#HelloMyNameIs...

Hello. My name is Dr Kate Granger, I'm 33 years old and I live in Whitefield in West Yorkshire. I'm an acting consultant in medicine for older people at Mid Yorkshire hospitals NHS trust.

I'm happily married to my husband Chris, and what makes me slightly unusual is that I'm also quite ill. In fact, terminally ill with a very rare and aggressive form of sarcoma that was diagnosed when I was just 29 years old and so I've been through the mill a bit with health stuff over the last 3 years. And it's been quite a tough time coming to terms with all that. I was always in a non-curative situation so I've had three and a half years to live with that and deal with it, so it's not going to change I just face each day as it comes.

The #HelloMyNameIs… campaign came about when I was in hospital in August 2013. During that time I was a keen observer of my Healthcare, and what was happening. One of the starkest observations I made about the interactions I was having, with the people looking after me, was that so many of them didn't start with an introduction. The absence of introductions really felt quite wrong to me. It's the first thing you’re taught in medical school, that when you approach a patient you say your name, your role and what you're going to do. This missing link just made me feel like I didn't really matter, that these people weren't bothered who I was. I ended up at times feeling like I was just a diseased body in a hospital bed.

Now I've been down the NHS complaints route in the past and felt that it's not really brought about significant change, so I thought I'd do something more positive. Using my already significant social media presence, and influence, we thought we’d launch a social media campaign.  My husband happily packaged the idea into the ’HelloMyNameIs…’ hashtag. I started tweeting, I blogged about it and I invited people to pledge their support. We gave the campaign a logo and off we went on a big Journey, really which has lasted nearly two years of trying to change behaviour culture, and how compassionate care is delivered in the NHS.

 I believe that compassion is actually central to healthcare. In the admission, in the lead-up to the start of the #HelloMyNameIs… campaign, I'd obviously met quite a few people in the emergency department, none of whom would introduce themselves, until I met Brian.

Brian was a porter, he introduced himself and he recognized that I was in pain when I got onto his trolley. He fetched me an extra pillow, and an extra blanket, to make sure I was as comfortable as I could be. And he made sure that I was settled on the ward before he left.  He was doing those little things that I talk about being so important in the delivery of compassionate care. They don't cost any money; they probably increase the healthcare professional’s satisfaction with their daily work and they have a massive impact on patients. There's lots of evidence out there that suggests that people who have better working relationships with their Healthcare professionals have better outcomes.

When I sent that first tweet, back in August 2013, I had no idea that the campaign would gather as much momentum as it has. We started to get global following: the health secretary knows about it, the Prime Minister knows about it. It's amazing to think that I've reached that top level of government with my tiny idea.

Currently there's over 80 NHS trusts involved in the campaign, and that's amazing. It reaches nearly half a million NHS employees, which is over a third of the NHS Workforce. I want this to be as big as I can make it, and that relies on my narrative. And if people can't hear my narrative, then I don't think it has as much impact and power. I feel immensely proud of my campaign. When I see the impact here in mid Yorkshire, my clinical home. I've worked here for a number of years; I've done all my training here and I'm so proud and happy that they're leading the way for all the 80 trusts. Because it's their energy, enthusiasm and passion that's keeping this rolling and keeping it growing its own set of wings. Now that you know I don't necessarily need to be part of it anymore, it's becoming its own thing. And I hope it's my legacy. I hope it's what people will remember me for. For making a real tangible improvement in the health service that directly affects patient experience.

Writing about my illness, tweeting about it, blogging about it, sharing openly my deepest darkest fears and vulnerabilities with the world has been about trying to improve things for others. And the fact that I've done that and I've now got a legacy and means I can die proud.