I left the UK a year ago, accepting a temporary work contract in Australia. I now find myself uncertain if I can return home. I am a UK doctor, an NHS supporter, and I am panicking on the other side of the world.
I awoke last week to a social media furore from friends and colleagues in the UK.
A consensus of anger and outrage reigned. And repeatedly I saw #juniorcontract.
A few clicks later and I too was erupting.
The new non-negotiable contract means doctors will receive a pay cut of up to 40%. This will force many to leave the profession or seek work abroad to service their student debts and mortgage commitments. With the NHS already facing crippling staff shortages, patient care will be further compromised and the privatisation of our health service becomes inevitable.
Over 10,000 miles away, I am frantically reading articles and opinions, trying to make sense of the limited information provided by NHS Employers. As we attempt to objectify the contract to predict our futures, the headlines are beginning to build. Yet you may ask: why am I so concerned? You may think I am a lucky one who got out in time.
I completed my UK medical degree in 2012 and began foundation training – atumultuous two years where I learnt, laughed, wept and got very little sleep. At the end of the programme I was undecided between a career in general practice or paediatrics. Unfortunately, since the introduction of the modernising medical careers (MMC) reform in 2005, juniors can no longer experience multiple disciplines after foundation without detriment to training pathways. It is for this reason that I sought opportunities abroad to broaden my clinical skills and focus my career plans.
So here I am in sunny Australia working as a principle house officer in paediatrics. I am contracted to work a 76-hour fortnight and receive extra pay for evening, night and weekend shifts. I am therefore working roughly half the hours a month compared to my previous post in the UK, and yet receive double the pay. My role is well-supported and is infinitely rewarding.
But as the NHS crumbles I feel guilty, like I have somehow defected in the hour of need. My life here is brilliant. It is as you imagine: sunny days and surf lessons. Yet like my counterparts I feel an unwavering loyalty to the NHS as it once was. As British trainees we feel compelled to be active in the recovery process, yet with increasing government-placed obstacles, this may be a hurdle too far. I want to come home and be part of the service I value so greatly. But with the reality of an unstable career, reducing pay and dwindling job satisfaction would I be a fool to return?
Over the past decade NHS workers have faced pay cuts, pension losses, removal of hospital accommodation and widely criticised training changes. They have plodded on, passionate about delivering excellent patient care, free at the point of access, despite a deteriorating public perception. They are motivated by a moral obligation and a greater belief, in which a functioning NHS is worth more than personal commitments and financial gain.
I am proud to say the NHS workforce has approached this catastrophic contract with the gusto they apply to every on-call shift, cardiac arrest and new-born delivery. As you read this they are meeting across the country, lobbying politicians and raising public awareness. But this is not their fight, it is not my fight, it is ours. As a nation we must unite to salvage the health service that has provided for us all, to protect not only our health but that of future generations.
If you would like to write a blogpost for Views from the NHS frontline, read our guidelines and get in touch by emailing healthcare@theguardian.com.
Join our network to read more pieces like this. And follow us on Twitter (@GdnHealthcare) to keep up with the latest healthcare news and views.
