Backlash

I'm not telling you this because I want your pity or well wishes. I genuinely think this is a funny story about to unravel. A short one at that. It just goes to show how working with such a wide variety of people can open your eyes!

I was just scoping out some supplies in the store room when a health care assistant from the next door ward came in. I know this lady works bank shifts, and I have probably worked with her on the same ward about twice. I don't know her name and have been nothing but borderline civil with her. I doubt we have anything in common. But, I as I feel is my duty, I greeted her pleasantly and asked what she was searching for. I guided her to it and carried on my own hunt. As she is walking away, back out the door (without a thankyou, I may add) she nonchalantly says is her (husky man voice) 'You're gaining weight.'

That was it! I wasn't concentrating, so I asked her 'Huh?'

And she just repeated herself and walked off! I think I even thanked her for her comment in sheer shock and habit.

It would be hard to paint you a picture of this woman without sounding bitter, and emotionally effected, but I will attempt nonetheless. She is a big lady. And the physique is not helped by her choice of a dress uniform. Relatively tall too, so you can't miss her. With tiny round glassed pushed into her round face on top of a little pushed up piggy nose. These are facts. Not opinions.

Anyway, the truth of it is, that I have gain a couple of kilos. Not noticeable in my baggy uniforms, but that was purely down to the fact I was eating the same amount on my holidays as before, but without the stress filled, foodless days at work in between. I'll soon be back into the swing of things, I have no fear of that.

Getting on my bike a little more often too... But for fun, I assure you!

She was the first of three that week to make similar statements. Thank you all! I will swiftly keep track of those pesky six kilos, as they so clearly offend you. It's for the best in all accounts :D

Big Boast

I had a moment of glory!
I really want to share it, but it is pretty self indulgent, so I chose here.
Coming back to work after three weeks away I was understandably nervous. I took a holiday to commemorate my first six months of my new job. It was well over due.
So. My fellow nurse needed help with a young, female patient who wasn't allowed to move out of bed. The nurse was an agency nurse and want quite au fait with how we were going to manage to help her. 
Now a lot of people within my work environment have the horrid habit of asking about the patient when they are right in front of them. As if they have become deaf, dumb, mute AND immobile just because they're in a hospital bed. I'm constantly just repeating the phrase "They're there, why don't you ask them?!" with a sickly sweet grin on my face. 
I'm getting somewhere, I promise. SO, the nurse asked me a simple question about the patient we were standing in front of so I referred her to the patient, adding, to soften the blow of my indignace, that I had been away for a while and hadn't met this woman before. 
I then watched the patient as her cogs started rolling and asked me if I was Australian. I clarified, that I wasn't but had just been there for a bit of a break. Then! Here's the punchline. She said, so casually; "Ah, the Ward Manager said that if I had any issues at all, I should ask you because you're good and get get things done."
This is the moment I tried very hard, and I fear, failed to hide my immense pride and flattery.
I gushed a little and said something along the lines of "Ooooh, oh! Ah, did she. ReAlly? Hahaha. About me? She was talking about me? She, I, good?! Hah. Yeah. Anything!!"

There you have it. I felt like I had arrived. Fianlly, really, behind my back, confirmation!!
Also that night, I picked up the desk phone to her on the other line and she said 'Oh, Lovely C, it's you." I've made it!

She's still my boss though. Next step; besties.

Trying not to feel small!

A new nurse started on our ward recently. He was originally working on the ward linked to mine next door and he rotated over for the experience. I immediately enjoyed working with him and found it easy to bond with him as he's of a similar age. He's been qualified for three years now and has seen quite a bit. He comes across as really on the ball.

I've never been one to lay out a year by year plan for my education/ work/ relationships or ANY aspect of my life. I think it leads to disappointment and regret. Instead I take opportunities as they come up and am happy to learn from my mistakes if all goes tits up. Also, comparing myself to others is something I've never been akin to either; I'm six foot and don't always find it easy to go with the crowd so there was never any point. I'm different and I learnt to live with not fitting it. I really enjoy mostly!

