Survey of Junior Doctor Parents Show More Than 50% Considering Leaving NHS England

jdcchildMore than 1000 junior doctor parents have spoken up voicing grave concerns about the new contract, set to be imposed this August. In an online survey conducted in April 2016, 99.4% consider the contract will have a detrimental effect on their family life and less than 5% of respondents plan to continue their career as it currently is. 93% consider the proposed contract will have a detrimental effect on their relationship with spouse or partner. More than 25% are considering leaving the profession altogether, with a further 26% considering a move to another country.

“There are around 54,000 junior doctors. A junior doctor is anyone graduated from medical school up to consultant or GP level. Most are of child rearing ages and many have children. When doctor recruitment is already in crisis and only 5% of junior doctor parents plan to continue as is, imposition of this contract could throw the entire doctor workforce into disarray,” states survey creator, Dr Sethina Watson, junior doctor and mother of four. “This contract threatens both lives of medic children and, with a potentially reduced workforce, the lives of patients too.”

The survey asked a range of questions on current level of training, current and potential childcare and whether or not they envisaged continuing their current career should the contract be imposed. The survey identifies extreme difficulties in finding childcare, 93% state that finding childcare with the new contract will be more difficult. The governments equality analysis of the Junior Doctor contract openly states that it disadvantages women but that this ‘indirect adverse effect on women is a proportionate means of achieving a legitimate aim’. The equality analysis suggests that some women may find it easier to arrange informal, unpaid childcare in the evenings and weekends. The survey results showed that nearly 60% of respondents do not have access to such childcare. Of those who do, 86% believe it will be unreliable for ensuring attendance at work. There may be a surge in doctors requesting part-time working, which can still entail up to 55 hours per week.

Of particular concern are the doctor and doctor couples that comprise nearly 40% of those who responded. “I cannot imagine how it would be tolerable if the frequency of our weekend working were to increase; I could easily imagine this causing marital and family breakdown,” said one married male doctor.

Jeremy Hunt’s rush to impose the contract threatens to create a potential time bomb that could explode as early as August as thousands of junior doctor parents struggle to find childcare or quit their jobs. The legacy could harm generations of children and lead to a loss of thousands of years of medical training from the workforce.

Survey Results Summary:

  • 1060 Respondents
  • 84% aged 30-44
  • 82% female
  • 84% married/civil partnership
  • 38% have doctor partner/spouse
  • 38% full time employment, 41% less-than-full-time
  • 39% caring for one, 39% caring for two
  • 59% use nursery and 58% spouse for additional childcare
  • 34% ST 5+
  • Of those choosing to stay in medicine 58% will stay in speciality
  • 40% spend between 20-39% of net household income on childcare
  • 58% do not have access to unpaid informal childcare, those who do 86% say not robust or reliable enough for work
  • If contract comes in 48% plan to use partner for childcare, 48% don’t know what they will do (you could have more than one answer for combination arrangements)
  • 75% expect to pay for this additional childcare
  • 93% said that finding more childcare would be more difficult
  • 4.6% will continue their career as it currently is
  • Those considering other options 87% cite impact on children, 79% impact on spouse, 53% cannot afford further childcare, 77% emotional strain and stress as key factors
  • 74% state the proposed contract will definitely have a detrimental impact on their relationship with spouse/partner (19% state probably)
  • 93% state it will definitely have a detrimental effect on family life and 6% say it probably will

Complete survey findings are available JDCchildcaresurvey2016.

Survey conducted by Dr Sethina Watson, Anaesthetics Trainee, mother of four and former founder of MomMD.com. Follow me on Twitter @morefluids.

For a short link to this survey use http://wp.me/p3pm8R-bk

Featured in The Guardian – Junior doctors: ‘over half could quit NHS England over Hunt’s contract’ and Hospitals braced for walkout as Hunt says doctors’ strike must be defeated.

For more information on the survey and permission to use findings, please contact me below

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Impatiently Waiting

Dolly is getting a wash.

Dolly is getting a wash.

Still no microbiology results. It’s been a week since her admission. I started to worry about the lateness of this results. Largely in part due to her newborn screen taking three weeks as they verified her rare CF gene. I started thinking they are repeating things. Something must be bad. But apparently everyone’s are delayed due to the bank holiday. I hope so. I really hope so.

One week down and I cannot wait to pack up her things and take her home. The thought of one more week is driving me mad. I feel that the family is fragmented into small bits and we are all apart. Zac is being looked after by our lovely nanny Jema, he’s managing somehow. Minty wakes up each morning and calls Zac through the door. My older girls are trying to keep themselves busy this half term, largely looking after themselves as I cannot take them anywhere really. It feels like I’ve not seen them at all in weeks. I miss them all. I just want us all together in one house at the same time. It’s made worse by both my husband and I have a particularly bad run of shifts at work. We’ve not had a weekend together as a family in two months. But that’s another story.

