04.01.2025

Six months ago, I started a new chapter in my life as a Support Worker at the British Red Cross in Poole. I never imagined I’d be doing this job. Honestly, I saw it very differently.

I always dreamed of working for the Red Cross.

I pictured myself in dramatic, life-saving scenarios — rescuing people after an earthquake or providing water to those stranded in the desert.

I thought it would be something out of a movie or a book.

But here I am, in Poole, doing something very different:

We help people after hospital stays. We drive them home, help with their groceries, and assist with small but essential daily tasks. At first glance, it seems like my dreams and reality have nothing in common. But the truth is, they do.

Why Everyday Support Matters More Than We Think

It’s much harder to be a good person in everyday life than in a crisis.

Why? Because we often think that help is needed far away — in disaster zones or in places where life is unimaginably hard.

And yes, that's true.

But there are people around us right now who need help, too.

I’ve seen it firsthand.

Without our support, some patients wouldn’t be able to return home after a hospital stay. Or they would get home much later, feeling weak and isolated.

For some, we’re the only people they’ll see that week.

Sometimes, we arrive to find the heating isn’t working, or they don’t even know how to turn it on.

These small acts of kindness — driving them home, helping them settle in — become lifelines.

What I’ve Learned

I’ve learned that supporting someone doesn’t have to be heroic to be life-changing.

Sometimes, it’s the small, everyday things that matter most:

✅ A warm meal.

✅ A friendly chat.

✅ A helping hand when they need it most.

It’s not what I imagined when I thought about the Red Cross.

But it’s something I’m incredibly proud to be part of.

10.01.2025

Let’s be honest – if you’re looking for a dull, predictable, responsibility-free job, support work is NOT for you. In fact, here are 5 very good reasons why you should steer clear:

1️⃣ You absolutely hate travelling.

New places? Exploring different neighbourhoods? Seeing your city from a fresh perspective? No, thanks. Much safer to stick to the same dreary commute every day and avoid any accidental moments of discovery.

2️⃣ You can’t stand talking to strangers.

Every service user is a new story, a different experience, a glimpse into a life you’d never otherwise know. Sounds exhausting, right? Far better to keep interactions to a minimum and leave the storytelling to Netflix.

3️⃣ Helping others just isn’t your thing.

Being the reason someone feels safe, supported, and valued? Far too much effort. Better to stay in your comfort zone and hope that someone else takes care of it.

4️⃣ You thrive on a monotonous routines.

If you love doing the same thing, at the same time, in the same place, every single day – stay away from support work. Here, no two days are ever the same, and you might actually have to think on your feet. Nightmare.

5️⃣ You have no interest in meaningful work.

Nothing worse than finishing your shift knowing you made a real difference. A simple thank you, a genuine smile – who needs that when you could just clock in, count the hours, and go home?

Conclusion:

If you prefer a job that’s predictable, uninspiring, and keeps you emotionally detached,  support work is NOT for you. This job will challenge you, reward you, and remind you that work can actually have purpose. And honestly, who would want that?

1.02.2025

"Robots and Artificial Intelligence will replace us"—this is the biggest fear in the job market in 2025. Both professionals and labor workers are worried: AI calculates better than accountants, understands laws faster and easier than lawyers, and androids are far stronger and more durable than warehouse workers.

But there are jobs that have nothing to fear. Support workers are among them.

Recently, I’ve been reading and learning a lot about AI and cybersecurity. The most interesting thing is that almost every expert agrees on one key human trait that no robot or artificial intelligence can replace. I’m talking about EMPATHY.

We feel, we care, we connect. We need communication. We crave a kind word. We want to hear support. And for our service users, therapy through words is one of the most critical parts of recovery after a hospital stay or a long illness.

When you visit the home of an elderly person, sometimes all they need is to talk. They want to see your eyes, feel they’re not alone, and immerse themselves in a conversation. They want to share their emotions, release their worries, and turn words into energy. That’s what helps them hold on, look forward to the next visit, and continue moving forward.

AI can talk—it can even act as a psychologist and conduct therapy sessions. And for some, it helps. But not for the lonely. Because we are humans. We live in connection with others.

No matter how advanced AI becomes, it will never replace the warmth of a compassionate glance. No algorithm can replicate the life-affirming warmth of a hand’s touch—the warmth of hope, the warmth of life itself.

This is something Kai-Fu Lee writes about in his book AI 2041: Ten Visions for Our Future. Kai-Fu Lee, one of the world’s leading experts on AI, describes life in the future, including how the elderly live in Australia. Of course, their health is monitored by countless apps and smart devices. But even the most advanced technologies can’t replace the help provided by young volunteers.

