What I learned from my FACEM mum
Growing up, kids are asked, ‘Who is your biggest idol?’ They usually reply with a celebrity, a famous scientist, an artist, or a musician. My response to this question has remained the same for my entire life: my idol is my mum, Anna, a FACEM.
The obvious reason for this choice would be because she saves lives for a living – and this is very impressive. But there are other people who save lives, on larger and more widely known scales. For me, what makes my mother so special isn’t necessarily what she does, but the attitude she brings to her work.
“Questions of mortality have been at the forefront of my mind since I could understand what death meant – with Mum reminding me, every so often, that if she’s ever in a vegetative state I should not hesitate to turn off the machine.”
She’s proactive, deeply caring and empathetic. She has this power to get people to open up and tell her their deepest problems, which is a useful skill to have as a doctor, and as a mother. My mum sees her profession, and her life more broadly, as one of great privilege, and doesn’t take her position within the medical system for granted. She sees her role as something impactful and important (sometimes too much so, spending sleepless nights after a shift fixating on what scans she should have ordered, or diagnoses she may have missed).
As the daughter of a FACEM, I have been exposed to a unique world and perspective from a young age. Questions of mortality have been at the forefront of my mind since I could understand what death meant – with Mum reminding me, every so often, that if she’s ever in a vegetative state I should not hesitate to turn off the machine.
I know that many FACEMs struggle to navigate parenting while working in this line of work – my mum certainly has. From the child’s perspective, the most important thing for me was that, even though Mum wasn’t around as much as Dad, when she was with my sister and I, she was present. We had her undivided attention – she made sure that the time we did have together was quality time.
This could not have worked, however, if it weren’t for my dad. My parents saw their relationship, and childrearing, as a team effort. Dad took on the role of primary caregiver, dealing with the logistics of household management, school drop offs and pick ups. He dedicated so much time and love to raising us when Mum wasn’t around, and I am thankful for this.
Mum treated us like adults. She was the opposite of patronising and didn’t censor her life to shield us from difficult subjects, or experiences. She respected my thoughts and opinions, made me feel included, and like an important part of her life. While careful to maintain doctor-patient confidentiality, she would ask my opinion on various cases, and use me as a sounding board to confront some of the many difficult questions that face emergency physicians.
This has cultivated a strong relationship between us, based on mutual respect, admiration and trust. It also meant that, when she was working long hours and not with us, I understood why.
“I’ve been lucky enough to talk to many intelligent, empathetic, and inspirational physicians who care deeply about the work they do. This has opened my eyes to the kind of impact I want to be making on the world.”
As a teenager, I would hang out at the ED flight deck after school, waiting for Mum to finish up so she could give me a lift home. I got used to the smells of blood and disinfectant (though vomit I still struggle with) and prided myself on my lack of squeamishness.
Sometimes, one of the older nurses would tap me on the shoulder and tell me that they recognised me from when I was a baby, and Mum would breastfeed me in the consultant office.
When I turned 18 and started studying at university, I got a job as an ED ward clerk. I found it fascinating. I spent time with people, spanning different ages, backgrounds and clinical diagnoses, often on one of the worst days of their lives. It was a revolving door of the human experience, and a great equaliser.
“I’m grateful for being a part of the ED community from such a young age. It’s how I’ve been raised, and I think I’m a better person for it.”
As a child, I didn’t quite understand what Mum meant when she said she felt deeply privileged to do what she does – a job that has it’s really hard days and could sometimes feel thankless. But working at the entry point of the ED made me feel like, in some miniscule way, I could ease people’s anxieties coming into hospital. I was part of a system that actually helped people. I felt that bubbling satisfaction that comes from making a difference, and it gave my part-time uni job an incredible amount of purpose. There’s a real ward-clerk-to-healthcare-provider pipeline, because of how the job impacts a person.
I worked with my mother in the department and I saw what her workday looked like. I wasn’t in the cubicle with the patients, but I was the first one who saw them when they came in, and I was on the phone to their families, and the doctors and nurses looking after them. I saw how busy it could get in the department, and how calm and in control my mum, and those around her, seemed in these moments of crisis.
Since finishing university, working at the College has also given me a greater understanding of the emergency medicine world. I’ve been lucky to talk to many intelligent, empathetic, and inspirational physicians who care deeply about the work they do. This has opened my eyes to the kind of impact I want to be making on the world.
I miss working on the ED floor, and how you can directly access and impact people’s lives, when they need help most. I miss that sense of privilege my mum feels, which allows her to invest so heavily in her professional life.
I’m grateful for being a part of the ED community from such a young age. It’s how I’ve been raised, and I think I’m a better person for it. I treasure the conversations I’ve had with the broader emergency medicine community, who will continue to inspire me as I move on to the next chapter of my life. My skills aren’t in STEM, despite my mother’s legacy. So instead, I’m leaving the world of emergency medicine to pursue a law degree. I hope this will put me on a path where I can help others navigate the difficult moments of their lives in a tangible way – like my mother does.
