BVA ARCHIVE: Profiles
A day in the life of Phil and Sue Jones
Phil is Consultant to the University Hospital of South Manchester NHS Trust; Sue is Head of Speech, Voice and Swallowing Services.
Wednesday is our Joint Voice Clinic Day. It takes me at least half an hour after the alarm to open my eyes fully even helped by the coffee Phil always brings He is a morning person. I'm not. There is no time when we're both at Wythenshawe Hospital, aka the University Hospital of South Manchester, the whole day so we take two cars: Phil his new red Alfa Romeo Spider, with the roof down when the sun shines, and I my, less glamorous but more spacious, Seat Toledo. We leave them in "Jurassic Park", named for its high electronic gates, mud, lakes, stones and ten minute walk from civilisation one way and the hospital the other. Some refer to South Manchester as the School of Mining or - in brief - the mines – it's certainly managed by dwarfs. Having had a lifetime of training for the role Phil does Grumpy very well now although he'd like to feel happy.
Our Joint Voice Clinic is busy. First, we discuss the issues of the day with our colleagues. After Manchester United's last performance and the mistakes Sir Alex Ferguson made in his team selection, we check the clinic list. Fortunately, for Phil, an Evertonian since, brought up in a Liverpudlian Red household, he at last learned he had a choice, David Moyes never makes a mistake. As well as patients to see, there are medical and SALT students and ENT and SALT juniors to teach. We learn a lot from them. We also keep the paperwork up-to-date with the help of our excellent clinic administrators.
The reward of our work is to hear a patient improve but those with complex voice disorders are the most interesting to assess and diagnose. We are well aware of each other's areas of expertise and, most of all, our own limitations. We don't agree about everything on every case but agree that two pairs of eyes and ears are better than one. When we have agreed on the best way forward, Phil discusses the management with the patient if surgery seems the better option and I do if it's therapy. Every so often I try to escape to make coffee as I struggle to go more than two hours without. This is easier said than done and I often get no further than boiling the kettle.
It's the one lunchtime in the week we usually spend together. One of us fetches sandwiches from the WRVS or hospital shop - never Sodexho. We are not sure what the name stands for but the "ex" must be for expensive. If we are lucky we have another cup of coffee. Lunch is eaten discussing clinic issues, patient notes and NHS management. Phil thinks the last is a good idea but is not sure who we would get in to do it. If Manchester United is playing that night, we may discuss the match. We both have season tickets at Old Trafford which is 30 minutes away from our home on the Manchester Met.
In the afternoon Phil has alternating general adult and paediatric clinics at Withington Community Hospital nearby. This enables him to stomp around saying that he was trained in all aspects of the speciality and if the youngsters nowadays can't do Ear, Nose AND Throat Surgery that does not mean he can't. I have a more variable afternoon usually some kind of management meeting. I may end up vigorously defending my corner if it's something I feel passionate about (patients, services, staff – anything the DoH is not interested in) or trying to maintain consciousness with a mental game of BS Bingo if it's DoH targets or the like.
After work, it's back home for both of us. For Phil, there is a short break usually involving a snack, a book and, in summer, watering his innumerable potted plants. He likes to think he's Italian – Cuore Sportivo and all that. He then works for a few hours usually on medico-legal reports mainly on Noise Induced Hearing Loss. I also have a short break to listen to my younger son's resume of his day. He is always concerned about how my day was. I'm not good when stressed so he likes to check as soon as possible. Samantha, the hyperthyroid cat (presumably hypothyroid cats sleep more than 24 hours a day), always manages to make the time to remind me that, while dogs have owners, she does not, and that, if I forget her dinner again she may have to find staff who don't. If my older son is home from University he often makes us an excellent vegetarian meal: otherwise it's cheese on toast. The evening is a mixture of dealing with issues related to Phil's private practice in the office and watching TV. The proportion of each depends on how tired I am.
