Processing traumatic events | Association of Anaesthetists

Processing traumatic events

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Processing traumatic events

A trainee’s perspective

As a new anaesthetic registrar, I clearly remember one of the introductory sessions for all the new ST3s from the Trainee Programme Director: “At the end of virtually every emergency protocol in the hospital it says to call the anaesthetist. That is now you. This means that by the nature of the job you will be exposed to some of the worst tragedies happening in the region. If you ever need any support, then please come and talk to us because we are here to help you.” This felt both supportive and intimidating in equal measure, but I naively assumed that I would probably be okay.

I would describe myself as psychologically robust. I have no history of mental health disorders, and am probably perceived as someone who just gets on with things; never really struggling at work despite the challenges of examination failure and having small children alongside dual training.

I found myself replaying the scenarios again and again in my mind, and suddenly reliving each death without warning. 

Halfway through my ST5 year, I became the senior registrar at the large tertiary Major Trauma Centre. There are equivalent positions in every region, but locally it is perceived as a very challenging role. I was determined to perform well and be seen to cope.

It was a steep learning curve, but I quickly settled into the responsibility. The work was enjoyable, and looking back it was one of the most exciting and dynamic roles of my career, especially the unpredictable nature of each day on-call.

Then, in fairly quick succession, I was involved in several sudden deaths of previously well children. Initially I carried on, and though feeling sad about the cases I did not feel overly damaged or that my work was compromised. However, as time went on I found myself feeling less sad when involved in traumatic events, and then not really feeling anything at all.

My patience became very short, and I was increasingly irritable and argumentative with my wife, children and colleagues. I found myself replaying the scenarios again and again in my mind, and suddenly reliving each death without warning. These processes are termed rumination and intrusive thoughts – they are normal responses to processing trauma.

In the days that followed I had flashbacks to this case, and at the point where I kept visualising my own son dead on the operating table having his organs harvested, I finally realised that I needed help.

I found myself drinking more, having previously only consumed alcohol once or twice a week. Although never to excess, it became normal for me to have one to two alcoholic drinks every night after getting home. My sleep, already disrupted by having two small children, became erratic, leaving me tired all the time yet struggling to rest; attributing this to job stress, I was determined to carry on and cope.

I was then involved in a paediatric organ donation in an infant of a similar age to my son. Sub-consciously knowing that I was struggling, I felt relieved when my fellow registrar offered to do the case. Unfortunately, the child became unstable intraoperatively and I was called to the operating theatre to help. The situation was very tense, and the psychological burden of the case was very difficult for the whole team.

In the days that followed I had flashbacks to this case, and at the point where I kept visualising my own son dead on the operating table having his organs harvested, I finally realised that I needed help.

Fortuitously one of my friends is a clinical psychologist, and after encouragement from my wife I asked Sam if we could meet to see if he could help me. He was brilliant. After quickly establishing that avoiding traumatic events was unfortunately not an option with my chosen profession, he helped me understand the psychological responses to trauma that I was experiencing, and offered me tools going forward to help process and reflect traumatic events.

One of the most helpful of these was the ‘Control, Influence, Accept’ model, which I have used personally to help me during the recent pandemic, and has also been helpful for some of the other intensive care staff with whom I have shared it.

Figure 1. Control-Influence-Accept diagram

Control-Influence-Accept diagram

A psychologist’s perspective

Psychological responses to trauma include 1) re-experiencing through flashbacks, nightmares and involuntary thoughts and memories. 2) inadvertent avoidance of related stimuli, including unintentional strategies to keep busy or distracted with the aim of preventing unwanted thoughts (e.g. drinking alcohol), sometimes resulting in emotional numbness. 3) increased physical and emotional arousal, including sleep difficulties and irritability.

Following a traumatic event, many people will experience these types of symptoms; most will return to normal functioning within 3-6 months, but 12% experience post-traumatic stress disorder longer-term [1]. It is almost never discussed that a similar proportion of people will experience post-traumatic growth, becoming more resilient and better adjusted, as a result of learning from the trauma [2], and I saw the meetings with Joel as an opportunity for the latter.

