During the peak of the Pandemic, millions of people throughout the United Kingdom took to their doorstep and unanimously clapped for their National Health Service (NHS), key workers and the heroes of a global health tragedy.

While life during Covid seems a distant memory for many, with the world returning to a sense of normality (if that is a thing), life for people within the health service has remained ever demanding.

It has always intrigued me how the tremendous burden of people’s health and wellbeing lies on normal, mortal human beings, working as a team in all areas of the health industry. With my father, George Solomou, working as an Emergency Medical Technician within the NHS, I saw fit that who better to query on the state and soul of the Health Service, following turbulent and gruelling years.  

An Emergency Medical Technician is someone with the ability to respond towards emergency calls and evaluate, triage and deliver life-saving treatment. Or in my father’s words, "the rank below a Paramedic" (it appears I am still a child).

My opening question was plainly “why this job? Why the Emergency Health Service?”. My father paused, then revealed the story behind his career. "I went into Hotel Management after education, working in 5* Hotels in Dubai, England, America". Naturally my eyes lit up at the thought, but my dad continued calmly (that story had already been written), "then I realised I was feeding the overfed, and I wanted a more rewarding job where I was putting something back into society, so I went into the health industry".

Albeit my father’s route into the health service was abnormal, his reasoning was beyond common. For many, the decision to consistently work robustly and uncomfortably daily was taken with the goal to assist those that are most disadvantaged or damaged within society. And that is what the system is all about.

After being accustomed to the 5:30am alarm of heavy footsteps down the stairs and the tired 8pm entrances of "can you put the news on" when there’s a football or tennis match on I’m deeply engaged in, I wanted to know how often  does my dad, and those inside his work force really work: "36 hours a week, but most members of staff don’t do that, they work extra overtime to make up for their salary".

It’s no secret that those inside the NHS feel they’re being underpaid, conceivably undervalued. Withstanding uncommonly early mornings, excruciatingly lengthy hours and late homecomings are only some of the difficulties that they encounter, doing so to aid others.

When I questioned my father on the differences of working during the Pandemic compared to current, ‘calmer’ times, his response surprised me. He disclosed that "at the height of Covid, it was actually quieter for us, because people were too afraid to call the ambulance and go to hospital – now that we’ve come out of the Covid period, it’s returned to being as busy as before, which is non-stop really".

Interestingly, the times at which people roamed their windows and doorsteps in fondness were those at which the ambulance faced their ‘calmest’ period. While the busy schedule of those within the NHS would be different for all departments, it can be seen as symbolism, that work only gets tougher for those working on the front line, and that adoration should be shown at all times, not just during the country’s worst.

After asking about "the moral within the workforce currently compared to during the Covid chapter", my dad continued on the line of unusual and unpredictable answers. Of course, "moral wasn’t very good when Covid was ever present, but now we’ve come out of Covid the moral has gotten even worse". When I inquired "why so?" he sternly stated that "our salaries have not kept up with inflation, work conditions have gotten worse for many of us, for example, some of us have to wait one or two hours sometimes outside a hospital because there’s no space". The visible agitation and discontent on my father’s face made it clear that these people were trying their best on a consistent basis, but the environment surrounding the job wasn’t keeping up with that attitude. It comes as no surprise that NHS Ambulance workers have recently begun to vote on strike actions concerning pay disputes, and more on this story will certainly be heard in the news in the coming weeks, months and perhaps years. Change is intrinsic, and it is required to happen now.

Sustaining and finishing the negative spiral of questions, I asked my father what the "worst part of the job was?". A question I already knew much about, but thought was integral to display the hardship that Ambulance and healthcare workers remarkably undergo day in day out. In true British fashion my father let out a wry smile when I pondered the question, but then soberly and gravely gave me his reply. His answer was simple, but chilling, frightening and agonizing all in one. "When we do children, deaths of children… you go to shootings, you go to stabbings, but usually they’re quite easy to deal with compared to the psychological effect of dealing with children that die".

As a child, sibling, partner, parent; whatever it may be, witnessing someone close, someone of tremendous, indescribable and priceless value march on through adversity is suffering in itself. Through personal experience, I have discovered a feeling of sympathy, homage and affection to each and every key worker across the nation. The job they modestly do is invaluable and goes a long way in making society the way it is today.

Eventually, I moved on to a more light-hearted topic, and invited my dad to unveil a "happy feeling that you ever experience during or after the job, if there is one?". Thankfully, there are complimentary and favourable spirits within the Ambulance force, which my dad described as "well, all of us like doing a good job where we help somebody and either save their life or make a difference". It was at this moment that I understood exactly why my father took on being an Emergency Medical Technician. Throughout all of the strain, exhaustion and taxing nature, there was reason and intention. Imagine coming home, worn out to the limit. Imagine coming home, too tired to take a shower. Yet, imagine knowing that during your day at work you saved a fellow human being, with family, friends and loved ones from leaving Earth early. That is when I understood.

To finish off, I asked my father, "if you were to describe your job in just three words, what would they be?". His answer (although longer than three words) was straightforward. "A caring service – that’s what we try to be, anyway. Because we have to deal with everything from childbirth to stabbings, to shootings, to old people that fall out of bed, to people that are upset and depressed about life… so yes, caring". My father’s reference to the entire service sent a clear message. Even though it may be difficult, even though the economic rewards are no longer kept up with inflation, these people doing their job will stick together – and that is the key.

While the clapping has stopped, health emergencies have not. It was they who came into contact with a deadly virus every day to protect the country, and it is they who continue to safeguard us since.