When I speak with paramedics, whose roles are so rapidly evolving and diversifying, I am struck not only by the degree to which your roles vary, but by the assumption that other paramedics understand your role, despite the admission that, in many cases, you don't feel you understand theirs. Now I am guilty of this myself to some degree; I tend to assume everyone knows what an editor does; that is, until I speak to just about any human being that isn't one, and realise, no one actually has a clue. But in my case, editors tend to understand each other and what we do.
Paramedics on the other hand, tend to understand each other deeply, in a fundamental sense—when it comes to big things like the importance of clinical skills, the little things (which are really also the big things) like the importance of making a cuppa for Mrs Jones, and cultural things like a belief that the work you do isn't that big of a deal, and the use of humour (p.128) to help you believe that belief so you can actually cope day to day. But when it comes to the extremely varied roles paramedics fill, you aren't always clear on what other paramedics actually do.
Now imagine you are a patient (as I'm sure most, if not all, of you have been at some point in your lives); how do you know who is delivering your care? Do you know if the woman or man who walks in is a specialist nurse of some sort, an advanced practitioner, a nurse prescriber, a doctor, a junior doctor, a healthcare assistant, a technician, a paramedic—a specialist paramedic, an advanced paramedic, a consultant paramedic—I think you take my point. Honestly, for most patients, the term ‘advanced practitioner’ isn't even on this list. And a paramedic is, well, a paramedic; you know, the ones in the ambulance who drive over with a stretcher if you hurt yourself. For many in the general public, paramedics are the only job title in the ambulance and the only kind of paramedic there is.
In this month's issue of the Journal of Paramedic Practice, Alyesha Proctor reveals the confusion among older patients who received a home visit from a paramedic practitioner working in a GP surgery in place of their GP (p. 115). They weren't aware that such a role existed, and even after being told they were being attended to by a paramedic practitioner, there were still patients who assumed the paramedic was a doctor. This is because the term ‘paramedic practitioner’ is jargon, and really doesn't mean anything to the average person. We tend to dismiss information we don't understand, and just fill in the gaps with what we know (or what we think we know). This article makes clear the need to communicate the existence of various care delivery roles to patients. The other thing that is clear from the patients' perceptions is that they had a positive experience of their encounter with the paramedic practitioner. They felt their complaints were handled effectively and that the paramedic practitioner had the necessary skills and knowledge to attend to them. This is promising for the NHS, for GPs, for paramedics and for patients.
Many will be familiar with the late Kate Granger's #hellomynameis campaign. As our consultant paramedic columnist, Daniel Smith, discusses on p. 129, nothing is more important than making a human connection, and introducing yourself by name is a key piece of this. But what about also coming up with a brief sentence explaining your role in plain language? Paramedics are playing increasingly important parts in many care settings and as well as receiving the necessary skills, knowledge and compassion, patients should know who is caring for them.