t been to anything like this before, have you?’
‘I have. Don’t worry, everyone else is most likely feeling just as nervous as you are. You’re in good company.’ Phoebe glances at the clock. ‘Right, we should probably get started. I’m Phoebe, by the way. I’ll be leading the session.’
She gives the woman a reassuring smile and heads to the front of the room, everyone beginning to take their seats. The group is a real mix of people, in a rainbow of colourful scrubs as well as the smart suits of consultants and the more casual attire of a couple of community nurses. Everyone sits down on the plastic chairs, shuffling about in an attempt to get comfortable and glancing around at one another before turning their attention to Phoebe.
As eyes fall on her, she’s aware for a moment that she might not be what everyone was expecting, with her bright red hair and covering of tattoos, including a new line drawing on her left wrist of a sprig of Rosemary, in honour of her god-daughter. But she also knows that none of that matters.
She stands up tall, pushing her shoulders back while maintaining a warm and approachable smile.
‘Welcome, everyone, I’m Phoebe. Or Nurse Harrison a lot of the time, but in here with you all, I’m just Phoebe. Some of you might be feeling a bit nervous …’ Here, she catches the eye of the woman she’d been chatting to and smiles. They share a look of understanding. ‘Maybe you chose to come here yourself or perhaps you were encouraged, or maybe even forced, to attend by a colleague. Maybe you would rather be anywhere else.’
There’s a nervous flutter of laughter.
‘You might be mentally flicking through your to-do list, ready to get on to the next thing and checking the clock to count how many minutes until you can get out of here.’
More quiet laughter and a few pink cheeks. One of the consultants makes a show of removing his phone from his lap and putting it in his pocket and the people either side of him do the same. Phoebe nods at them.
‘For this next hour, I want you to try not to think about all the responsibilities waiting for you outside but to focus on yourselves and the other people in this room. Just for one hour. I reckon you all deserve that. We all deserve that.’
Phoebe pulls over a chair and joins the group in the gap in the circle, completing the loop. She takes a breath. She has done these sessions many times, chatting with doctors and nurses and health assistants all across Somerset. It’s part of her slightly altered job role and the promotion she received last year, much to her surprise. She thought she had made a mess of everything, given what happened with the river swimming group that had to close before it barely got started. But Mel had seen things differently.
‘Obstacles will always arise. Our patients know that better than everyone. But it’s how you deal with them.’
Phoebe still has patients, but her caseload has become lighter, allowing her time to do things like this where she acts not just as a nurse but as an advocate for her peers.
But however experienced she might be at delivering sessions like these, this bit is always tricky. It’s getting easier though. Each time, it gets easier.
‘I want to tell you a bit about where I was just over a year ago.’ She can sense the others in the room leaning closer slightly, their attention now fully focused on her. ‘I have been a community mental health nurse for ten years. I love my job. I love having the privilege of helping people through their toughest moments, of looking after their overall health – both physical and mental – and I love the sense of satisfaction when you see someone you’ve worked with flourish. But it’s not always easy. Actually, it’s never easy. I don’t think anyone goes into healthcare looking for an easy job.’
Another rumble of quiet laughter.
‘I cared so much about my job, as I’m sure that everyone here in this room does too.’ A murmur of agreement. ‘But somewhere along the way, I stopped caring for myself. I stopped eating properly. I stopped sleeping. I was drinking too much. I felt exhausted, wrung out, overwhelmed. My social life suffered, friends falling away as I cancelled yet more plans. My family became used to only hearing from me very occasionally and to me always sounding low when we did talk. Most of all, I felt helpless. I knew I couldn’t continue as I was, feeling so burnt out and stretched to breaking point. But I didn’t know how to stop, either. I still cared about what I did so much and didn’t want to let anyone down.’
Phoebe pauses, letting her breathing steady itself as she remembers what it felt like to be in that dark place. She glances around the room. By now, the group is transfixed. Some are nodding, others are simply watching her intently. She catches the eye again of the woman she spoke to earlier and notices that her eyes are glistening, emotion flickering.
‘I think it’s hard to ask for help when you’re used to being the one helping others. But we need it too, sometimes. I eventually told my manager how I was feeling and she was so understanding. She’d been there before in the past too, something I think that we often forget when we’re feeling particularly low. It can feel like you’re alone in that feeling, but you’re not. We worked together to set boundaries so that I could continue doing a job I love but without it completely taking over my life. I started looking after myself. Making time for a social life. Eating proper food instead of hastily grabbed ready meals.’
