I recently had to experience healthcare from the other side. A close relative who was fit, healthy and very active at 83, suddenly became ill and was admitted to the emergency department and then the admissions unit at Ninewells Hospital in Dundee. He had a stroke and died just half an hour before I got there. Suddenly I was the grieving relative receiving the sad news, being offered tea and sympathy, and collecting clothes in a hospital property bag. To be honest, at the time I knew I was going through the motions, doing what was expected, after all I have seen it happen so many times. I remember the day job kicking in at one point when I found myself thinking how desperate the staff on this admissions ward must have been to have the bed for someone else, but no one tried to hurry me along or rush the proceedings. What I do remember very clearly is how peaceful and well cared for my relative looked and that was and always will be really important to me. To know that the nurses had spent time making him look so comfortable meant so much. I also noticed the staff had taken time to make sure the room was clean and tidy and free from the clutter that surrounds any admission and rapid deterioration. Much later in the day, as I sat reflecting on the very unexpected turn of events, I found myself doing a mental review of the care, my own personal inspection of the standards of care for older people in acute care. I tried to stop myself but that was impossible. Much of my working life is focused on the standards of care and treatment patients receive, on trying to improve the patient experience and making sure relatives and carers are included in the process. I frequently hear what patients and their relatives think about our NHS services—good and bad—but I rarely experience it myself, so I could not stop myself from seeing how the care at Ninewells measured up to my own expectations. By the time I thought about the nursing and medical care, the communication, the environment, and the administrative process, I have to say it surpassed my expectations. As I said earlier, my relative, even in death, looked well cared for and his side room, while not the most modern or high tech, was clean and functional. The admissions unit was clearly busy and yet had an air of organised calm; staff were helpful and considerate, kind in their conversations and quietly efficient. The administration process around death certification was immediate and accompanied by a clear explanation of what to do next in terms of registering the death. However, it was the communication skills of the doctor who came to speak to me that were most Melanie Hornett Nurse Director NHS Lothian Health Board impressive. The doctor had absolutely no idea that I am a nurse or had any connection with the NHS. I am sure my experience was just routine for the doctor but it was not routine for me. She asked if she could come in, she made sure the door was closed and then crouched down to make sure we had eye level contact. She was clear and concise in her explanation of what had happened using plain English and no medical jargon. Her explanation was also always compassionate and caring. During the few minutes we were talking the doctor shared information with me but she did much more than that. It wasn’t what she said but how she said it, leaving me with a deep impression of someone who cared about her patients and reinforcing my view that my relative had been well cared for in every respect during his final hours.