More than just a job

Liverpool hospital governor and nurse

Michelle Beaver looks back with pride at her life and times in the in the NHS

I’ll never forget my parents’ reaction when, at 16, I told them I had applied to nursing school. My mum cried, and my dad laughed! My mum’s father, who died a few months before I was born, had always wanted a nurse in the family. I’m named after him.

Most nursing schools had a minimum height restriction of five feet two inches. Having been accepted into a nursing school at South Sefton, I needed to pass my medical. Being young, I was pretty fit and healthy, but they checked everything including my height, which I had put as five feet. “I’m sorry Miss, you’re four feet ten and three-quarters!” Thankfully, they overlooked my small stature.

Nursing school began on 2 October 1989. I was 17-and-a-half years old, the youngest age the NHS would accept. Off I went, to start the first day of the rest of my life. I was even going to be paid to train, which doesn’t happen anymore. My first year’s wage was £5,150.

Training

My first patient experience was a medical ward in Walton hospital, with people who had suffered heart attacks and were attached to cardiac monitors. Then, I didn’t dare look at the squiggly lines as I hadn’t a clue what they meant, although now I’ve worked in that speciality for 28 years. Patients were kept on bed rest for five days before being allowed to sit out of bed for the next two, and then slowly mobilising. Nowadays, they are straight into a catheter lab from the ambulance, blocked artery opened and secured by a stent, and home within three days.

I spent three years training, in three different hospitals, working on orthopaedics wards, elderly, surgical, medical, maternity and labour, and children’s cystic fibrosis and diabetes. I have so many stories that stick in my mind. The maternity ward wasn’t for me, but the labour ward was amazing! When I saw my first baby born by caesarean section, I thought the mother was haemorrhaging, until my nurse mentor told me that the fluid gushing out was normal to protect the baby in the womb. Hurrying home to tell my family about the amazing experience of seeing twins being born, I found Mum cooking liver for our dinner. It looked like a placenta, and that was the last time I ate liver!

Some days were hard and stressful, others were amazing. Experiencing a cardiac arrest is a massive contrast to seeing lives saved, and patients able to go home. I was still only 20 when I finished training. People ask me if that was too young. I had very little life experience but I was soaking up knowledge day by day, and looking up to my peers. And there was illness in my home life, which I feel helped me become a more empathic nurse as I could better understand the feelings of the patients and families.

I had a variety of mentors, some of whom were themselves struggling with depression, alcohol addiction and anorexia. In my first year, a third year student noticed I was having a bad day. She called me into the sluice and said “What I do now, I want you to copy,” then took a cup and threw it down so that it smashed in pieces! As I looked at her in shock she said “I don’t know about you, but I feel great!” We laughed, cleaned up, and got back to work. She had real skills, and would go on to be a fantastic nurse. Nowadays we would probably have been charged for that cup! I won’t incriminate myself by saying whether or not I copied her.

One of my saddest times during training was working in the children’s hospital. I learned a lot about diabetes and cystic fibrosis. I found myself showing young children how to inject themselves with insulin. My mentor was explaining to the children how to work the syringe, and she then passed it to me to show them how to lift a bit of fat around my arm and shove the needle in. How naive was I? I just did it! The oldest children on this ward were 18, and I was only about that age myself.

On this same ward, a young girl with cystic fibrosis was becoming very ill. She was a massive fan of an actor from Brookside. He visited her, and it made her day, possibly her life. She passed away soon after. Nowadays these children are reaching adulthood and living healthier lives due to advances in research and treatment in the NHS.

During my time on the neurology ward, my dad had a kidney transplant. I saw the work of the NHS from two sides, trying to be a professional student nurse by day, and a strong but worried daughter by night. Before this my dad had needed kidney dialysis for a year, connected up for four hours three times a week. Nearly every time I would sit with him and play board games and card games, saving up up our 1p pieces for our stake per game! On a good night I would win 8p.

Qualified

In December 1992, aged 20, I qualified as a Registered General Nurse. I actually did it! This was when real life began. My first job was a three month contract on a Medical Admissions Unit set up due to winter pressures. It was a night shift, in a hospital I had never worked in, with different paperwork. This would never happen now, as every newly qualified nurse has a mentor and a period of time to settle in to a new job. At 1am that night I phoned my mum, in tears because I didn’t feel confident. She said she would come and collect me, but I told her she mustn’t as I am an adult now! Luckily, the job improved after that.

My next stop was 10 months in gastroenterology, followed by the coronary care unit where I stayed for 22 years, during which time I married, had children, and was promoted to a sister. I also saw a massive change in the care and treatment of these patients. At first, so many patients would be critically ill, or die, from a heart attack, angina or heart failure. Over the years the immediate treatment improved their chances of life, the monitoring systems and medication improved, as did the chance of having and surviving surgery. In time the acutely ill patients went straight to the specialised hospital in the ambulance and more patients with chronic heart conditions were admitted to us—possibly those saved years earlier.

As the NHS started to struggle, staff morale was sinking to an all time low. I have always felt that, if you don’t enjoy your job, move on. I was also facing a lot of family illness. My husband was involved in a motorbike crash. My auntie, grandma, and step-father all died. My sister received a kidney transplant, and my mum was about to be diagnosed with terminal cancer. I was dealing with hospitals, hospices and care homes, and my mind wasn’t on the job. I had to reassess and think how could I improve as a nurse.

I took a post as a staff nurse: a demotion, but I wanted to learn about new conditions and treatments. I chose a hospital that is leading in advances in cardiology. It was exciting, and it helped with the return of my “mojo”.

When my mum passed away two months later, I took six weeks off to gather my thoughts and decide whether I wanted to continue working in the NHS. Management was very supportive—it’s nice to know a workplace provides help when needed. On my return I had decided to hand in my notice but, before I had the chance to, I looked after a patient recently diagnosed with terminal cancer. Her family needed a shoulder to cry on and a person to talk to. It made me realise that, even though it’s hard and can be emotional, nursing is my life and I wasn’t going to quit. Soon afterwards I sat with a dying patient, hoping the family would arrive in time. It was extremely difficult, as the last person I did this for was my mum, but I was able to honestly tell that family that their loved one did not die alone. To me that was the most important thing they needed to know. My colleagues were so supportive that shift.

Nobody goes into the nursing profession for the money. You have to want to do the job, and love it. Nurses take on so many roles. When I come home after a bad day and the family ask “how was today?” they have no idea what we see, hear and what sights stay in a nurse’s memory for life. I always take 10 minutes after every shift to change back to becoming a mum or wife again.

I am so proud to work and belong in the NHS, and so pleased to have chosen this career from an early age. There is so much more that I could write, especially after Covid. I really hope the NHS continues forever, and can get past its recent struggles.

Michelle Beaver is a hospital governor and nurse at the Liverpool Heart and Chest Hospital. In 2022 she celebrated her 50th birthday by undertaking a series of fitness challenges to raise money for Marie Curie and we are confident that, by the time you read this, she will have completed her 2023 challenge by cycling from Vietnam to Cambodia in five days. https://justgiving.com/fundraising/mbeaver5