From the heart

Katie and pals tell of own NHS experiences in hit thank-you book

I’d never been to a children’s ward, let alone a children’s cancer ward, so didn’t know what to expect on my first visit to the Oak Centre for Children and Young People at Royal Marsden Hospital. It was Christmas week 2017 and I was visiting to meet the patients and bring some seasonal cheer. One of them was George, who had just finished 12 months of treatment for a very rare form of cancer called Ewing sarcoma. I was fully prepared to be faced with a child at death’s door, bed-ridden, semiconscious and haunted. So I was shocked to arrive and find an empty bed.

“Where’s George?” I asked the nurse, bracing myself.

“He’s playing football in the corridor with his brother,” she replied very casually. “I think they need a goalie.” I went out to find them both charging around the corridor. “You’re late, get in goal please!” yelled George at me.

His little bald head, the feeding tube coming out of his nose and his sallow complexion belied the bundle of energy bouncing in front of me. I took my position between the posts – well, the door frame repurposed as their goal. George stood over the ball and sized up his options. I remember thinking whatever you do, DON’T save this penalty. If you don’t let him score, you are going straight to hell.

He’d barely started his run-up when I fully committed to the dive, ushering him to roll the ball into the gaping space I’d left for him. Unfortunately, George shanked his kick directly into one of my flailing legs. An awkward moment ensued. Did he really just save a five-year-old cancer patient’s penalty? “Encroachment!” I announced authoritatively, pointing at a random doctor. “You’ll have to take it again.”

The second time, I stayed rooted to the spot and George creamed it into the top left corner. The crowd erupted into whoops and applause, relief for everyone. Other than the poor sod who’d have to fix the cracked glass in the door.

The experiences I have shared with some of the extraordinary patients on my visits there have helped shape my understanding of The Royal Marsden and probably all NHS children’s cancer wards like it.

Places which, on paper, should be the most depressing to visit on Earth but are actually full of not just bravery, courage and tales of extraordinary resilience in the face of terrifying adversity but also hope, compassion, love, care, positivity and – most unexpectedly – laughter.

That’s down to both the attitude of the patients and the phenomenal and dedicated

NHS staff.

As far back as I can remember, my mother was a nurse. She became a sister on an NHS ward and later was a midwife, so my feelings about the NHS are obvious – it’s a fantastic institution. I know anyone who works for them sees it as their vocation and is a real hero. One of my outstanding memories is that, one night, in the winter in Liverpool, where we lived in the midwife’s house, my mother was called out to assist a local lady in giving birth to her baby. I remember standing by the front by Rhian Lubin from DEAR NHS: 100 Stories to Say Thank You, edited by Adam Kay, published by Trapeze. Hardcover: £16.99. Also door watching her leave the house on her midwife’s bicycle with a basket on the front and her medical case on the back. The road was covered in a good few inches of snow but she had no alternative other than to go to the birth in her midwife’s uniform on her standard-issue NHS bicycle. She set off leaving tyre tracks in the snow. That moment will be with me for ever and encapsulates my pride in, and gratitude for, the National Health Service. We are so lucky in the UK to have such dedicated people to look after us all and no matter who you are, you can still benefit from this fantastic system. Thanks NHS. Thanks heroes. Thanks Mum. Love, Paul.

available in ebook and audio. All profits from the sales of this book go to NHS Charities Together and The Lullaby Trust.

Hustle actor Adrian is one of many celebrities appearing in Dear NHS Superstars, a spin-off programme from the book on BBC1 tonight at 9pm. Here, he shares how one doctor changed his life by taking a little extra time... I suffered with asthma all my life. When I was younger and had an attack, I had to just ride it out. I remember going to visit a new doctor and we talked about getting some inhalers and things I needed. He said to me: “Has anyone ever told you what asthma is?” I said no. He turned this paper over and he drew what looked like an upside down tree. He took a little while to draw it and showed me and said: “That’s your lung. Imagine your air comes in here, the leaves are the alveoli, the bronchial tubes are the twigs.” And then he intricately described exactly what happened when I had an asthma attack. Ever since that day, whenever I have an attack, the image that he drew for me stays in my mind and I can picture exactly what’s going on in my body and I manage it really well now. It’s very controlled. When I describe what asthma is to kids, I tell them about a tree. If I could say anything to that doctor, I’d say thank you. Thanks for taking that time, because it has meant a lot to me over the years.

PLAYTIME Jack & George, 5 FAB SERVICE Macca’s mum was a midwife