“My Muslim faith helps to make me a better palliative care doctor – it helps me feel really connected to my patients”

When I graduated from medical school 30 years ago, there was little generally known about palliative and hospice care. When I returned to work in medicine after having my children, one of my jobs was in haematology (blood disorders) and oncology (cancer care). I enjoyed my work and knew it was helping patients, but I was always uneasy about the hospital 'conveyor belt' and the standardised way that care seemed to always be delivered.

I felt that we were addressing health from one small perspective – the physical side – and that there wasn't enough time given to focus on the whole person. Their emotions, their spiritual life, their diet, exercise, everything else that was important to them. I was also very aware of those patients whose disease didn't respond to treatment. How could we ensure they received the holistic care they needed and deserved?

So, when a vacancy came up in a local hospice – which also meant more manageable hours for me trying to juggle work with having young children at the time – I applied, got shortlisted and was then fortunate to be offered the post. Within days of starting work as a palliative care doctor, I knew that I’d finally found my space. I’ve never looked back.

As a Muslim, I don’t feel there are separate sides to me – my faith, career, family and so on – they all form one whole. Faith fuses through all aspects of my life and being.

I’ve been at the Marie Curie Hospice, West Midlands for six years, working in the community alongside the wonderful nursing teams delivering our service. We help our patients with whatever difficulties they may be having – whether it’s symptoms such as pain, nausea, breathlessness etc or the practical and emotional side to living with a life-limiting illness. Supporting their families is just as important as caring for patients. For some patients, faith at the end of life is something they want to discuss and take great comfort and support from.

Ramadan is the month that as Muslims, we look forward to the most each year. It has a very special atmosphere. But it can be a difficult time for people living with a terminal illness, particularly if they are unable to fast. Those who are unwell are exempt from fasting, but they often feel grief for something they have done throughout their whole lives. Ramadan is very much a community experience, with the fasting, the breaking of the fast in the evening, the nightly prayers at the mosque, raising money for charitable projects. It can be hard for those who can’t do all this not to feel excluded.

I remember one lady under my care who was unable to fast and take part in the ritual for the first time in 25 years. She felt she was doing something wrong, even though she had a very valid reason not to be fasting.

As a Muslim, I completely understood. But I also know there are so many other aspects of Ramadan and our religion that she could take support from. Sometimes being able to reference a patient’s beliefs when giving them medical support can carry so much more meaning and give real consolation for them and those close to them.

I reminded my patient that the good deeds and actions that were her habit before would still count and that she would receive the same reward for them even though she was no longer able to do those actions in the same way. I was able to refer her to a saying of the Prophet Muhammad pbuh that ‘’if a person falls ill or travels, he shall be credited with whatever good deeds he used to perform while at home and in good health.’’

In essence, if something happens to prevent us from continuing our good actions, the fact that this was a regular part of our lives before and that we had always been committed is something that would be recognised by Allah, and the reward for those good deeds would continue.

This reminder was a huge comfort to her. It helped her to focus on things that she was still able to do at the time, such as pray, read the Qur'an, give to charity etc. Although I’m always doing my best to help with physical symptoms and to provide emotional support for patients and those close to them, I also consider spiritual support to be vitally important too.

During Ramadan I always feel physically and mentally energised, despite the exertion of fasting. It’s a time to really focus on our common humanity, within our families, communities and society as a whole. Muslims believe that the reward for every good deed is multiplied during Ramadan. As a doctor that makes going that extra mile for your patients, even more gratifying and fulfilling.

Every day I go into work with the intention of helping people. That is why I am here. I remind myself that good deeds can be big and small – greeting patients with a smile and making them feel valued and understood is just as important as helping to relieve physical symptoms.

My faith grounds me, and it gives me my sense of purpose. It's something that's very much with me at work. It makes me a better doctor, helping me feel connected to all my patients.

My colleagues and I recently discussed what we felt were the best aspects of our job. I reflected that, for me, it is 100% the patients. Being able to focus on each of them as a whole person, and to really help them and their families and friends through the difficult times they are facing, is something I really love. I realised that, just as my patients need me and my colleagues to provide our care, I too need them for the richness they bring to my life. Palliative care is really about humanity. I feel so lucky and privileged to do this work.

Call our free Support Line on 0800 090 2309 for practical or clinical information and emotional support if you're living with or caring for someone who has a terminal illness, or have experienced a bereavement. Support is available in over 200 languages and we also offer webchat and an Online Community.