I did not fully understand the weight of primary healthcare until I was inside it.
I had worked in employee relations before. I understood processes, investigations, difficult conversations, the architecture of a disciplinary hearing. I knew the theory of wellbeing, had read the research, could talk fluently about psychological safety and burnout and the conditions under which people do their best work.
And then I stepped into a GP practice, and a lot of what I thought I knew had to find its footing in a completely different kind of ground.
Primary care is where the NHS meets real people on real days. It is where someone comes because they are frightened, because something has changed in their body or their mind, because they do not know what is wrong but they know something is. The staff who receive those people every morning, the GPs, the nurses, the healthcare assistants, the receptionists taking calls before eight, carry a specific and largely invisible kind of weight. And my job, for two years, was to support the systems and the people that made all of that possible.
What HR Looks Like When the Stakes Are Clinical
In most workplace contexts, the consequence of a process failure is a bad outcome, a project delayed, a relationship strained, a decision poorly made. In a clinical environment, the consequence of a process failure can be something much harder to come back from.
This sharpens everything. Compliance in a GP practice is not bureaucratic formality, it is the architecture of patient safety. The DBS check that was not renewed on time. The immunisation record that was not updated. The safeguarding training that lapsed. These are not administrative loose ends. They are the kinds of gaps that, in the wrong circumstances, become something far more serious.
I carried that understanding into every piece of HR work I did in that setting. The urgency was different. The responsibility felt different. And the way I thought about what it means to “get things right” became considerably more precise.
The Receptionists Nobody Sees
If I had to name the single most significant thing those two years taught me, it would be this: the people who are most underestimated in a healthcare setting are often the ones absorbing the most.
GP receptionists are the subject of a particular cultural frustration in the UK, the gatekeepers, the difficult ones, the people who ask too many questions before letting you through to a doctor. What that narrative misses, entirely, is what it actually requires to do that job.
A receptionist at a busy GP practice is managing distressed people, urgent calls, prescription queries, appointment pressure, administrative complexity, and the emotional residue of every difficult interaction, often without a moment to process one before the next one arrives. They are frequently the first point of contact for someone in crisis. They do this, in most cases, for wages that reflect none of that.
Part of my work was making sure those people were seen, supported, and treated with the same attention that HR systems tend to reserve for clinical staff. That meant being deliberate about it, because the systems were not naturally designed that way.
Compliance as Care
Something shifted in how I understood compliance during those two years.
Before the GP practice, I would have described compliance as the structural part of my job, the policies, the audits, the records, the checks. Necessary and important, but not the part that felt most alive.
Inside a clinical setting, I came to see compliance differently. A well-maintained staff record is a form of care, for the patient who will be treated by that member of staff, and for the staff member themselves, who deserves to work within a system that takes their safety and accountability seriously. A safeguarding policy that is understood and lived, not just filed, is a form of care. An appraisal process that is genuinely developmental, not just performative, is a form of care.
The distance between HR and clinical work is smaller than people think. Both are, at their core, about creating conditions under which people โ patients and staff alike, can be safe, respected, and well.
The Particular Challenge of Small Organisations
GP practices are, in structural terms, small organisations. Most employ somewhere between twenty and sixty people, depending on their size and list. And small organisations create specific HR challenges that do not appear in the standard textbook.
There is less structural distance. When a manager is also a colleague, also someone you see every day, also someone whose children are in the same school as your children, the professional relationship carries a relational weight that changes the texture of difficult conversations. The GP who is the employer, the clinical lead, and the person you are about to have a performance conversation with is all three things simultaneously. That requires a different kind of navigation.
There is also less resource. A small organisation cannot have an HR department. It has, if it is lucky, an HR professional. One person holding the entire people function (recruitment, compliance, relations, wellbeing, policy, training, investigation) alongside every other responsibility. That requires a clarity about priorities, a discipline about what actually matters, that I think made me more practically capable than any formal training could have.
What I Carry Forward
The two years I spent in that practice changed the shape of how I think about the relationship between people, systems, and care.
I carry forward a much finer sense of what it costs to work in a high-pressure healthcare environment, not abstractly, but in the specific, embodied reality of a Tuesday morning when the phones do not stop and someone is crying in the waiting room and the rota has a gap that was not there yesterday. I carry forward a respect for compliance that is not about rule-following but about understanding what the rules are protecting. And I carry forward a particular tenderness for the people in organisations who are doing essential work that the structure around them has not yet learned how to fully see.
HR in healthcare is not a separate function from care. It is part of it. That is the lesson I took with me. I suspect I will be drawing on it for the rest of my career.
Related reading: The Impact of Psychology on Workplace Wellbeing | The Hidden Cost of Always Being the Reliable One | Navigating Work Culture with Invisible Chronic Illnesses | CIPD: HR in health and social care














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