‘Small acts of kindness make a big difference’
Many of the young casualties of the Manchester Arena bomb were treated by Dr Rachel Jenner, a Consultant in Emergency Medicine at the Royal Manchester Children’s Hospital. She recalls how hope and courage has united the city
On the night of the Manchester attack, I was at home when a Whatsapp message came through. ‘Major incident,’ it said, ‘bomb at Manchester Arena’. I left my husband looking after our children, aged six and eight, and ran out of the door, arriving at Royal Manchester Children’s Hospital just as the first patients were brought in. We knew that some people had died in the attack, and that others had severe injuries. All NHS trusts have a major incident plan, detailing which patients would go to which hospital. Our plan said we would take 20 children with life-threatening injuries. That night, we admitted 24 children and five adults. In total, 160 people were taken to hospitals across the city.
Working in an emergency department, the atmosphere can change very quickly. There is sometimes a sense of organised chaos, bustling activity as staff manage the turnover of patients. Yet that night, things felt very different. It was extremely calm, and the overall sense was of concentration and focus. It was as if the incident had moved everyone beyond panic. If something needed to be done, it was sorted immediately – it was a real team effort. There was no time to feel stress or emotion.
As the children came in, most of them were very quiet. All were deeply shocked by the experience, and we tried to soothe and reassure them, telling them they were safe now, that we would make them better. Where possible, children and adults who’d both been injured were kept together.
There were a lot of distressed and anxious parents. Many had searched all the hospitals for hours, looking for their child. In my role, it’s crucial to be compassionate, caring and honest. It’s about trying to understand things from their point of view, learning what their main concerns are and acting accordingly to ease their anxiety. When faced with the worst of atrocities, small acts of kindness can make a big difference.
What happened at Manchester Arena had huge psychological repercussions for everyone. The next day, I found myself back home, drained and exhausted having worked long into the night. And yet, sleep proved impossible. I felt angry that so many lives had been lost and destroyed. I couldn’t stop thinking about the families; those who’d arrived at the hospital uncertain and fearful, not knowing where their children were or if they were even alive. I couldn’t begin to imagine the horror they’d been through.
In emergency medicine, your role is often key to begin with, but it’s relatively short-lived. When the patients are transferred to other departments, you might never see them again. However, following that night, I was keen to know what had happened to the children I had treated, and was delighted whenever I heard that a child had been discharged from hospital. Each story of recovery gave me a boost, reinforcing why I do this job.
Children tend to be far more resilient than adults, and their bodies heal much faster. You generally know when a child is better, because they’re chatting, playing or running around the ward. After such a tragic and shocking event, no one expects immediate normality, but I’m constantly in awe of how the children I treat accept their situations and make the best of things. As I look towards the future, that’s a lesson I’ll make sure I hold close. Hope and courage will always triumph.
I’m in awe of how children make the best of things