I see life in colour. No filters. No hiding the lines.
Behind each of us is a story. It belongs to us, and to everyone who has shared the moments in our lives with us. Permitted To Pause was born as part of my story, and by sharing the person behind it I wish to bring hope and strength. And importantly the notion that pauses are so important to our wellbeing. |
Where would we be without our stories? Owning them is acknowledging our past and our present, which is the very essence of making us who and where we are at any given time. And for that we should all be grateful and proud! As we learn from it all, so we can also teach, and therefore we shouldn't be afraid to share it. So here is my story...
I've been an NHS doctor for 21 years, and in that time I have acquired the key to many things.
I'm Lebanese, born in Africa, brought up in Bournemouth, loved school, worked my socks off to get into Medical School in London where I had 6 amazing years before qualifying as a doctor. I hated exams at every stage, including all my post graduate exams which I just kept on adding to despite the constant anxiety, annoyance that they were impacting on my social life, and especially whilst working crazy hours!
Within 6 years of working as a doctor I got my Surgery and GP qualifications, now had more letters after my name than in it, and switched between specialties more than most! Life was busy, and full, and all-embracing, but it was also stressful, and exhausting, and in it all I barely gave myself opportunities to stop and look after me.
Then in 2005, aged 29, I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma-a blood cancer which grew a 12 cm tumour inside my chest, unknowingly, while I was doing all of the above, and also planning my wedding.
Living a busy life and looking to my future, everything suddenly ground to a halt. All except the fierce and continuous fight for survival. A proud NHS doctor, now I was in the hospital bed, my own life in its hands. After 14 unbroken months of chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and a lifesaving stem cell transplant, I beat the odds, and here I am 14 years later, not only well, but thriving after surviving.
I couldn't have done this without my loved ones, my family, my husband, friends, and medics, who all fought with me. I realised that no one is immune to illness, perhaps ironically not even doctors.
Recovery, physically and mentally, was incredibly challenging. I had help through it, as the uncertainties that came with surviving against the odds took me to some dark places But I moved forwards, blessed, lucky, privileged every single day, and with a new life perspective. I was alive again!
I returned to living and working hard once more, almost trying to prove to my cancer that it couldn't rob me of any more things than it already had-my confidence, my trust, my hair, my eggs. Plus I wanted to give back to my patients (now as a skin surgeon managing patients with cancer, now I understood better).
By 2016 I found myself exhausted, close to burnout. How, after all I had already been through, did I allow this to happen? It crept up on me. I found it hard to stop, when in fact what I needed to do was exactly that. Pause. Rest. Recharge. Restore. Re-energise. And eventually re-emerge once again. But I had not given myself permission to do any of these things along the way, and the inevitable crash was imminent.
A timely job offer for my husband gave me the opportunity of a career break in Canada in 2017, and until I stopped I never realised quite how little I had looked after myself at work and outside of work along the way. Work impacted on my life, and my life had impacted on my work, and I was sacrificing everything of me to keep everything afloat. A complete break from the responsibilities that were blocking my ability to recover, to reflect, to reset, to rewire, was what I hadn't realised I needed to keep me strong and move me forwards. I could now take pauses and take time for myself-to nourish my body and my mind, and to clear my head so I could refill it with positive self love and self care. Only then could I be the old me again, and care for my patients and loved ones in the way I had before.
And by reminding myself of this I was gradually able to lose the guilt and the unfounded notion that caring for myself was a selfish act.
It was on this break that I created the concept of Permitted To Pause. For doctors, healthcare workers, for everyone. And for me. Because small pauses make a big difference. Life and health are precious, and unpredicatable, but not mutually exclusive either. And living must be more than survival alone.
I'm lucky to be where I am now. I have learned many lessons-about life, about health, about self-preservation. And I have understood me better.
So here I share with you the message that each one of us is important, and deserves health, peace, happiness, and longevity.
You are all Permitted To Pause, and whether or not you give yourself that permission, I will be happy to hand it out unconditionally.
I've been an NHS doctor for 21 years, and in that time I have acquired the key to many things.
I'm Lebanese, born in Africa, brought up in Bournemouth, loved school, worked my socks off to get into Medical School in London where I had 6 amazing years before qualifying as a doctor. I hated exams at every stage, including all my post graduate exams which I just kept on adding to despite the constant anxiety, annoyance that they were impacting on my social life, and especially whilst working crazy hours!
Within 6 years of working as a doctor I got my Surgery and GP qualifications, now had more letters after my name than in it, and switched between specialties more than most! Life was busy, and full, and all-embracing, but it was also stressful, and exhausting, and in it all I barely gave myself opportunities to stop and look after me.
Then in 2005, aged 29, I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma-a blood cancer which grew a 12 cm tumour inside my chest, unknowingly, while I was doing all of the above, and also planning my wedding.
Living a busy life and looking to my future, everything suddenly ground to a halt. All except the fierce and continuous fight for survival. A proud NHS doctor, now I was in the hospital bed, my own life in its hands. After 14 unbroken months of chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and a lifesaving stem cell transplant, I beat the odds, and here I am 14 years later, not only well, but thriving after surviving.
I couldn't have done this without my loved ones, my family, my husband, friends, and medics, who all fought with me. I realised that no one is immune to illness, perhaps ironically not even doctors.
Recovery, physically and mentally, was incredibly challenging. I had help through it, as the uncertainties that came with surviving against the odds took me to some dark places But I moved forwards, blessed, lucky, privileged every single day, and with a new life perspective. I was alive again!
I returned to living and working hard once more, almost trying to prove to my cancer that it couldn't rob me of any more things than it already had-my confidence, my trust, my hair, my eggs. Plus I wanted to give back to my patients (now as a skin surgeon managing patients with cancer, now I understood better).
By 2016 I found myself exhausted, close to burnout. How, after all I had already been through, did I allow this to happen? It crept up on me. I found it hard to stop, when in fact what I needed to do was exactly that. Pause. Rest. Recharge. Restore. Re-energise. And eventually re-emerge once again. But I had not given myself permission to do any of these things along the way, and the inevitable crash was imminent.
A timely job offer for my husband gave me the opportunity of a career break in Canada in 2017, and until I stopped I never realised quite how little I had looked after myself at work and outside of work along the way. Work impacted on my life, and my life had impacted on my work, and I was sacrificing everything of me to keep everything afloat. A complete break from the responsibilities that were blocking my ability to recover, to reflect, to reset, to rewire, was what I hadn't realised I needed to keep me strong and move me forwards. I could now take pauses and take time for myself-to nourish my body and my mind, and to clear my head so I could refill it with positive self love and self care. Only then could I be the old me again, and care for my patients and loved ones in the way I had before.
And by reminding myself of this I was gradually able to lose the guilt and the unfounded notion that caring for myself was a selfish act.
It was on this break that I created the concept of Permitted To Pause. For doctors, healthcare workers, for everyone. And for me. Because small pauses make a big difference. Life and health are precious, and unpredicatable, but not mutually exclusive either. And living must be more than survival alone.
I'm lucky to be where I am now. I have learned many lessons-about life, about health, about self-preservation. And I have understood me better.
So here I share with you the message that each one of us is important, and deserves health, peace, happiness, and longevity.
You are all Permitted To Pause, and whether or not you give yourself that permission, I will be happy to hand it out unconditionally.