Firstly, we aimed to acknowledge that there were many emotionally difficult aspects to Joel’s chosen line of work that were unchangeable. It was important to avoid wishing his profession could be easier in areas where it could not. It would also have placed our time and energy in a place where we could make no difference, and indeed might have increased a sense of helplessness. Making space for this kind of acceptance meant making room for the hard experiences that cannot be avoided – about as challenging a task as there can be.

We also aimed to establish a clear articulation of what really mattered to Joel about his work and the direction he wanted to go with his life. Conversations about these issues are not typical in everyday life and can feel grandiose, but having a strong sense of how to fit our actions with personal values makes it easier to bear the difficulties inevitably faced when we do what matters. This finding has been replicated in various work settings and is seen clinically, for example in chronic pain, where increases in values-based action leads to reduced depression, anxiety and disability [3, 4].

The Control-Influence-Accept exercise illustrates the main aims of our meetings. Using three concentric circles (Figure 1), we categorised key concerns into: those that were directly under Joel’s control; those that he could influence but not control; and those that were out of his control. Importantly, we placed emotions within the influence circle. We cannot directly control emotions, but we can influence them through our consequent responses. 

Lastly, we agreed that moving towards acceptance was the wisest action for concerns that were out of Joel’s control. 

Acceptance can have connotations of passivity or not caring, but it is a very active and challenging staged process where one is saying “My energy is not best spent on this, because I have no influence on it”; to be swiftly followed by the question “So where is my energy best spent to serve what matters most to me?” 

Using this exercise, I observed Joel taking and making time to become aware of difficult thoughts and feelings that surfaced when he faced challenging situations; deliberately remind himself of the values he aimed to serve; and consider what he could do to move towards them. The first move of this type that I witnessed, and the most admirable in my view, was acknowledging the problem in the first place and turning towards help, so that Joel could live and work more aligned with what he originally intended.

A trainee’s perspective - continued

Even just admitting to someone that I was struggling was really helpful, and I began to feel better. I accepted that I wasn’t going to be able to do the job perfectly, that my best was good enough, and to be kind to myself. At the end of one of our meetings I mentioned to my Educational Supervisor (an intensivist and anaesthetist) that I was struggling and seeing a psychologist. His reply was amazing. Without batting an eyelid, he said “Good, I think we probably all should.” This response was perfect for me as it normalised the whole situation.

The term resilience is overused, but I truly feel that it is probably an apt description of where I now find myself

After moving to another large teaching hospital, I almost immediately experienced two further paediatric deaths; one a hanging in a teenager, and the other an out-of-hospital arrest in a baby. Although apprehensive about my response to these, I was able to recognise them as potentially difficult events and use the tools that Sam had given me to process them. 

The term resilience is overused, but I truly feel that it is probably an apt description of where I now find myself, and psychological resilience has been invaluable whilst acting-up during my advanced year in intensive care medicine during the pandemic. 

As a speciality we are stereotypically very good at looking after our physical health; the archetypal anaesthetist in Lycra is present in every hospital. We are increasingly recognising and making steps towards improving our personal and corporate mental health, and I hope that by sharing my experience more of us may approach our mental wellbeing with equal voracity to our physical health, particularly in the context of the fallout of the COVID-19 pandemic.

If you are struggling with the fallout of traumatic events, please speak to your Educational Supervisor, College Tutor or Trainee Programme Director.

Help is also available from the Association

Joel Swindin
ST8 in Anaesthesia and Intensive Care medicine
East Midlands Deanery

Sam Malins
Honorary Assistant Professor of Clinical Psychology
Sherwood Forest Hospitals Foundation Trust

Twitter: @JSwindin

References

  1. Shalev AY, Gevonden M, Ratanatharathorn A, et al. Estimating the risk of PTSD in recent trauma survivors: results of the International Consortium to Predict PTSD (ICPP). World Psychiatry 2019; 18: 77-87. 
  2. Calhoun LG, Tedeschi RG. Handbook of posttraumatic growth: research and practice. Hove, UK: Psychology Press; 2014. 
  3. McCracken LM, Vowles KE. Acceptance and commitment therapy and mindfulness for chronic pain: model, process, and progress. American Psychologist 2014; 69: 178-87. 
  4. Vowles KE, McCracken LM. Acceptance and values-based action in chronic pain: a study of treatment effectiveness and process. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology 2008; 76: 397-407.