"It felt like we'd provided a gift" - What it's like to work on Christmas Day

It was around 4.30pm on Christmas Day, and I was sat in my car with the engine running, trying to keep warm. I had a couple of hours until my next patient call, but it would have taken too long to drive home to Caerphilly and back.

The shops were shut, and the streets were empty apart from the few people taking a post-Christmas dinner walk. I wanted to be somewhere beautiful to watch the sun go down, but it was too cloudy to see the sunset.

As I waited in my car, a melancholic feeling started creeping in – only it wasn't just a feeling of loneliness. It went deeper than that, and thoughts of inadequacy started to surface.

Why now? Why, today of all days, am I doubting my ability to do a job I love? This was my dream job, one that I'd been waiting to do for years. I knew it the moment I saw the job advert. This was my opportunity to step back into work in a role I felt born to do – at Marie Curie, where my nursing career began.

I started volunteering at my local hospice as work experience for college, then within weeks, I saw a job advert for a support worker the hospice. I applied straight away and got the job.

I was mentored and shown how to deliver a high level of care and compassion to each patient. I grew to love palliative care and caring for patients in their own home. It was a special opportunity to work alongside a wonderful team who were all dedicated to giving a level of care that I felt was second to none.

As I sat waiting in my car, I put on a Christmas album. I usually loved Christmas music, it always put me in a good mood. But, today, these songs felt sad rather than uplifting. Why was that?

In that moment, I realised that what I loved most about Christmas was being at home with my family, surrounded by warmth, lights, food and decorations. My heart ached to be at home. This dark, cold, silent evening sat in my car was not where I wanted to be. And yet, I reminded myself, this was why I had volunteered to work on Christmas Day, so that others didn't have to.

For 16 years I'd been a stay at home mum and I made a conscious choice to leave nursing behind, focusing on my home and family. I'd been there for every birthday, holiday, Christmas, illness, celebration and achievement. So how could I have abandoned them today? What was I thinking? Why was I here? Why had I taken a job that would take me away from my family?

Volunteering to work on Christmas was supposed to be a noble choice. Then why, right now, did it feel like a lonely choice? Not noble at all. This inner turmoil continued for several minutes as I sat in my car.

It would all be worth it, I told myself. It's just the waiting time that feels particularly long today, once I'm helping my patients in their homes, it will all be worth it. And then I'll be home again.

I was right. Our visits that day made such a difference to our patients and their relatives. My colleague and I even had a new patient to visit: a lady around my age with two teenage daughters.

When we arrived at her home we were met by her sister, who expressed more than once how grateful she was to have us there. She was surprised and impressed that a referral could be made on Christmas Day. Instantly, upon hearing those words, all feelings of loneliness and melancholy left me — I was there to provide very specialised care to a family who needed our help. My job felt like a service every day, but never more so than it did today at Christmas.

My colleague and I were shown upstairs to our patient, who was semi-conscious in bed. She had a syringe driver in place pumping medication into her body, keeping her comfortable. In my experience, people at this stage would not have long to live. A day or two at best.

With her relatives' help we were able to give her a full body wash. We washed and blow-dried her hair, changed her into fresh pyjamas and applied her favourite body lotion – a Christmas present that her sister opened in front of us.

We were there for longer than we would normally be. All our appointments overran that day, and we didn't finish our shifts until 9.20pm. But it was all worth it. Every second of it.

My colleague and I both said how special it felt to work the Christmas shift. It felt like we'd provided a Christmas gift to our patients and their families, a gift of our time, talents, compassion, humour and care.

All thoughts of loneliness and self-doubt had vanished. On my drive home, I was filled with a renewed Christmas spirit, and I couldn't wait to get home and tell my family all about my shift and thank them for understanding.

I loved my job. I loved the person I was able to be because of it. Was it hard at times? Yes. Could it be lonely? Absolutely. Was it a sacrifice to be away from my family? Always. Would I work on Christmas Day again? In a heartbeat.