Gemma Aldridge, A&E nurse
“I treasure the outdoors. It earths me, facilitating my wellbeing”
Last year I started my mountain training journey, seeking to share an enjoyment of mountainous environments with my Cadet group.
To develop group control and gain experience I took friends out collecting quality mountain days; then a paramedic friend was having suicidal thoughts after a run of difficult jobs. He was caring for his team, but forgetting to prioritise his own wellbeing. Subsequently diagnosed with PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) type II; he educated me on the condition whilst I showed him the healing nature of the outdoors.
You’ve most likely heard of PTSD, officially recognised in 1980 and linked to the military, but examples are found documented even in Shakespeare’s writings. We may think of it as an ill-effect on mental health after a single event such as warfare, terrorism, or catastrophic accidents but there is another type…...repeated or sustained exposure. Type II.
I came to realise how little it was recognised in emergency services on a driver awareness course when asked to consider the impact of a crash; friends, family, work, finances. No-one considered emergency service personnel; even trainers. I educated people about the long-term effects of chronic exposure; exampling friends who attend this every day, relentlessly, whose capacity to absorb events are fast overflowing.
Since then I took more groups out on mountain experiences, ambulance staff, nursing and volunteering friends. Mountains are not prescribed treatment, but can complement therapies, and expand our resilience for stress, hopefully avoiding mental health illness and crisis. When I complete the Mountain Leader (ML) award I’ll extend the offer beyond cadets, friends and colleagues. But recently plans were all put on hold… Covid-19 arrived to the UK.
The beginning saw small changes in the A&E department I work in, screening travellers who developed a cough or temperature, donning gowns, wearing ventilated hoods to assess patients. But it rapidly escalated; our environment changed-sometimes daily. Staff were redeployed, zones introduced, new guidance, new policies, wear a gown/don’t wear a gown, change your mask type, don’t let family in, stay behind the line, people dying, whilst others were whisked away to ITU.
As fast as managers received information, they shared it, sometimes mid-shift. The difficulties weren’t caring for patients; this is inherent to what we do, our core, instinctive. The challenge was adapting to frequent change, absorbing new ways of working and keeping up with information so patients felt safe and confident in our care.
Mountain trips were canceled. ML assessments canceled. I treasure the outdoors; it earths me, facilitating my wellbeing. I’ve always been conscious of it being my coping strategy. For weeks I utilised the lowlands, saltmarshes and nature at home. But it wore, I wore. I missed mountains. After three months I messaged my ML provider “Phill! I’ve got to visit the mountains!” The Peak District is achievable as a day trip. A route was agreed including scrambles, peaks and navigation through undulating peat.
The rain poured, relentlessly obscuring my view, seeping through waterproofs until my skin had wrinkled. A punishing climb up slippery rocks, 131 days of zero ascents felt in my legs; it was blissful. “There’s a cloudberry-Jim taught me about them in his webinar” “I can’t see, I’ll walk on a bearing” Rocks and plants perfectly adapted to the acidic environment, resilient to rainfall. Everything was back in perspective; Covid-19, our work, a tiny fragment of life; changes small, temporary. Just as the rocks eroded slowly, so too did my moodiness; I experienced healing in the mountains.
I found some self-confessed gym-monkeys lost and pointed to them the direction home. Covid-19 pushed them up their first mountain and as I offered to photograph their achievement at the trig-point they stripped off, soaked and cold to pose delighted. I laughed possibly the first true laugh in weeks. I returned elated, QMD logged, ready to work. As I shared the tale with colleagues, they requested a mountain escape too.
As everything returns to normal so do my objectives and motivation to complete the ML award. I’m planning three trips; one for my ambulance and volunteering friends, one for my A+E colleagues; some respite awaits. It’s an opportunity to widen their coping strategies hopefully minimising the risk of PTSD type II from the scenes we have seen and situations still evolving from Covid-19; from the sustained period of stress emergency services have worked through.
The third trip will complete my ML assessment and finally allow my very patient cadets to experience the accomplishment of a mountain summit.