HOWEVER, this last week I've had a horrid feeling of dread come over me. This fab nurse I mentioned before has just been given a Clinical Nurse Specialist job working under one of the main consultants. This is SO exciting for him and I'm really glad he took the position. Selfishly, I'm sad I won't get to work beside him anymore as he was so easy to get along with and great to watch work and learn from. And I found myself inexplicably comparing myself to him, and also with my ward manager, who I've probably mentioned I really want to be buddies with, but what with her being my senior and in a ridiculously busy and stressful ward, I don't expect we'll ever find such time. ANYHOO, I've had to keep reminding myself that just because we're are of relatively similar ages doesn't mean I should be at the same level as them. They have years of experience on me. I keep repeating to myself that 'its only been four month. That's it!! Give yourself a break!'

This feeling foolishly came over me again when this week for the first time, I had to put out my first Crash Call. That's the emergency phone call you make when you are fearing for the imminent danger your patient's life is in. In my case, losing about two litres of blood from his mouth and fainting. He is perfectly fine and well because of the amazing team that come to assist, but watching these nurses work just made me feel even more inadequate and unskilled. I was so very close to asking them all how long they had been nursing. Next time I will, as I'm sure they've been in the game for about ten years or more, and there I am, like a toddler watching their older siblings, wondering why I'm not as good as them, and thinking that I'm never going to be at such ease as they are working so confidently to so casually save a man's life in a matter of minutes. My only hope is that one day I get to be impressive too.

It doesn't help either, when your fellow, super experienced nurses just scoff and scold you went you state that you don't know how to do, or set up something they think you probably should. How they don't understand that they are my teachers and guides I don't know, but I'm sure my comments of 'if you don't take the time to teach me, who will...' are, not exactly hard hitting, but getting into their heads eventually.

On a lighter side I'm often struck at the things I have just taken as normality in my work life, things that I'm sure 97% of the population are totally alien to. You get the inside story though;
Being approached by an incredibly stimulating patient, who often wore me to exhaustion from just listening to her shout from across the ward, who was also very confused, and having her take me by the arm, pull me aside and tell me 'you're the best at putting my prolapses in. Please help me.' when in the middle of a telephone conversation was somewhat flattering to my manual skills and a little nauseating at the same time. My pride took over the strongest as I made my excuses to the person in the phone and allowed her to pull me into her shared bathroom to carry out my ever so dainty digital maneuvers. After that I was proud to announce how I was best skilled to care for this patient's double prolapse if in need! Disturbing, I know, but it's the little things!

Bric-a-brac

I've named this post thus, as this is going to be a bit disjointed as I get all the ideas out that I've had over the last three months. Bare with!

So being presented with a whole new workforce to spend the day alongside was tricky. Should I introduce myself? Do they already know my name? Do I need to know their name? Or their actual job role?
Usually, if I'm not being caught off guard, I do the thing that all my friends cringe at me for doing at parties; 'Hi! I'm C. (really over pronouncing my name so they don't mistake it for something else, which is a guarantee if I don't!!) What's your name? Uhuh. And what do you do? Ah, lovely! So what do you want.' Usually accompanied by the overly keen, wide eyed 'I'm in a hurry but and very willing to listen if you speak quickly' look. I'm practising that one.
Anyway, when deciding to BOND with a fellow team members one quickly has to figure out how much time and energy, if any, to spend. As my dearest friends will know, I put too much effort into almost all my connections, so this is really hard for me to judge. Getting to grips with the politics (which I vowed never to get involved with, but apparently is pretty unavoidable!!) is tricky! Deciding who is friend and who is foe. Phew!

Despite trying to stay on the sidelines whilst simultaneously wanting to befriend the entire crew, most of whom could not be bothered by my presence, I have forged what apparently, to my pleasant surprise, seems to have worked very well in my favour, a friendship. A fantastic health care assistant, whom I shall call Mina, decided she wanted to get to know me during a few night shifts we spent together. She told me how uptight and unbearable I was as a student and how chilled and easygoing I was turning out to be once I had settled down a bit. 'A new cooler version' apparently! Like a new improved iced coffee recipe. I'll go with that I thought.
Anyway, since this relationship has bloomed into cinema dates and sharing intimate details of social goings on, I seem to have inadvertently gained more healthcare assistants willing to been seen and heard with me. I almost feel like 'one of them' on a good night shift! I'm sure Mina had something to do with this. Probably not fully intentionally, but she is definitely a big personality and a long timer too with a lot of influence and character. It's also made it so much more apparent to me how much the healthcare assistants get to work together as a team and how much they have to depend on each other, as they can rarely depend on us nurses to help them out when they're busy as we often have a 'bigger', 'better' or 'more urgent' matter to be dealing with. It also makes me sad that I don't get the opportunity to work alongside my fellow nurses as they get to work along side their fellow healthcare assistants. I'm glad of this awakening too. I will be so much more willing to lend a hand when I have a spare moment or share their work load, as I couldn't even bare thinking about doing my job without them!! 

