The Unheard Voices: A Personal Experience with the NHS (Oxford, John Radcliffe Hospital)

The National Health Service (NHS) is a pillar of support for millions across the UK, promising care, compassion, and dignity for all. However, my personal experience has left me questioning whether this promise is fulfilled, especially for those of us who live with disabilities.

As a person who relies on a wheelchair 99% of the time, I cannot express enough how essential it is for healthcare providers to truly listen to their patients. Yet, during a recent visit to an NHS facility, I found myself dismissed and ignored in ways that left me feeling both frustrated and vulnerable.

I clearly communicated my mobility limitations, yet instead of being offered the assistance I needed, I was told to “walk” to the toilet or commode. It felt like a stark dismissal of my reality—a painful reminder that many people simply do not understand the challenges faced by those with disabilities.

The situation worsened as I struggled with my basic needs. I found myself holding on to my toilet needs for far too long because it often took ages for staff to bring a commode. I overheard nurses expressing their concerns about helping me, worrying they might hurt their backs in the process. Their reluctance to assist me was baffling and left me feeling trapped in a situation that should have been handled with care and urgency. The absence of a collaborative spirit—where colleagues could step in to help—only added to my distress.

Adding to my confusion, I had a surreal and unsettling encounter in the middle of the night. A doctor, who appeared to be of Chinese descent, entered my room and began performing some strange hand movements that resembled a ritual. This bizarre experience left me feeling more anxious and isolated. When I later inquired about this doctor, the hospital staff claimed they had no knowledge of their identity. It was as if I was in a surreal nightmare—tortured not only by my physical discomfort but also by the lack of clarity and support around me.

Ignoring patients’ needs can have profound implications. It erodes trust in the healthcare system and can discourage individuals from seeking help when they need it most. It is vital for the NHS to prioritize active listening and empathy, particularly for those who may not fit the typical mold of “patient.” Each individual deserves to be treated with respect and understanding, especially when they are vulnerable.

To ensure that everyone receives the care they deserve, the NHS must implement training programs that emphasize the importance of recognizing and accommodating diverse patient needs. Healthcare professionals should be encouraged to engage in open conversations with their patients, asking questions and actively listening to their concerns.

My experience is just one example among many where individuals with disabilities are left feeling unheard and unsupported. By fostering a culture of compassion and understanding, we can transform the NHS into a space where everyone feels valued and respected.

In conclusion, as we move forward, let us advocate for a healthcare system that listens, understands, and accommodates all patients—regardless of their circumstances. We owe it to ourselves and to each other to ensure that no one feels ignored or diminished within the very system that is meant to care for us. The time for change is now

This was my experience , so dont you dare challenge it- Thank you.

Navigating the World Through Intersecting Identities: Race, Disability, and Womanhood

 

There’s a constant hum of tension in the background of my life, a subtle but ever-present reminder of how different I am perceived to be. As a Black woman in the UK, I’ve become well acquainted with the sharp edges of racism and sexism. But add disability into the equation, and suddenly the weight of navigating the world feels tenfold. My story is not extraordinary in its uniqueness, but it is deeply personal in the way these identities intersect and shape my everyday experiences.

The Invisible Layers of Identity

Growing up, I was acutely aware of my Blackness in a society where whiteness is the default. I learned early on that my presence in certain spaces could make people uncomfortable—sometimes because of my race, other times because of my gender, and often because of a mixture of both. But it wasn’t until I started dealing with the challenges of living with a disability that I fully grasped how layered and intersectional my experience was.

Being Black and disabled in the UK is a peculiar thing. While race and gender are visible aspects of identity, disability often adds an invisible layer of complexity. On the surface, many people don’t notice, or choose not to acknowledge, the additional challenges I face due to my disability. This invisibility can be isolating in its own right, as there’s an expectation to “get on with things,” to not let your challenges be seen, especially in professional spaces.

The Constant Negotiation of Spaces

I’ve often felt like I’m standing at a crossroads, negotiating which parts of myself to bring forward and which parts to tuck away in different spaces. In some situations, my race comes to the forefront. I’ve been made hyper-aware of the colour of my skin and what it represents to others. I’ve felt the unspoken pressure to perform “Blackness” in a way that others can easily digest—whether it’s by toning down my opinions or carefully navigating workplace dynamics where being assertive risks being labelled as the “angry Black woman.”

But then there are other times where my disability takes centre stage, albeit often invisibly. The thing about living with a disability is that it isn’t always immediately apparent to those around me, which can be both a blessing and a curse. I’ve had to explain myself more times than I can count when I’ve needed accommodations or support. People are quick to judge what they can’t see. If you’re not in a wheelchair or visibly in need of help, you’re expected to be “fine,” to push through whatever challenges you might be facing, no questions asked.

What’s harder still is when these aspects collide. As a Black woman, I already experience skepticism about my capabilities in certain spaces. Add a disability to that, and I feel like I’m constantly trying to prove that I belong, that I can keep up, that I’m not “less than.”

The Isolation of Otherness

One of the hardest parts of this journey has been the isolation that comes with feeling like an outsider, not just in mainstream society, but sometimes even within my own communities. As a Black woman, I’ve experienced solidarity in certain spaces, but there are also moments where my disability becomes a point of separation. People assume I’m fine because I’m strong. There’s a stereotype that Black women are resilient, that we carry everything on our backs without breaking.

But we do break. I break. There are days when the weight of my intersecting identities feels crushing. Days when navigating public spaces, workplaces, and even friendships feels like a battle between what I need and what society expects from me. The expectations are exhausting: be strong, be capable, be “normal.” But my lived reality is far from that, and it’s in those moments of struggle that I realize just how little room society makes for people like me—people who don’t fit into the neat boxes of identity they want to put us in.

The Strength in Vulnerability

Yet, through all of this, I’ve found a quiet strength. There is power in vulnerability, in being able to admit that my journey is hard. I’ve come to realize that my experiences as a Black, disabled woman are valid, even when the world tries to tell me otherwise. I don’t have to be everything for everyone. I don’t have to hide parts of myself to fit in.

It has taken time, but I’ve learned to embrace the intersectionality of my identity. My disability, race, and gender are not burdens, but parts of me that shape the way I see and interact with the world. They’ve made me more empathetic, more resilient, and more aware of the struggles others face. And while I still battle with the societal expectations placed on me, I know that my voice, my experiences, and my story matter.

Navigating the Professional World

In professional settings, the challenges intensify. As a woman of colour, I am often underrepresented and overlooked. Add my disability, and I become even more invisible. I’ve faced countless microaggressions—people underestimating my abilities, assuming I’ve reached where I am due to quotas rather than merit. There have been times when I’ve had to push twice as hard just to get half the recognition.

But it’s not just about being seen; it’s about being heard and valued. I’ve had to work through moments where my ideas were dismissed only to be picked up by others later. I’ve had to navigate colleagues who see my race and gender as indicators of incompetence or fragility. And when I’ve needed adjustments or understanding due to my disability, I’ve felt the silent judgment, as if asking for basic accommodations somehow makes me less capable.

Moving Forward

I share my story because I know I’m not alone. There are so many women out there who are navigating similar intersections of race, gender, and disability. Our stories are varied, but our struggles are connected. The more we share, the more we open up space for others to feel seen, to feel heard, to know that their experiences are valid.

As I continue to move through life, I carry the lessons of my intersecting identities with me. They shape how I approach challenges, how I interact with the world, and how I view myself. I’m learning that it’s okay to take up space, to demand that my needs be met, and to assert my worth. And while society may not always make room for people like me, I’m learning to carve out spaces of my own—spaces where I can be all of who I am without apology.