Everyone tells me the NHS is in crisis – but that"s not what I see

It’s no secret that the NHS is fighting a battle. We see it every day in the arguments to and fro, between the NHS and the government.

Every time I log on to Facebook I’m invited to another protest against the junior doctor contracts, or about the NHS student bursaries. At one point every single message in my inbox was a petition, I spent the whole evening signing, sharing and sending them around. I wanted to save the NHS too.

Clearly, the NHS is in crisis, right? This is what the media tells me. My friends bring the topic with them when we go out to dinner, an unwanted guest at the table. Patients express their concerns and opinions. But I do not agree.

Related: Our grassroots campaign is fighting NHS bursary cuts

I’m a second-year student, a year away from being a qualified mental healthcare professional. I don’t feel my NHS is in crisis: when I walk through the doors on a placement, I don’t see the bad, I don’t see a weak NHS shaking at its knees and I most definitely don’t see a crisis.

Instead, yesterday I saw an older woman. Sitting with her and listening to her stories made me wonder what stories I would tell when I was as old and wise as her. I helped to bathe her, feed her and laughed as we watched the TV. After hours of caring for her, she asked: “Who are you?” I won’t deny that it hurt, but I knew that her need for me to care for her was more important than my need for her to remember what I did.

Yesterday I saw a young woman. I became her friend for the day. Her numerous medical requirements meant I had to work much harder to keep her safe. She wouldn’t let me do her physical observations, but I persevered. She wouldn’t come for her medication, so we brought it to her. She didn’t want to eat alone, so I got some dinner and we ate together. Then, at the end of the shift, she didn’t want me to go home.

Related: Neonatal nursing is an amazing job, but it takes an emotional toll

I saw a child. Scared and afraid, she cried out for her parents, but they weren’t there. I sat up with her in the patients’ living room at 2am. I brought her a hot chocolate and sat with her in silence as she didn’t want to speak. She wanted to be free of the pain she felt. “Why am I here?” she asked. “Do my family hate me because they think I’m crazy?” Nothing I could say would reassure her, but I didn’t give up. I stayed with her until she fell asleep at 7am.

Instead of seeing a crisis, I see an NHS that needs more support, more love and more care. The NHS that has cared for all of us is asking us to care for it too. It’s daunting being for students caught up in this crossfire, yet we continue to stay because we want to make a difference.

Next time you are about to say “the NHS is in crisis”, replace it with “the NHS is in need of care, love and support”. Help to build your NHS and don’t contribute to its destruction. Not every baby who cries is in a crisis, it may just require some nurturing before the wails pass.

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Everyone tells me the NHS is in crisis – but that"s not what I see