Professional NHS tweeter

I didn’t care for maths and science at school, I wasn’t bad at them but they left me cold. I preferred art, music, literature. I engaged with stories and self expression.

I didn’t go to a particularly good school and I was made to feel vaguely unserious for enjoying the these subjects — you know, the frivolous ones. I envied the students who had a definite career path in mind (still do) and those with parents who guided them towards proper careers. It must be nice to have that certainty and support.

I went to art school. Yep. Art school. Endured all the jokes from friends about a life of poverty and concern from adults about my future prospects. But I shrugged it off. Art brought me joy; it gave me a voice. For me, art was just a medium to share ideas in creative and engaging ways. It allowed me to be challenging and playful and open.

I chose to work in the NHS because I wanted to make a difference. Contrary to popular opinion there are many career avenues for creatives, but I’ve never been a money-orientated person, I don’t care about status, I just wanted to use my skills in a positive way. I bounced around in administrative NHS roles until I found my way into a Communications Department. It felt like a good fit. I could be creative, I could tell stories, I could make a difference by supporting an institution that had already played a significant role in the life of my family.

Of course, a decade later I still endure the jokes. From friends who make more money than me and try to tempt me into the private sector. Jokes too from clinicians who do not understand what NHS comms is and what it does. And, at the risk of sounding glib and piteous, I’m used to being undervalued, it comes with the territory. So, here again is just a glimpse at what a Communications Manager and their team do in average week:

· Work with senior clinicians and managers to understand key messages. Translate these into digestible chunks for audiences with vastly different needs

· Work with clinical and non-clinical teams of every description to help them communicate their new initiative, role, campaign, idea, system, process or pathway — in a way that feels fresh and exciting

· Work across local areas to coordinate campaigns which are often profoundly important but often under-resourced

· Work with the media to land important, informative and engaging stories — not for PR sake but to further the strategic and operational ambitions of the NHS

· Work unseen to manage sensitive issues, both internal and external and protect both reputation and patients

· Build new digital platforms and systems to support frontline care

· Create patient information that patients will actually read

· Manage the different regulatory responsibilities incumbent on the organisation to share certain bits of data

· Support the NHS workforce to be happy and healthy and well informed and engaged and motivated and feel valued

· Support recruitment and retention

· Build tools and materials to engage communities with different needs

· Event-manage ceremonies and awards and a number of events that help the NHS function and flourish

· Support the dissemination of crucial information during times of crisis, coordinating communication so that crises are navigated safely

· Work in partnership across cities and counties, with counterparts in other organisations and agencies

…and we tweet of course.

It’s not an easy job. It doesn’t come with lots of recognition, but it is important. It does make a difference. I want to give a big virtual pat on the back to all NHS communicators. You’ve been fantastic in 2020. I don’t need to tell you how important your work has been during the pandemic. I know you’ve all worked long hours with no over-time, often doing things that no one will see or appreciate. But you should know that you matter. You are a valued part of the NHS.

I wrote this post in response to a tweet that made me sad. It was from an NHS clinician who’ll remain nameless. I think it’s important to challenge this view because the days of the paternal, doctor-knows-best NHS are over. In a modern health system, working as a unfied team is critical, now more than ever.