Minty has changed in the past week. She has grown up. I’ve changed. We’ve all changed but I don’t know how. You would never know in looking at her what she is taking in her stride. Her long line is still leaking but still in place. Her wee smells bad, one of the antibiotics I assume. She’s coping well in one small room. The room is hot. Stifling at night. It’s hard to sleep. It’s no wonder patients spike temperatures all the time. We run in and take cultures when perhaps all that’s needed is a open window! She’s taken to cleaning the room with baby wipes, then sucking them. This is driving my CF mum and infection control side bonkers. She wipes the bins, under things, cupboards, then wipes her face, sucks it and laughs. Argh!! When I take away the offending wipe she screams in utter fury. How dare you, she looks. She then wipes the floor, our shoes and then her face. My mind boggles with MRSA, E Coli and who knows what else. The more I try and stop her, the more determined she is. She sees the cleaners in the room several times a day and is copying them. She gives meds to her dollies and who knows, perhaps one day she will be a doctor or a nurse (I hope not!)

Being on the other side of ‘doctoring’ I am so much more aware of how patients must feel. We wait. We wait all the time.

For results.

For medicines.

For ward rounds.

For time to pass.

For medicines to work.

For tests.

For going home.

For drinks.

For meals.

For discharge plans.

For discharge letters.

For discharge meds.

We learned in medical school how patients adopt the sick role. To a certain extent you have to as everything is beyond your control you have to accept that you will wait and rely upon those around you. The waiting is of no means a criticism of the staff that are caring for her. They are caring for loads of other patients too. We are all flat out. It’s the way the system seems to operate, the culture of being in hospital. I never fully realised when you sit there waiting all day to chat to the doctors, the few minutes they come in and out is a flash in a very long day. You always are left with questions.

On a positive note, we’re learning some great new physiotherapy techniques from her twice daily physio sessions. She’s enjoying them and we can’t wait to add them to our routine at home.

Tomorrow our Magical Minty Skydive Team is collecting money for the CF Trust. Very exciting indeed. A permit has been granted by the council, so in Park Street and Queen’s Rd, Bristol buckets and t-shirts are out. We may try and pop out if we can. It’s only 1/2 a mile or so from the children’s hospital.

Thank you to everyone who has supported us so far. Thanks for messages and emails x

Araminta

During my pregnancy we went round and round in circles looking for names. My husband and I simply could not agree. We started looking for names that ‘were a bit different’. My husband told me how he once met a girl called Minty. I loved it initially but thought who could actually call their child Minty!! Bonkers. But we looked up the origin of the name and found Araminta. We added that to our list, should it be a girl.

When she was born we spent all day going over and over, could we actually use this name. Will people think we are silly. In the postpartum room I read up on the amazing Araminta Tubman and it was decided there and then. Who was Araminta Tubman? She was born in 1820 and was one of the strongest, toughest women of her era. Born into slavery she escaped and led more than 300 slaves to freedom via an underground railroad. She was a suffragette, a humanitarian and spy. As a child she was beaten by her ‘owners’ suffering a severe head wound which plagued her for life, causing seizures, narcoleptic attacks and severe headaches. Harriet Tubman, widely known and well-respected while she was alive, became an American icon in the years after she died. A survey at the end of the 20th century named her as one of the most famous civilians in American history before the Civil War. She inspired generations of African Americans struggling for equality and civil rights. ‘Minty’ Tubman told others when she died she ‘will go to prepare a place for you’.

Naming our daughter after such an amazing woman seemed apt and an honour. Same day we found out her Ghanaian great grandparents were called Minta. We gave her the name of a strong, independent woman who fought her life through great adversity and hardship. Little did we know that 3 weeks later we would be told our darling Minty had a life-shortening condition of cystic fibrosis.

ImageMinty is now one and what a strong little darling she is. She’s proving to be feisty, energetic, humorous and assertive. Everyday she kicks the ass out of CF. She will be an inspiration to us I am sure. Rancid tasting medications, physio and infection is part of her daily life. We are used to it now. Last year we were in a dark place and now we are totally and utterly dedicated to supporting her and hoping for a cure. Who knows what her future holds? I hope it is a bright one.

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So where are we now? Next week she has her yearly check up, including her first bloods and chest x-ray. I am hoping that all is well and the continuous coughs and colds she’s had most of the year have caused no lung damage. (P.S. please add yourself to the organ donation register as someone and their family would love your lungs should tragedy befall).

