News

Monday
I phone Daniella, one of my clients, to see how she is. She is one of the many foreign nurses who keep the NHS afloat, and following a recent cancer diagnosis, had surgery that left her with a colostomy. She had feared her fianc‚ back home would find it repulsive and call their wedding off. Daniella is bubbly on the phone and said the wedding was fine. Her fianc‚ was very understanding and the wedding day was perfect. "I am so happy" she says. She doesn't need to see me again and I come off the phone uplifted. It's great to have good news for a change. The next call tells me a client has died. Despite more than a year's involvement, I and other professionals never succeeded in persuading the single mum to consult her teenage daughter about whom she will live with after her death. I reflect that the principle of patient autonomy, so beloved of health care professionals, is all very well but what about the social workers' mantra of "the best interests of the child"?

Tuesday
A colleague and I are delivering a teaching session to 21 health carers. I start with an icebreaker that involves writing something down and am astounded to be asked if I can lend them a pen and some paper. What did they think they were going to do for the next four hours? Am tempted to abandon the session but soldier on.

Wednesday
The weekly team meeting - the highlight of our lives. Despite everyone promising total commitment to it, yet again we do not start on time. The vexed question of an out of hours service dominates the agenda. The debate takes up almost the entire meeting, but unsurprisingly no decisions are made as the team leader is absent. I suspect we will have a rerun of the whole affair the next week.

Friday
My day off and I spend a contented morning in the garden. Unfortunately my mind keeps straying to the three children whose mother is ill again with breast cancer. The mum wants me to see each child individually as she thinks "it would do them good to talk". I'm not sure they want to talk, and if they do, whether it's me they want. I remind myself I am a professional who doesn't take her work home and focus my thoughts firmly on the compost heap.

Saturday
Visit my old boss who is in hospital with pneumonia. He tells me since I last saw him tests have revealed widespread cancer for which there is no treatment. He talks of death, faith and family. As always in his presence I sit and learn. On the drive home I weep quietly.

Sunday
  In church the preacher asks God to bless all those who serve the community: nurses, doctors, teachers, firemen and the police. "What about the social workers?" I mutter to my partner. Never mind. I'll be in the pulpit myself in a few weeks' time so at least we'll get a mention then.