A private smile appears on her face as she thinks about all the food. Jesus, the food. The fresh tomatoes and mozzarella tossed in the most perfect of olive oils. Slow-roasted lamb on a Sunday. Crisp and sweet cannoli that she has even had a go at making herself a few times. Pasta. A lot of pasta. She recalls the pizza she ate on a recent holiday to Italy, pizza that tasted nothing like any pizza she had ever eaten before and, in fact, changed her understanding of the word pizza.
‘These are all things that I now know that I deserve to do just for myself, because I’m a human being and deserve to take care of myself. But I also think that establishing a better balance in my life has helped me to be better at my job too. I need to be emotionally resilient for my patients, the one who turns up with a smile when they need it the most. But it was getting harder and harder to do that.’
She can feel the energy in the room now, the shift as people go from reluctant and hesitant to being right there with her. It always happens and it’s one of the things she loves about these sessions. People might go into them thinking it’s not for them, but as she paints a picture that looks a lot like their own, she can feel them joining her.
It’s not that her life is perfect now. No one’s life is. She still has days at work where someone’s story breaks her heart, moments where it’s hard to feel patient or hopeful or strong. But she has ways now of stopping those feelings from pulling her under. And she has people to turn to when she’s feeling that way.
‘When I think about the issue of burnout, something that I’m sure many of you have either dealt with in the past or are maybe going through right now …’ Some looks of recognition, a couple of nods. ‘When I think about finding a cure for our burnout, I don’t just think about self-care. Yes, self-care is important. Finding things that help you switch off and making time for those things. Treating yourself how you would a patient – with kindness and attention …’
She thinks about the books on her bookshelves that she now makes the time to actually read, even if it’s just half an hour before bed. The moments she enjoys just sitting on her bright orange sofa in her little flat overlooking the village, drinking a cup of tea and letting herself be without jumping straight to all the things she should be doing. Cheese and wine nights in the deli with friends.
‘But it’s not just about looking after yourself. It’s about caring for one another too. Because we’re not alone in having these struggles and we shouldn’t feel alone in solving them either. That’s what this group is.’
She looks around at each of them now in turn.
‘It’s a place where we can hold space for each other. Share our experiences and listen to one another. Come up with some solutions as to how we might change things to help ourselves but also the other people we work with to feel more supported. So, who would like to start?’
The attendees linger behind at the end of the session, chatting in small groups or pairs. Unlike when they arrived, no one is standing alone or looking at a phone. There’s a buzzing atmosphere as people chat and grab a quick extra cup of tea before heading back to their jobs. A cluster of four nurses are engaged in a group hug, squeezing each other tightly. Phoebe is pretty certain they had never met before this afternoon.
‘Thank you so much for today,’ says the woman Phoebe spoke with at the beginning. Throughout the course of the session, she learnt that the woman’s name is Syreeta and she’s an intensive care nurse who has also been helping her parents care for her elderly grandmother. She shared how hard she’s been finding it to not let her personal life encroach on her work and vice versa. ‘I feel better just having said some of that stuff out loud. And I think I’m going to take up your advice about getting back to the gym. It feels like a luxury when I’m so busy, but it always makes me feel so much better.’
‘I think that sounds a great idea. And I run these sessions every month, so do come back next time.’
‘I will.’
Once the woman has thanked her again and said goodbye, Phoebe glances down at her phone. There are new messages in the WhatsApp groups with her old friends from university and her colleagues from her time working in the local hospital. Last year, she decided to finally reach out and try to reconnect and they’d all seemed delighted to hear from her, apologising for also dropping out of touch. Now they have regular meet-ups in the local pub, where they offload about work but also just eat chips and pie and chat about nonsense too.
There’s a notification in her family group chat and she clicks on it to see a photograph from her mum, showing her, her father and her nan having a picnic on the beach. They are all smiling, the sun in their faces and their hair whipped about by the wind.
Can’t wait to see you and Luca next week,writes her mum. Lots of love from us all xx.
Phoebe sends a string of heart and beach emojis in reply and is about to put her phone away and grab her things when a message comes in from Kate.
Hope your session went well. The ceremony will start at 4. I’m so glad you can make it. See you there. xx
Over the past year, Kate has become one of Phoebe’s closest friends and she’ll always be grateful that their lives were brought together. Kate has had a tough year, but Phoebe has tried her best to be there for her, just as Kate has been there for Phoebe on the days when her patients experience inevitable setbacks or the weight of a new person’s crisis feels hard to carry on her own.
Of course I’ll be there, she writes in reply. See you soon xxx
As everyone begins to filter out of the room, Phoebe grabs her bag and black jacket. The old Phoebe would most likely stay behind to catch up on some paperwork and make a start on tomorrow’s to-do list. But she has other people who need her now, people she has let herself rely on too.
She walks purposefully to the door. Phoebe Harrison has somewhere to be.