Speaking on the BBC’s Today programme today, Dr Malik Ramadan, an A&E consultant at the Royal London hospital, which received 12 victims of the attack at London Bridge on Saturday, recapped the realities of dealing with a major incident. Amid tales of heroic efforts, he mentioned that some of his colleagues were avoiding nights out and alcohol while they are off duty in the anticipation that they might be needed should another attack happen.
The mantra we have collectively chosen as a nation after each of the recent terrorist atrocities has been clear: we must carry on with our lives as normal. And yet how many of us might feel a fleeting guilty twinge of anxiety the next time we walk through a crowded station or into a packed nightclub: “What if it happens to me?” As a doctor or nurse, you might also ask yourself: “What if I’m needed to work?”
I can’t say that any of these events have changed the way I, as a junior doctor, act, nor how any of my medical friends and colleagues act. Dr Ramadan, however, represents a particular medical niche: he is not only an A&E consultant, but also one who works in one of four trauma centres in London, a city that has, unfortunately, become a target for terrorists. Memories of 7/7 will doubtless be particularly clear for him and his colleagues.
One might wonder how healthy such a constant state of awareness can be for NHS staff, many of whom are already tired and overworked. Downtime is important for all of us but for those who work in A&E, regularly encountering patients on the worst day of their lives, it is crucial. To spend that time worrying about hypothetical future patients is commendable but, ultimately, unsustainable.
Although Britain has had three attacks in the past few months, such events remain mercifully rare. With our police and intelligence services doing their jobs, we can hope that peace and normality will return. Doctors and nurses will be back in the pub after work, complaining about staffing cuts and underwhelming British summers. Not because they feel some obligation to put on a brave face, but because life really does go on.
