After a spell in hospital, PETER BARRON pays tribute to the dedication of the multinational staff keeping the NHS going – at a time when racist thugs have rioted across the country

LIKE millions of others, I stood on the doorstep, banging a saucepan and clapping to show my appreciation of NHS workers during the Covid crisis.

But it takes a period in hospital to fully appreciate the reality of what they do – often in the face of appalling abuse, threats, and violence.

Without going into unnecessary medical detail, I spent three days and two nights being treated on a ward at Darlington Memorial Hospital last week, and the experience was both shocking and inspirational.

(Image: Stuart Boulton)

It’s no secret that the NHS is struggling to cope under the immense strain of a growing population, and I know not everyone has a positive story to tell.

But, in my case, I was treated with great care and efficiency after making a 111 call from home and having a hospital appointment arranged swiftly.

In the room I was taken to, on Ward 43, the nursing staff were caring for six patients, including a man with clear mental health issues. Severely disturbed, he hardly stopped crying out, despite the best efforts of the nursing staff to keep him calm at all hours of day and night.

As they tried to keep him under control, and administer his treatment, I watched in admiration as the nursing team displayed incredible care, tolerance, and courage.

Yes, courage really was a key requirement because of what they faced from a man who, it should be stressed, had no idea what he was doing.

He swore at them, called them b******s (and much worse) – spat at them, and threatened to punch them in the face if they came near him. I saw two nurses being bitten while doing their best to help him.

“Give him a f****** lethal injection,” shouted another of the patients, in a display of ignorance in contrast to the humanity being shown by the hospital team.

Throughout it all, the nurses – one male and the rest female – coped with everything that was thrown at them.

They stopped the disturbed patient from harming himself, cleaned him up when he messed himself, gave him his medicines while he fought to stop them, and gently reassured him.

Whether someone with such severe psychological problems should have been on a general ward, instead of a specialist unit, is a question for those higher up.

But those on the frontline have no choice but to deal with it. For them, it’s just another day – or night – at work.

And, while the disturbed patient inevitably demanded much of their attention, they also did their best to look after the needs of the rest of us: taking blood pressure, checking oxygen supplies, reading heart monitors, fetching bedpans, making beds.

“I’m really sorry – this isn’t exactly conducive to people getting the rest they need in order to get better, is it?” the male nurse said to me at three in the morning after a particularly upsetting episode in the night shift.

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault,” I replied. “You do an amazing job – I don’t know how you cope,” I replied.

“I’ve got friends from university, making a lot more money in other jobs, and they ask me why I do it, but it’s because I want to make a difference and help people,” he explained.

 “One day, we’re all likely to need to have someone caring for us, so you do what you can to make it better.”

While all of this was happening inside the walls of Darlington’s main hospital, a series of violent disturbances were taking place around the country.

Far-right, racist thugs were battling with police, looting businesses, putting fear into their communities, and spreading hate.

A flashpoint during the recent disturbancesA flashpoint during the recent disturbances (Image: PA)

One of the pockets of disorder flared in the area near Darlington’s North Lodge Park, with a minority of idiots focusing their attention on a local mosque, and calling for immigrants to be sent home.

Of course, it will not have occurred to any of them that, a mile from the scene of their violent intimidation, immigrants were helping to keep the town’s local hospital running: doctors, nurses, porters, cleaners – representing a variety of nationalities – doing largely thankless jobs in the most challenging circumstances.

Like Stella, from eastern Europe, who looked after me during my stay on Ward 43. During a shift that took her through the night, I watched in awe as she quietly cared for others with devotion, skill, bravery, and the patience of a saint.

Not once did she complain or show any frustration, despite facing sickening abuse. After each task, no matter how hard, she emerged with a smile.

Recent NHS data shows that more than 17 per cent of NHS staff – 264,815 employees – are from overseas. For nurses, that percentage stands at 27 per cent, and we are desperate for more to fill the gaps.

And, before the angry keyboard warriors start spouting more baseless claims, the Migration Advisory Committee – an independent body that advises the Government – has concluded that “migrants contribute much more to the health service, and the provision of social care, than they consume in services”.

The NHS may be on its knees, but it would be in a state of complete collapse if it wasn’t being propped up by brilliant, dedicated, selfless professionals from this country and all corners of the world, doing jobs that most of us couldn’t stomach.

One day, the chances are that those cowardly thugs, strutting around in their pathetic balaclavas, while throwing rocks at police, setting fire to cars, smashing up shops and, heroically, stealing trays of pasties from Greggs, will find themselves needing the NHS – and not just because they need a tetanus jab after being bitten on the backside by a police dog.

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Some of them will find themselves on a hospital ward: perhaps needing oxygen, wired up to a heart monitor, or fitted with a morphine drip.

When they cry out in fear and pain in the middle of the night, there’s a good chance it will be a nurse from another country who comforts them.

And that care will come without a hint of discrimination.