Hospital Porter Secrets: “One of the least enjoyable aspects of the job is the corpses”

“I have been a porter at Harefield Hospital in West London for 42 years. I must have been 18 when I saw the job. I used to work in their theaters before I went over to the regular bouncers and have stayed here ever since. I must say that I liked it from the first minute. I think it’s all interaction with the patient. You are truly connected to them. When I started, they only implemented heart transplantation. Each patient came for six months, so you got to know them and their families very well. Everything happens much faster these days. Progress. Now transplant patients can be brought in and discharged within a few days.

Every day at this job is different. One day you will meet Mr. Smith, tomorrow Mr. Brown, and you can never predict what will happen, what you will do, where you will be or who you will be. Speaking of. This is a separate world, a hospital. Harefield has about 200 beds and is scattered over a fairly large piece of land, lots of habitat, lots of corridors – and no, I’m not lost again. This involves a lot of walking. On an average day, I take about 25,000-30,000 steps, which is about 10 miles. Patients love the gardens here; beautiful flowers in spring.

Now I’m Deputy Chief Porter and my job is to make sure we have everything in order every day: schedules, all the paperwork – there’s a lot of worksheets to fill out these days – and then, of course, we have to get patients. . where you need it: for an X-ray, for an ECG, for a theater. One of the unpleasant parts of the job is the bodies; we see a lot of dead people. Sometimes it’s almost full [in the morgue]. You will never get used to it, but it doesn’t affect you as much as it did in the beginning. But when a young person dies, let’s say he’s 18, it’s really amazing. you do 100 [bodies] and don’t let it get you down, but an 18 year old always does that.

Much of the work is about making people feel comfortable, happy, cared for and safe. I remember once I took this girl for an X-ray and just waited with her because she was a little whiny. She told me she was so, so scared, and then she started crying. I told her what I tell all patients: that doctors and nurses know what they are doing, that they are the best, that there is nothing wrong with that. But she cried and cried and cried.

Another time I had to take an old man for an x-ray. He was 89 years old and his lungs were completely out of order. The doctor asked him if he smoked or drank, and he admitted that he drank but quit smoking. The doctor said it was good, given the condition of his lungs. Then he asked when he gave up. “Yesterday,” he said. The doctor laughed.

In this job, you have to smile or you’ll take things home. When a child dies in a children’s ward, it’s terrible, just terrible. You must learn to let it go. Usually the patients are good. Of course, the situation can become tense, and during Covid, there was tension when relatives could not visit their loved ones. Temperaments then were very high, but you understand this, and it always passed. Usually people are very grateful for our work. We always hang thank you cards for her in the office.

A lot has changed during my stay in the hospital. Currently, employees come from all over the world, especially nurses. These are Filipinos, Chinese, Taiwanese, Nigerians, Indians. They support the work of the NHS, really. During a strike, the focus is always on the medical staff. I understand that, of course, but the rest of the hospital staff is never mentioned: physical therapists, porters, cleaners, maintenance staff. Everyone in the NHS is underpaid.

But I still love this job, I really do. I love this connection with people and just being able to help, you know? Sounds trite, but it’s true. It’s great to see patients come in, recover, and then go home.”