So yes, being a Support Worker in British Red Cross or somewhere else is not just a profession of the present—it’s a profession of the future! If you’ve chosen this path, you can rest assured that your skills and experience will still be in demand 50, even 100 years from now.

10.02.2025

Not a huge mistake. Nothing crashed, no users were harmed, no alarms went off. But still—a mistake.

And the easiest option? Pretend it never happened.

Nobody would know. No consequences. No awkward conversations.

And I’ll be honest—I thought about it.

That little voice in my head went:

"Why make a fuss? What if they punish you? What if this affects your reputation?"

But here’s the thing. I’ve seen enough detective stories to know one universal truth:

🚨 Cover-ups always backfire.

So I reported it.

✅ Told my manager.

✅ Filed the paperwork.

✅ Asked a colleague to check in with the user the next day.

Why? Because small secrets turn into big problems. You hide one thing today, it becomes a habit. That habit snowballs. And one day? BOOM.

💡 Lesson learned:

The difference between successful and unsuccessful people isn’t whether they make mistakes. It’s what they do next.

And let’s be real—most workplaces say they value transparency, but people are TERRIFIED to admit mistakes.

Why?

❌ Fear of looking incompetent.

❌ Fear of punishment.

❌ Fear of damaging your "success" status.

But you know what? I’d rather take the heat for a small mistake today than deal with a much bigger problem later.

I was recently asked in a job interview:

"Do you reflect on your work and actions?"

This was my answer. Yes, I do.

And next time, I’ll handle it even better.

17.02.2025

This question isn’t just philosophical—it’s deeply personal. What matters more: a job that pays well or one that gives you real meaning?

When I was younger, I didn’t think about it much. Like most people, I followed the well-trodden path: study, work hard, build a career. I wasn’t chasing money, but I also didn’t ask myself, “What’s the point of it all?” I worked everywhere: as a security guard, a coach, a radio host, and a journalist. I wasn’t looking for a paycheck—I was looking to become great at something.

But today, when I see kids growing up, they often seem to have just one question on their minds: How can I make more money?

And I get it. Money gives us security. But I also believe that when we make it the only goal, we lose sight of something far more important: the why behind our work.

Working with the British Red Cross has been a wake-up call for me. It’s shown me what happens when life takes an unexpected turn—when illness, loss, or misfortune turn everything upside down. I’ve met elderly people who lost everything, not because they made mistakes, but because life can be brutally unfair.

There’s a saying in Russian: “You cannot escape disease or prison.” And it’s true. None of us are immune to misfortune. One bad year, and everything can change. And in those moments, what do we have left?

When I work with the Red Cross, I see the answer: purpose. Helping others gives my day meaning. It reminds me that what I do matters.

Of course, I want to earn more—I’m only human. But I also know I don’t want to choose between money and meaning.

For me, it’s not about either-or. Meaning comes from the work we do, the care we give, the people we help. And when we focus on that, money often follows.

29.03.25

Ever walked into someone's life at a vulnerable moment and had to resist asking yourself: "How did it come to this?"

Working as a Support Worker at the British Red Cross, I help patients return home safely after hospital stays and support them in settling back into everyday life. It's an incredible job—rewarding, insightful, and occasionally quite the eye-opener. 

Truth be told, sometimes it's tough not to judge. You see things most people never encounter, and your mind inevitably starts crafting questions: "How did this happen? Why are things this way?" 

But quickly, you realise these questions don't have answers, at least not easy ones. Every patient, every home, every story is unique. And that's precisely the point. 

My role isn't to solve mysteries—I'm no Sherlock Holmes (though I'd rock the coat!). My role is to offer care, compassion, and a steady hand when life feels shaky. Sure, it can be challenging, but no one promised it would be easy, did they?

5.04.25

No Means Yes.

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned at British Red Cross.  At the Olympics, where I worked as a journalist, the golden rule for volunteers was: Never say no.  Even if you had no clue — smile, nod, and find a way. I assumed the same would apply in my new job.

It doesn’t.

Now I say NO regularly — politely, professionally, but still NO. Usually to lovely, overworked nurses who ask if we can take someone home. And I have to explain: we’re Support Workers, not paramedics. We help people who can walk, stand without assistance. Even a few steps matter.

Saying NO felt wrong at first. Until one day I arrived to collect a patient, and two nurses had to lift her just to sit her up.

That was the moment. No wasn’t difficult anymore — it was necessary. I realised I’m not saying no because I don’t care. I’m saying it because I do.

Because the job only works when we follow the rules — not when we try to be heroes.

And sure, saying no might cause a delay, or a few grumbles. But it also means saying YES to safety. Yes to dignity. Yes to doing things properly.

And that, as it turns out, is something worth saying yes to.