A short speech, reflecting on two sections of The Award:
For my residential project I travelled to Lourdes with a group of carers and disabled people. The residential project was certainly the scariest aspect of the award. The prospect of spending a week in a foreign country living with complete strangers that I'd first have to locate in Heathrow airport was definitely intimidating. Even after I found them, my fears didn't dissipate. I was assigned as one of three carers looking after two autistic twins. My first task each morning was to get them out of bed and help them dress. This took the better part of an hour. I learnt that if a team of people is given responsibility and has to work together towards a common goal, they quickly stop being strangers.
In my case, for the service section of the award, I helped out at the local hospital, as a voluntary ward assistant.
When I started out, I assumed that life on the ward would be as silent and anonymous as city life outside. The atmosphere surprised me. The warmth between patients and their visitors was striking. Through this, I learnt how important visitors are; how a daily talk with someone from the outside may be all that lets patients keep track of time. Many people, when I asked them how long they'd been in hospital, had no idea, but they had definite ideas about when they should be getting out. Before I started, I expected to only be of use insofar as I performed mundane tasks, freeing the nurse's time for them to do more important things. Instead, I found that the simple action of talking to a patient each week, while playing a poor substitute for a relative, could cheer them up. My overall impression was of a series of individual patients with their personal visitors, supported by a community of nurses. In addition to having pressures on their time, it is difficult for the staff to fulfil the role of the visitor while still being professional. I encountered a much wider range of people than I would normally interact with in my daily life. They ranged from hardened bikers who'd been in motorbike accidents to elderly souls who'd had a fall and would eat nothing but porridge.
I have memories from Addenbrookes that will stay with me for many years. From the people who aren't lucky enough to get visitors, the tragedy of those who suffer from dementia, to the ever pervading 3 hours delays on operations, to the time I was sent to a nearby ward to fetch some rice pudding and the nurse there jokingly asked if the nurse who sent me was too scared to show their face personally.