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We’ve amassed a huge array of blowing toys for physiotherapy – many of which come from my lovely brother and his wife (a community paediatric consultant who has to deliver such diagnosis to other families). These are great as they help create positive end expiratory pressure which splints the lungs open nicely. Great gifts for any child with CF. (Avoid bath toy gifts with holes in that collect water and culture hazardous moulds). CF physio can be fun!! Siblings can join in too.

I’ve met and talked to some other amazing parents who’s children have CF. We’ve cried together and shared our stories. We give each other hope and support.

2013 was pretty bad in places, so I wanted to start 2014 with a bang. So I have assembled a team of amazing people who are going to jump 10,000 feet out of a plane with me to raise money for the CF Trust. Scared to death of it. Freefalling at 120mph might put hairs on my chest, or rather blow them off. I am humbled and extremely grateful for the folk who are joining me in this challenge. Why raise money for the trust? CF is a life shortening condition that kills thousands worldwide and is carried unknowingly in the genes of millions. There are around 10,000 people living with CF in the UK, only half will celebrate their 40th birthday. In the UK five babies each week are born with it and two people lose their lives to the condition. We MUST raise money to find a ‘cure’, help people and their families live better lives with the condition.

Please visit our team fundraising page and consider sponsoring us, however little you can give, many will appreciate it.

We are JUMPING FOR HOPE!!

P.S. Next week I find out if my anaesthetics training application was successful. Nervous.

The Stool of Power

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It has been found again despite my attempt at hiding it. Note sharp knife and ceramic hob within easy reach. Someone please remind me how long this terrible twos business lasts?!

This morning – I want the red bowl. No orange. No red. No orange. *Screams*

Banish this Stool of Power/Mischief/Danger forever.

Coping Mosaic

Getting through the day as a busy mum?! I used the following coping strategies: mugs of yummy tea, moments of beauty in the garden, baked goods including this Malteser Tray Bake and, admiring the beauty of my children and never taking them for granted.

My 14 week old daughter's chubby feet as she is asleep.

My 14 week old daughter’s chubby feet as she is asleep.

Nature's beauty. Flowers in my garden.

Nature’s beauty. Flowers in my garden.

Delicious tray bake, heck I'll even eat for breakfast. Don't tell my kids.

Delicious tray bake, heck I’ll even eat for breakfast. Don’t tell my kids.

Mum's mug of tea. Cannot live without it.

Mum’s mug of tea. Cannot live without it.

Toddlers & Teens: The Twilight Times

Sometimes I look at my children and I think , “Bloody hell, I’m their mother. I’ve no idea what I’m doing.” Truly, each day comes and goes and I hope I’ve just done my best. I hope I’ve given them some happy times, good food, love, hugs and not shouted too much. But parenting brings such new challenges every day. I have to constant re-evaluate myself, adapt and proceed with that unknown outcome of producing sane adult children. I am in envious awe of you parents with grown up, well adjusted adult children. You deserve to sit back and feel smug at your success. I’ve no idea how you got there, but you did.

As a mum of four I’m often asked, “how do you do it?” Honestly, I’ve no idea. My four are in groups of two separated by ten years! That makes quite a difference really. In some ways it makes it easier, but at the moment I am going through the challenges of having both a toddler and teens. My delightful little three month old daughter with cystic fibrosis (another story) easily just fits into the bigger picture. But step into my house between the hours of 4pm and 8pm and you will descend into another world, a twilight zone. That is when you will see my most frazzled. It begins post toddler nap, after which he always has a meltdown, and he is then stuffed into a car to pick up his older sisters from school. He likes to wear his dressing gown and space monkey pyjamas at all times at the moment. They sometimes stick to his chubby little body with jam, sand and whatever else he’s been into that day. If you see me in the bank with such a child, do forgive me and don’t judge, for its easier to take him like that than face another tantrum. Pick your battles I say.

The school run complete we return home for toddler supper that coincides with infant cluster breast feed (between 5 and 7.30pm). This also happens to occur at teen snack time, of which they always ask me “What can I eat?” and evening meal preparation. Really evening meal overlaps with toddler and baby bath and bedtime. I can stick the rice on and run upstairs to bath one, while breastfeeding the other or the baby has to wait screaming until I can get to her. The act of producing a home cooked meal at this time I consider a small miracle. In a word – it’s CHAOS! Chaos hopefully filled with laughter, tears, frustration and lots of love. Please forgive me that if I answer the phone during that time or you ask me a question, I’ve no idea how I will respond, I may be short with you. This is far more challenging to me than many of my days struggling with the demands of being a junior doctor.

Rather apt, trying to balance the see saw of ages.

Rather apt, trying to balance the see saw of ages.

