Kate is a Junior Sister

My name is Kate and I am a Junior Sister. I come to work each day to care for people and help them through moments when they’re frightened or in pain.

There’s one day I still think about. I was working in a busy area when a man started shouting across the room, repeatedly asking if I was ‘on my period’. He said it loudly enough for everyone to hear. I felt humiliated and, when he started using my name, frightened.

I left the hospital looking over my shoulder. That night I barely slept. For days I kept replaying his words, his tone and how the room fell quiet.

To him it may have been a throwaway comment. For me, it didn’t end when my shift did.

We all want to care for our patients. Nobody should be made to feel humiliated, frightened or unsafe while doing that.

I am human.

Michael is a Registered Mental Health Nurse

My name is Michael. I became a mental health nurse in 1988 because I wanted to care for people.

One day in A&E, a patient waiting for a bed became violent. I tried to calm him and, when my colleague stepped in to help, he was kicked and fell, hitting his head.

My colleague came to work as a nurse and left as a patient.

I felt terrible for him and couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. I kept calling afterwards to check that he was okay.

I’ve worked in mental health for many years and understand that people can be extremely distressed and, sometimes, unable to control their behaviour. But that doesn’t mean incidents have no effect on the staff involved or the colleagues who witness them.

We come to work to care for people at their most vulnerable, using our skills, experience and knowledge to help them through distress.

I am human.

Salwa is a Stroke Consultant

My name is Salwa and I am a stroke consultant. My priority has always been to provide safe, effective care. But there was a time when that became incredibly difficult.

A patient’s relative grew increasingly aggressive with our team. They repeatedly crossed boundaries and tried to influence clinical decisions. As the lead clinician, I found myself having to ask them to leave the room so we could carry out assessments safely.

The situation took a toll on everyone. It created anxiety and tension across the team and that stress came home with me. When the relative, who was also a healthcare professional, submitted an unfounded formal complaint and threatened referral to the GMC, it left me feeling undermined, unsettled and unsafe.

With the support of my colleagues and the Trust, we managed the situation. A formal warning was issued and their access was suspended, allowing us to focus fully on the patient’s care.

The experience was a stark reminder of how important it is to protect staff wellbeing. We can only care for others if we feel safe ourselves.

I am human.

Emily is a Service Manager

My name is Emily. There is a conversation from work that I still think about.

Because of circumstances completely outside my control, I had to cancel a patient’s surgery at the last minute. We spent the day trying to find another solution—talking to teams, reshuffling lists and doing everything possible to avoid letting them down. In the end, there was no other option.

When I explained what had happened, the patient became extremely upset. They shouted at me, told me the service was dreadful and that I should be ashamed of myself. They shared deeply personal details about the effect the cancellation would have on their life, which left me feeling personally responsible for something I had done everything I could to prevent.

I held it together during the conversation, but afterwards I kept replaying it. I went home upset, barely slept and questioned whether there was anything else I could have done.

I understand how frustrating and upsetting changes to care can be. But the people trying to help are people too. We care about what happens to our patients and the things said to us can stay with us long after the conversation ends.

I am human.