This brings me ever so smooothly to my next point of the dreaded *Allocation* at the beginning of the day! This is where the nurse in charge decides which patients I will be taking on and which health care assistant I will be working alongside. Naturally there are people we work better with and others we don't. Hearing certain names will bring a little leap into my chest and others a sinking feeling into my stomach. The day can be so much harder when you know you'll have to ask twice or really consider how you say something, or how to, to be frank, demand things to be done, in an amenable fashion without coming across as a monster, when they are perhaps, less willing! 
In the same breath, the day can just gliiide by when you have someone one step ahead of you and even offering to take work from you! I have to watch myself not to take full advantage of these angels! It's a tad easy! And also means, in some cases, I just let them take most of the responsibility for my patients. Especially in the case of when they have been allocated just one or four patients to supervise. 

Moving on. Being one of very very few young faces on the ward, I am in a way, pretty novel. I have on a couple of occasions now, when in general conversation in the staff room, when mentioning my past or (until recently) non existent love life, been met with 'You're SO young though!' and 'You'll find someone.' that usually comes with a sympathetic smile that makes cringe. Despite my protests of 'I'm not looking right now' and 'I'm not counting down the years yet' and the laboured joke of 'I've accepted spinsterdom, anything above that and I'm set!' they continue with the counter attacks of 'Ooh, but have you seen how the theatre porters look at you?!' and 'You know, that new doctor is good looking. Very handsome. Why don't you...' As if all I have to is just point and wink at whomsoever I wish and seal the deal!
One day in aforementioned staff room (which I now try and avoid at all costs) whilst munching through a packet of lemon cream biscuits Ronald had passed onto me, minding my own business, I am suddenly aware of a lot of purple uniformed eyes on me. The domestic staff, clearly recognisable from their mauve attire were apparently just discussing the love interest of a colleague of theirs. I become aware of their conversation when one of them points at me, and says very audibly; 'it's her, you know. Yeah. This girl.' Intrigued, I lift my head and find her finger pointed right in my face. Mouth full of overly sweet biscuit I try to hold the contents there whilst having to fight the urge to drop my jaw and manage to splutter a 'HUH!?' followed shortly by a 'What?!' Then a 'Me?' then subsequently a final 'Huh!'. It doesn't take much for me to pry the story that I had missed out of them once I manage to ingest my sweet treat. They described their colleague as an old, tall, irishman with grey hair. Now, being quite observant and friendly I pride myself on having at least a vague knowledge of most of the people that pass through the ward on a regular basis. This man, initially, was not one of them! This man who, according to the domestic, had picked me out and was going to make his wife, is now on my radar. I had missed him to begin with on account of him being very quite and not a chatty man at all, I had assumed him a non-native speaker. I assured the domestics that nothing would be able to happen between my future celtic husband and I if he wasn't willing first, to at least introduce himself. His female colleagues in the staff room didn't even know his name poor thing! So it seems, I am no longer invisible!! My uniform and new found confidence might not all together be a good thing after all!

So many more stories, so little margins between boring you and you wanting more. I'll keep them coming. I try to be less prolific, but it's no use. My natural verbose nature will not desist. I hope you've enjoyed my accounts in any matter!! Thanks for taking the time.

I'm back!!

So the first posts were clearly me trying to understand the new role I’d taken on. I was very pensive and overwhelmed. A bit of soul searching was needed and you were there to listen. For that I am grateful.

NOW! However, I have totally got to grips with the fact I help people live, or help them die and that usually comes with obstacles, most of which are manageable. Most of which everyone outside of this spectrum of care, avoids thinking about unless, they have to, or I tell them in great gruesome detail!

From here I will be referring to a list of things I’ve jotted down in the last three months that are a ‘must’ to include here. Then, the idea is that this will get the ball rolling for me to be speedier with keeping you up to date. I might even start doing it in real time now I’m getting used to owning a smart phone!

