When I first arrived at Addenbrooke’s, I never imagined I’d still be here decades later. Back then, I was working in Sheffield when the hospital I worked at was closing down. Flicking through the Nursing Times, I spotted an ad for staff nurse positions at Addenbrooke’s. I’d heard of the hospital—it had a reputation as a centre of excellence. I thought, why not apply? It felt like the right place to grow.
What I didn’t realise was just how much this place would come to mean to me.
My first day set the tone for an unpredictable but rewarding journey. I was in the staff room waiting for handover when the senior sister suddenly walked in and announced she was leaving—with immediate effect! It was quite an introduction to the ward, and I remember thinking, what have I walked into?
I remember thinking, what have I walked into?
Over the years, my role evolved in ways I could never have anticipated. I originally only ever wanted to be a staff nurse—I loved being on the front line, caring for patients face-to-face. But as time went on, I was encouraged to apply for different roles. Today, I work as an autonomous practitioner in gynaeoncology, supported by a fantastic team of specialist nurses. I’ve been lucky—my career has grown organically, and always with patient care at the heart of it.
I only ever wanted to be a staff nurse—caring directly for patients was what I loved most.
There are countless memorable moments, but one that stands out is the day the Queen and Prince Philip came to open the new Rosie Hospital. I had the honour of attending, and I’ll never forget standing in the rain, absolutely soaked, watching history unfold.
I’ll never forget standing in the rain, absolutely soaked, watching history unfold.
Addenbrooke’s itself has changed dramatically since I arrived. It was much smaller back then—I lived in Foxton House, which was just nurses’ accommodation at the time. If it rained, we’d make our way to work through the underground corridors. These days, the scale and pace of the hospital are almost unrecognisable.
Healthcare has transformed too. I remember when patients stayed in hospital for much longer after surgery. I was working the day the first laparoscopic hysterectomy was performed. Now, the majority of our procedures are laparoscopic, and recovery times are so much shorter.
The pace of healthcare has changed beyond recognition—patients used to stay much longer after surgery.
It’s remarkable progress, though sometimes I do miss the old ways—the extra time meant we could offer more of that tender, loving care. Still, patients are better off recovering at home.
If I could bring back one thing, it would be the colleagues who have since retired—consultants and nurses from whom I learned so much.
Oh, and the uniform standards! We used to be so strict about wearing it properly.
If I could bring one thing back, it would be the colleagues I learned so much from—and the strict uniform standards!
There have been moments that truly took my breath away. A student nurse once told me, “When I’m qualified, I want to be like you.” That was one of the biggest compliments I’ve ever received. It made me stop and think about the impact we have, even when we don’t realise it.
When I’m qualified, I want to be like you.
That’s stayed with me ever since.
Some people and moments stay with you forever. Early in my career, I cared for a patient nearing the end of her life. Her husband used to bring us cakes, and during quiet night shifts, she and I had deep, moving conversations about what happens when we die. I will always remember her.
And of course, there’s the lighter side too! There were traditions that brought so much joy—like when someone was leaving for a new job, we’d fill the bath with all sorts and dunk them in it. The patients loved it just as much as the staff.
The patients loved it just as much as the staff—especially when we dunked someone in the bath!
If I could go back and speak to my younger self on day one, I’d say: You can do more than you think you can—have confidence.
What keeps people here for so long? It’s simple, really: a love of the job.
You can do more than you think you can—have confidence.
And the biggest lesson I’ve learned from years in this hospital?
Never judge people on first impressions.
If Addenbrooke’s had a Hall of Fame, I’d like to be remembered not for titles or milestones, but for my sense of humour and my ability to communicate with care and kindness.
I’d like to be remembered for my humour, and for caring with kindness.
That, to me, is the heart of nursing.