A home full of love

Parenting alone after the sudden death of my husband Barry a few years ago was hard.

The priority was to protect my children and their way of life. There were challenges around caring for and organising four children at different stages of schooling, while navigating through grief and loss. The first year was an utter fog but as time passes we are a closely knit, loving and humorous unit.

A lot was made do-able by accepting the need to ask for, and take, help from family and friends. It got easier when I accepted that our shared life is far from smooth – sometimes appointments are forgotten and I’ve to buy stuff on the run.

The homeschooling period was a crazy add-on in terms of daily mayhem. Not sweating the small stuff became a survival strategy not just a motto.

The loneliness of being a solo parent has been more difficult to manage – late in the evening and early mornings were especially tough. But I can see I was lucky to have had what went before –and face forwards as much as I can.

Other relationships change a lot after the loss of your partner and I was less prepared for that. Some slip away, others become more supportive.

Overcoming doubts

In secondary school I was into art and English but through babysitting for a local GP I became interested in becoming a doctor and as the years go by my fascination with the body and mind only grows.

But several times I questioned if it was for me – after second year in Medicine, and during my fourth year of anaesthesia and intensive care training when I witnessed a traumatic death of a toddler.

I questioned my ability to stay in medicine. I still remember that child’s name, I can see their chubby face and blonde curls.

But, ironically, after working my way through that emotional upheaval it strengthened my resolve to not only continue as a doctor, but to focus on caring for sick babies and children.

To have and to hold

I met my husband Barry, an investment banker, at a Christmas party when I was in training twenty-two years ago. We were married within a year. The next year, when our son Arthur arrived, I was a senior registrar working 24-36 hour shifts.

He took some of his first steps in the doctors residence when Barry brought him in at the weekend to visit me. A couple of years later we travelled to Australia with Arthur and our six-week-old daughter Estella so that I could start a fellowship training post in the Royal Children’s Hospital. My superb mother-in-law, Betty, came with us and stayed to help for several months.

The path to becoming a consultant in any specialty and having a young family remains very difficult, despite the extremely limited introduction of family friendly measures.

The first ten years after graduation still favours those without families; doctors move post and/or city every six to 12 months, work in excess of 39 hours weekly, while engaging in research and studying.

Critical routine

I’m up at 5:45 and I would love to say I go for a run or do yoga but I’m straight into housework. I listen to podcasts as I do the laundry – I find doing it calming – empty the dishwasher, make lunches and prep dinner. I wake the kids and we have breakfast together.

The time I leave work is harder to control than when I start and this means there is little to do when I get home.

The whiteboard on the fridge outlines my eight-year-old’s schedule. The other kids can look after him and themselves: they are now 14, 16 and 20. I write up what is for dinner – the question I’m most asked.

They know when they come home to look at the whiteboard for directions to get things ready. We sit down to eat and then split up for the evening to do homework etc. From September to May this is the drill.

My children know what to expect when I’m on call at the weekend – I can be called in suddenly at any time and they still don’t like it.

I really love my work in the intensive care unit, the paediatric intensive care team and the relationships with parents. It is wonderful when they send in photos of their child months or years later – these spur us on.

Into the fray

I was recently elected president of the Irish Medical Council, the statutory regulatory body for doctors. I decided to get involved a few years back as I was frustrated with the same issues that it seemed like we had been discussing for 20 years.

Having said many times the Medical Council should continue to be led by a doctor engaged in active practice – I had to put my money where my mouth was when the vote came in.

The role is an enormous honour and mandate to push for changes in healthcare. The Irish health and social care environment are very depleted in resources and trust after decades of no vision. Staff shortages in all grades threaten our ability to care for people. We can’t retain trained staff as other countries provide respectful working conditions with great career development.

Every day at work I remind people doctors are patients, as are our families. We are all the public and we all want good medical care, funded and provided by the State. The Medical Council protects the public by maintaining high standards in education and training, registering a doctor, supporting doctors to do their job, and investigating what has happened when a patient makes a complaint.

More focus needs to be on the first three aspects, in order to reduce the events that lead to complaint.

Seizing the opportunity

I’m not disciplined enough with emails. I find it less stressful if I keep on top of a certain amount of things.

Since I’ve been appointed to the Medical Council I have gone half-time in Crumlin. It would have been impossible otherwise.

I had doubts before accepting, not to do with the role but if this was the right time in my life, ultimately I thought: “now is your chance”.

My instinct was I should wait, but I spoke to friends, people I really trusted who advised me it’s here now, who knows what might change.

Imposter syndrome, I never identified with this before. With my work I have always been well trained to do everything, but with this role it’s a big jump.

I explain I need help, ask to be sent reading material and then get across whatever I need to. I don’t have legal training other than what was provided by the council so I have to pedal fast but I find it extremely interesting work.

The last three years I was doing a lot of work with the Medical Council anyway, so the appointment has allowed me to regularise my week. If anything it is easier as I can now set aside two full days to specifically do the Medical Council work. It’s put me in a calmer place.

I find it easier to corral myself into just doing the job when I go into work – the office or Crumlin. I’m more productive – otherwise I am a devil for putting on a wash.

One role is helpful with the other. I am used to looking after people who are having the worst week of their life. I am used to sitting in rooms helping those who may be angry and upset.

Switching off

I never really did discuss work with Barry because he found things to do with kids being sick really upsetting. Maybe this was a mistake as it sometimes put a distance between us.

On bad days, my colleagues might ring each other in the evening – we check in and offer support. Currently there are six of us, we are always very short.

Since Barry died I have met so many people in a similar position. His sudden death affected a lot of people. My own brother stopped smoking, he was the same age as Barry.

The wolf at the door is there for all of us. Your life partner is suddenly gone and it is hard. I was always the person who lived in the moment, but after what has happened I do this even more.

Now, I eat the cake, buy the dress, go on holiday and accept professional challenges. I might as well.