In October 2022, I was awarded the Royal College of Nursing Learning Disability Nurse Award. Looking back one year on, apart from the honour of winning, there’s a more enduring legacy of the award than the recognition. An immediate benefit was being invited to more events to speak about the work that led to the award. This gave me a much broader platform than before and potentially enabled me to share resources, increase influence and reach a wider audience. It also gave me an incentive to gain confidence and to undertake other projects in the hope they could have a similar impact.
I’m mindful that my life as a learning disability nurse and achievements are only possible because of the people I support. Like many of my colleagues, I have increasingly focused on inclusion and working in partnership with people with learning disabilities as my career has progressed.
In my own case, reflecting on over 30 years as a learning disability nurse, I’m conscious of the impact and influence people with learning disabilities have had in my professional and personal life, how this has shaped who I am and how I view things. The project that led to me winning the award was a direct result of Michael, a man with learning disabilities I supported over many years and who died because of aspiration pneumonia.
I founded The Unsafe Swallow Project as a tribute to his resilience and the aspirational role he played in my life. Michael was outgoing, sociable and charismatic, I’m introverted, meticulous and socially awkward. Over time our differences complemented one another, and we formed a strong partnership which benefited us both. Michael was one of many people with learning disabilities I’m all the better for having known, often compensating for my failings and providing a sense of stability and focus to keep me on track.
Winning the award has also led me to recognise my own difference and how this influences my practice. I’m autistic and undertaking the work for The Unsafe Swallow Project demonstrated very clearly some of the ways my autism effects what I do and who I am. I’m highly focused and if I have an interest in something then I’ll commit myself wholly to it. This enables me to maintain concentration and prioritise areas I view as important. In many ways I see that the things I’ve achieved are because of my autism, rather than despite it – once I put my mind to something then I have no option but to see it through. That’s not to detract from the significant challenges many autistic people, including me face. I’m the opposite to most people, as making a presentation or being interviewed I’m fine with, I can predict the established rules and formality of those situations. On the other hand, the words 'chat amongst yourselves' fill me with dread and anxiety, I’m just not equipped for small talk and social ease.
My friend Robert, attended the RCN awards with me, he’s sociable and outgoing and his company provided a sense of security I would otherwise not have had, he was able to expertly navigate social situations without him I’d have struggled with. Another example of the mutual dependency I recognise in my professional and personal relationships with people with learning disabilities.
It was with a sense of achievement but also slight unease that I began to accept that I’d won the RCN Learning Disability Nurse Award. it’s not unusual for me to have a delayed response and to feel uneasy about that level of validation. I’m conscious that there will be many other people shortlisted who have done incredible work, and many more who have a significant impact and are neither nominated nor recognised. What I’m also conscious of is the acknowledgement I owe to the people with learning disabilities who have provided support and inspiration throughout my career.
There’s a quote by Maya Angelou that resonates with me when I consider the experience of people I support: "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." I now recognise that works two ways and succinctly captures my own response to the people I’m fortunate enough to support in my role as a learning disability nurse.