‘How’s your fettle?’ A question asked without fail in a broad Carlisle accent, any time I visit my Grandad and one which I sometimes don’t quite know how to answer. To be in ‘fine fettle’, means to be in good health or good spirits, and is originally derived from the late middle English verb to ‘get ready, prepare oneself for battle.’ I answer with a quiet sigh inside ‘aye Granada, I’m good.’ But deep down, I know my health could be better, my spirits are mediocre and I am no-where near prepared for battle. I would probably struggle to muster up the energy to look at the armour, let alone wear it.

I sit here writing this after having a week of annual leave in which I went to Rome. The Italian capital, the Holy City, full of so much history with every building you can see and every cobble you walk on. And I love a city break. From learning and understanding the culture, walking and exploring hidden gems, to that simple feeling of just ‘getting away’ on an aeroplane and being able to wear my sunglasses out of season, as my face soaks up some long overdue Vitamin D. I enjoyed the week in Rome. I have always wanted to see the Colosseum, The Vatican, and the Trevi Fountain, such monumental architecture; and it would have been rude to not accept the ‘complimentary’ limoncello after dinner, but I didn’t leave much time to quite simply rest.

The weeks leading up to Rome were challenging, and I would go as far as to say they were gruelling. But the job of an NHS Operational Manager is easy, because all we care about are targets, right? Wrong. Yes, there are standards we work hard to try and deliver, and to drive improvement for the benefit of patients, but this is no easy task within the current climate where resources are limited and you are still being asked to deliver on those same national standards which, behind the scenes, have their own set of complexities.

But Managers don’t care right? Wrong! I for one, and know that most of my peers I work with, care about our patients; care about supporting the clinical teams both practically in service delivery, and with their health and well-being; care about the Junior Doctors who are being stretched daily, care about the Matrons working tirelessly to support their nursing teams, and the admin teams who have piles of paperwork to get through daily. And there are many more groups of staff involved in delivering just one service alone. But, whilst I’m out on the floor, whilst I’m meeting the endless deadlines, whilst I’m working the long hours or the 52 hour weeks which are swept under the carpet; whilst I’m spinning all of the metaphorical plates and whilst I’m making sure everyone else is ok, I must also be looking after myself, right? Wrong. And this is something which needs to change.

I would be exaggerating the truth if I said that this was the first time after period of annual leave where I have felt I needed to focus on my health and well-being. The general feeling usually lasts about a fortnight before I’m stuck on the same treadmill, unable to push the emergency stop button. So, this is me documenting my experience of improving my well-being in a bid to sustain it, and re-claim the balance I felt I once had. When you lose your balance, you wobble, and sometimes you steady yourself or sometimes you fall. And when you fall, you can recover and get back up again, or you can remain defeated; but I would like to prevent myself from falling. If you are reading this then maybe this will resonate and give you some reassurance that you aren’t alone, regardless of where you work or what you do.

My Grandad will be 91 in June. And when he next asks me ‘How’s your fettle?’ I would like to be well on my way to responding genuinely and with peace of mind, ‘aye Granda, I’m good.’