Now it has struck me now that I am facing very similar challenges in parenting a toddler and a teen. I have my lovely 12 year old, she’s almost 13, so for sake of argument let’s call her a teen. And, my oldest is 14, soon to be 15 (read her excellent blog here) has already traversed some difficult stops on the teen journey, but at the moment is on a nice smooth flat section of the teen rollercoaster. My toddler pushes me to the limit, he’s seeking his boundaries. “I WANT BISCUIT. I WANT CHOC-CA-LAT” he has been known to scream at 5.15am when he wants breakfast. “No, darling, we don’t eat biscuits or chocolate for breakfast” is what I try and say. Really, I want to scream “FOR F~@$’s sake WE DON’T EAT THAT FOR BREAKFAST. I AM IN CHARGE HERE, YOU WILL DO AS I SAY!”

Whatever, we parents have been given the tough job of not causing emotional damage and setting the example. Crikey, we must be perfect. But I can tell you what, my kids have unfortunately heard me use some very bad words, shout and scream and throw my own tantrums. Now, never mess with a MUM TANTRUM as they can far out-do any toddler or teen. Now my toddler has found a new object of joy. An object of mischief. It’s his Stool of Power. This red plastic stool has been introduced as my latest parenting challenge. It came with an electronic drum kit, which I have hidden as it has only one volume – extremely loud. (Manufacturers, I’m sure you don’t want your drum kit implicated in some parent-child altercation, so please put a bloody volume control on it.) Now the Stool of Power goes everywhere with him. It has enabled him to reach into drawers containing matches, find sharp knives, pull down books, pick up the kettle using no handles just the bare metal (thankfully it was cold) and other such mischief. I need eyes in the back of my head to see where and what he is using the stool for. Rationalising that touching the ceramic hob after I’ve made a stir fry is going to hurt doesn’t seem to work. I am forever providing safe limits to his testing of boundaries. If you see me in the Emergency Department (where I may well run into my husband as he’s there more than at home at the moment) with a toddler in pyjamas, screaming baby and grumpy teen, know that I did try, honestly I did try.

Now where can I begin with the joys of parenting teens…. My oldest daughter’s recent blog post of the challenges of living with a Belieber will give you some insight. I find myself facing different boundary challenges. What is acceptable speak between mother and child, when to come to the table for supper, how I cannot buy yet another thing and so on and so on. Now, I come from the school of frank parenting. I don’t like the idea of my girls not being equipped with the things I didn’t know. So we have frank chats about:

  1. condoms (and how they aren’t 100% reliable)
  2. sexuality
  3. trimming pubic hairs
  4. waxing hair on the upper lip
  5. how never to get a credit card (if you do make the limit tiny)
  6. how to use a debit card
  7. not to go to there area as that’s where the doggers go (“What are doggers?”. We’ll come back to that one.)
  8. to save for a pension
  9. to save for a deposit on a house
  10. how to make a delicious pastry

I always have my ‘lectures’, hopefully some of it will go in. I just want them to be loved and grow up and be happy. Hopefully, not get a job as a pole dancer or doctor (but I will love you even if you do). But teens.. they really try me to the limits of my patience. It’s not that long ago that I remember the teen years, but believe me I do know that I didn’t know a lot of stuff. So, I SPEAK FROM WISDOM and EXPERIENCE my lovelies. I find the teens so often depicted on TV and the movies so obnoxious, the parent’s so dysfunctional and they seem to talk so rudely to each other. I hope this isn’t what my girls think is normal teenage behaviour. I hate the sexualised music videos, the constant depiction of seeking love and losing your virginity. I find myself asking for things to be turned off and sounding like my own mother! Our latest attempt to blend our family into one functioning unit, complete with happy memories, is to embark upon camping trips. This has met with considerable teen groans. Disdain even, as my embarrassing ‘Mum-Mobile’ arrives to pick them up from school. A seven-seater enormous ‘car’ complete with roof box. I do suggest that they may walk. We must be mad to consider camping with teens, a baby with CF and a toddler. But I’ve got a spread sheet checklist for all eventualities – slightly embarrassing, but organisation is key to everything.

Vehicle of Embarrassment

Vehicle of Embarrassment

Must go as toddler now has a heavy metal object and is swinging it over the head of little baby sleeping peacefully. Oh, she is saved by him trying to put Borat into the DVD player. Which shall I retrieve first? All this and it’s not even 9am. But I’m filled with this feeling that this time is short. My girls are growing older and I can count the family Christmas’s left with them living at home on one hand. My youngest may not even remember living with three other siblings. I’m trying to capture memories for you in video and photos.

But let’s end on this. I love my kids, I love every one of them with their differing personalities and smells. I’ve been sniffing the tops of their heads and smoothing my chin on their soft hair since minutes after birth. I am your mummy and I hope I am doing OK. Happy Mother’s Day to my friends in America.