"He felt invisible and frightened"

I wanted to take a moment to share some reflections on a recent experience my teenage son and I had during our visit to GMeds and subsequent transfer to the Paediatric Assessment Unit (PAU). I do so with the hope that this feedback can support continued improvements in care and communication, especially for young patients.

We initially attended GMeds due to a concerning lump on my son's neck. The team there quickly assessed him and arranged for a transfer to PAU, where we were welcomed and shown to a bay, and shortly after, to a private room. We remained there from approximately 10:00 p.m. until 5:30 a.m.

During our time in PAU, a nurse kindly took my son's observations, and I requested some pain relief for him, as he was experiencing discomfort. Unfortunately, we were left for several hours without updates or communication. A student nurse came in a couple of times to take further observations, but they did not introduce theirself or explain what they were doing, which left my son feeling confused and uneasy. He is old enough to be involved in his care, and it was disheartening to see him overlooked in this way.

Around 1:30 a.m., my son, who was growing increasingly anxious and tired, asked for a pillow. It took about 45 minutes for one to arrive, by which time he had already fallen asleep. I appreciated the nurse’s effort, but it was a small moment that reflected a larger issue—he was not being seen or heard as a person.

When the registrant finally assessed him around 3:30 a.m., they were kind and apologetic, and explained that they needed further input from ENT. The ENT registrar arrived around 5:30 a.m. and explained that a senior colleague would review him after 8:00 a.m. We were then moved to a ward area around 6:30 a.m., which was more comfortable.

Throughout our stay, it was clear the staff were doing their best under very challenging circumstances. I have deep respect for the dedication of healthcare professionals, especially during night shifts when resources are stretched. However, the experience highlighted a lack of person-centred care. My son was never directly addressed, his consent was not sought, and he was not offered anything to help him feel more at ease—no towel to freshen up, no activities to distract him, and no real engagement.

This experience has left a lasting impression on my son. He felt invisible and frightened, and I worry that it may make him hesitant to seek medical help in the future. As a parent, that is heart-breaking.

I share this not out of anger, but out of a sincere hope that it can lead to positive change. Every child deserves to feel safe, respected, and cared for when they are unwell. I know the NHS is under immense pressure, and I am grateful for the care we did receive—but I believe we can do better in making sure young patients feel seen and supported.