Amanda Jordan

Once upon a time, in the middle of the night, when the owls flew with silent wings and the moon was a spent coin in the sky, a group of hospital staff gathered in the shadow of the clock tower. It’s said that some were junior doctors, years into their training, whilst some had barely began. And some were nurses, who had already seen everything there was to see in all the world, but had never seen an old style mini in the service lift. And so they all swore an oath to try, and they drove the mini up to the clock tower, and some people say that all those who swore the oath climbed inside, and some say that nobody did, that it was driven by a shadow, or a ghost. When it entered the hospital, it kept going, along the corridor, into the lift, and then along the first floor corridor. Some say that if you stand by the clocktower at midnight, at a certain time of year, when the first frost has settled on the trees, and winter is a constant thought in the mind of the sky, you might hear the sound of the engine of that mini, or even a kind of laughter on the wind.

First Day at Work

I drive into Trafford General car park with a sense of excitement and nerves.  It is a mild, sunny day and I easily find a parking space to leave my yellow jalopy and head to my new office. I didn’t know it then but it would be my home for the next 10 years. 10 happy, fun and sometimes sad and challenging years.

I walk to the dilapidated modular building that reminds me somewhat of a cow shed! Take a breath and head in. Time to start my first real HR job in the NHS.

The corridor smells musty. It’s dark but warm.  I see a friendly, inquisitive face peering from the glass window at the end of the dimly lit corridor.  “Hello, you must be the newbie” she says.  She shows me around and I meet my new colleagues.  They are welcoming and friendly. My nerves start to subside.

My first meeting is with my new line manager who initiates me to the ways of the NHS before adding that “we’re a bit short-staffed”.  On that first day, he said “Don’t worry if you get something wrong, it can always be fixed”. This made me feel safe and supported and is a mantra and wisdom I have taken with me on my own journey as a manager.

The sense of community and family in my time at Trafford is one I will never forget.  I was born here, I live here, I am a patient here, I worked here and I volunteer here.  It is home.

 My first meeting is with my new line manager who initiates me to the ways of the NHS before adding that “we’re a bit short-staffed”.  On that first day, he said “Don’t worry if you get something wrong, it can always be fixed”. This made me feel safe and supported and is a mantra and wisdom I have taken with me on my own journey as a manager.

The sense of community and family in my time at Trafford is one I will never forget.  I was born here, I live here, I am a patient here, I worked here and I volunteer here.  It is home.

The Moral Battle of HR

I fight back my disdain.
The horror of the act.
I want to escape, be far away,
not have to listen to what they have to say.
But I stay.

I push my feelings.
I extend my hand.
A shadow person stands before me
secreting hurt, distress, pain.
Empathy flows despite myself

I listen without judgement.
I advise without bias.
I present truth, painful but real.

Afterwards, I sit with my solitude for what feels like an age.
I reflect on the battle of ethics against values
Morals against humanity.
I am HR but I am also human.

Illustration: Rebecca Horswill