Published: 21/02/2002, Volume II2, No. 5792 Page 18 19
Sorting out cups of tea and bacon rolls for the ladies and gentlemen of the press is not usually in the job description of a deputy medical director of a large acute trust.
But That is exactly what Bob Masterton found himself doing when Lothian University Hospitals trust came under media siege.
In just a little over a year, the trust, which runs Edinburgh Royal Infirmary and the Western General Hospital - also in the Scottish capital - has had to cope with two of the most high-profile patients of recent times. In October 2000, Scotland's muchloved first minister, Donald Dewar, died there after suffering a brain haemorrhage. And last month trust staff again had the media parked on their doorstep to witness the end of the short life of chancellor Gordon Brown's daughter, Jennifer Jane.
Both instances were, of course, tragedies for the families and those close to them. But, as they involved figures so much in the public eye, the events touched the wider public and attracted enormous media attention.
So how can a trust prepare for the attention of the press? The hundreds of phone calls, the requests for interviews, the camera staff parked outside every entrance?
'This is not really something you can plan for, ' says trust head of communications Pennie Taylor.
'When something like this happens you have to respond with teamwork. But you also have to remember that, just like dealing with any other patient, the wishes of the family are paramount and have to be respected. The way we treat the families of public figures is no different to the way we would treat anyone else.'
This is doubtless admirable as a policy. But even the most hardened communications expert will agree that most patients do not present the same level of management challenge as the death of the leading politician in Scotland or of the baby daughter of the chancellor of the exchequer.
For starters, there is a logistical problem. 'We know the media have to be there and that they are only doing their job, in most cases with empathy and respect, ' says Rosie Hewitt, the trust press officer.
'But obviously we have to make special arrangements. The media need to use mobile phones, for example, which you can't do in a hospital. They need somewhere to plug in their laptops.And yes, they do need things like cups of tea.'
Mrs Hewitt received her first press call about Gordon Brown's daughter on the morning of Saturday 5 January. The baby, born prematurely in Forth Park Hospital in Kirkcaldy, Fife, had been transferred to Edinburgh Royal Infirmary's specialist neonatology unit after suffering a brain haemorrhage.
From that moment, Mrs Hewitt's phone never stopped. 'I had my home phone, pager and mobile with me constantly, even in the bath, ' she says.
'Switchboard were absolutely marvellous and took lists of callers for me and I dealt with them as quickly as I could.'
All press statements and communications matters were discussed with one of Mr Brown's closest aides before being released to the media. Nothing was done without the family's agreement.
That day, Mrs Hewitt took her last press call at midnight, then tried to get some sleep. 'I was wakened at 5am by someone at a major news organisation who had my home number, ' says Mrs Hewitt. 'I didn't mind, and helped them all I could. But then five minutes later I had another call from the same organisation, who didn't realise that a colleague had just phoned.'
While, on the whole, she found the media very respectful, there was one reporter who rang the neonatology unit and tried to speak to staff there, falsely claiming that it had been at Mrs Hewitt's suggestion. 'Fortunately the member of staff knew That is not the way we operate and rang me and told me, ' she says.
'But We have done our best to build up good relationships with the media and we also try hard to meet their needs as far as we can.'
Another challenge was when the Daily Record got the exclusive story that the baby had been baptised - not a statement which came from the hospital. That set the phones ringing on Sunday night after the first editions of Monday's newspapers came out.
Again, Mrs Hewitt released an official statement that had been agreed with the family's representatives.Again, she took her last call at midnight and her first at 5am.
Just as the public watched with sadness as the baby's fate became clear, so those at the hospital also became upset. And not just the staff. 'I think a lot of the reporters found the story quite distressing, ' says Ms Taylor, who, as a former journalist with the BBC and broadsheet newspapers, is used to being part of the media pack herself. 'One was four months pregnant and she found it particularly hard. My own daughter had been born prematurely and it brought back the emotions I felt then.'
In the case of the Browns, all the briefings were given by the hospital, including interviews that were arranged later with the team which had cared for baby Jennifer.
This meant that it fell to Mrs Hewitt to read the final statement, which said simply that at 5.20pm, Jennifer Jane had died peacefully in her parents' arms.
The situation was slightly different with Donald Dewar. Although there was the same level of discussion and consultation, the public face giving out press statements was Mr Dewar's close friend and media special adviser, David Whitton. Mr Dewar was brought into the Royal Infirmary at around 5.30pm on 10 October 2000.
Initially there were fears for his heart - he had recently undergone cardiac surgery. But he was later transferred to the Western General when it emerged he had suffered a brain haemorrhage.
The communications team created an impromptu media room in an administration block, where mobile phones could do no damage to hospital equipment. And everyone - staff, up to 40 members of the media, settled down to wait - which is where Dr Masterton's way with refreshments came into play.
The following day, David Whitton announced Scotland's first-ever first minister had died.
'Our job was to liaise with the family, the advisers and the police, and, taking their wishes on board, we had to make sure we gave the media as much help as we could, ' says Ms Taylor. She points out, however, that those in the public eye and those close to them are aware of the reality that there will be enormous interest when something happens to a figure many people feel they 'know'.
She explains how Donald Dewar's son and daughter were due to arrive the morning after he was admitted. The last press statement had been at 10pm the night before. 'There are lots of entrances at the hospital, we could have got them in without being seen, ' says Ms Taylor. 'But they agreed to go in the front door because the media really needed something for their lunchtime bulletins.'
If this sounds heartless, consider those who watch the news, or listen to the radio or read papers.
They expect to hear what is happening to leading figures. But that wasn't how all trust staff saw it.
'In such circumstances there is an internal communications issue, ' says Mrs Hewitt. 'Some staff are not happy about the media being there, so we have to explain that they are just doing their job and that it is a matter of public interest.'
It puts pressure on resources.
'Again I would have to praise switchboard, ' says Mrs Hewitt. 'They're answering hundreds of calls while doing their usual volume of work.
And it is not just the media. People ring up because they want their best wishes passed on to the family.
In the case of Donald Dewar, I also took a call from Mary McAleese, the Irish president.'
Ms Taylor confirms that the trust has plans for VIP admissions - such as what would happen if the Queen took ill on one of her stays in Edinburgh's Holyrood Palace - as well as major incident plans.
But she says: 'When it comes to the bit, you just scramble and get on with it.'
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