This first story could have done with a blog to itself! And has actually already drawn to a close; it all started one afternoon as a helpful student. I went downstairs to the basement. One of my favourite places to pay a visit to as the kitchen and linen stores are down there so you always come back with goodies. Albeit spare towels or the all-important kosher meal that didn’t come up with the lunch trolley, these things will always make your day go by easier. Anyway! I don’t remember what exactly I was doing down there but a friendly old man offered me some biscuits as I was about to get into the lift again. I politely refused as I assumed he was talking about the mini packs of biscuits we give to the patients and I know precisely where my wards own stash of those is and I probably didn’t need much more temptation for the day. Later in the week, our paths crossed again. This time he was quick enough to push a packet of South African biscuits into my hand which I gratefully received and made my way back up to the ward having made a friend of the old man. I’ll call him Ronald. He told me he had a friend who works for some airline, so he had a good supply of South African goodies.
After this I would see him more and more often on my ward filling up the linen cupboard. I would always ask him how he was and wish him a good day. He was very forward but I just took him as a lonely old man and went along with it. This always gets me into trouble!!
Next he asks for my number. I’m very clear here! He can’t have my number, or my Facebook, I don’t want to message him or call him outside of work like he suggests we might. However, he keeps pushing and it’s getting awkward, so I settle and give him my email address. I leave feeling a bit odd, but all together just a bit sorry for an old man trying to make inappropriately young friends and brush it off.
He starts bringing me more and more food, including massive apples, beef jerky and really tasty drinks which I look forward to the most, and always biscuits! Each time I tell him, that I have food and that it’s very kind but he needn’t make the effort. I don’t really put up a fight though because, I won’t lie, I’m a sucker for free food! And it’s better than the dry crackers and wilted salad I have instore most days. He pushes the food into my hands telling me that if noone else is going to look after me then he will have to. I think I let him get away with more than I would have done others probably by a cultural bias; he is from the west of Africa, and I didn’t want to offend him, as I would anyone,  by obstinately denying his efforts of friendship.
Soon, however, he suggests I might be the kind of girl who likes perfume, and as it approaches the festive season, what I might like for Christmas. Both times I am very quick to shut him down and let him know how inappropriate I think that would be.
People around the ward are starting to get wind of this weird friendship and minor obsessive behaviour of Ronald’s. They just encourage him though. By telling him whether or not I’m working and where he can find me. One day I make quite a scene over not wanting to accept his last dogeared business card as I will not ever use the details on it, which caught the attention of a lovely occupational therapist who found the whole situation hilarious, as most others do when they hear it. After one super creepy encounter of him wrapping his arms around me and SNIFFING me in, I decide that this is way over the line. I will somehow have to make it stop!
Except, I was clueless. I hate having to put people down and basically never ever do it and just accept the consequences. One fine day just into the New Year I had the fantastic help of a patient’s daughter, whom I had got rather close to as she was always around. I had told her my predicament after seeing him come on the ward, and thankfully miss the sight of me. He would be back later to check again to my whereabouts though, as always. She gave me the harsh words I needed to hear, as did her mother, my patient!
After carrying around the heavy dread in my stomach all morning I see him, unavoidably, as I walk between my patients’ rooms busily looking at their folders to avoid his gaze. Ronald proudly presents the ominous brown paper bag all my gifts of food come in, and declares that this time it’s from his holiday he’s just returned from in America. With the words of my patient in my head I squeak out my excuses for not accepting his thoughtful gift, ready for the wave of the usual excuses and reasons I should take this from him. To my relief and simultaneous guilt, he stalks away with barely a word. Just like that. Maybe he sensed my pumped up determination or he was in a sensitive mood, but it worked!! I haven’t seen him since!! I have been working nights and weekends which is a major factor in that… but nonetheless, my guilt has faded and I may miss the constant flow of biscuits, but one less creep in one’s life is always for the best!! And my fear of becoming a fat nurse is a little further away now too!

My new mantra; it’s tough, but I am too!

I’ll leave this post there. Poor Ronald, he deserves a standalone dedication at least!

Pride and Dignity

I have started my preceptorship programme this week. This is basically an extra hand to hold as I 'transition from student to staff nurse'. It sounds a bit prissy. And it is. But I get to meet new people and talk about my experiences with others in the same boat and get paid for the pleasure, as it counts as study or training. I'm not complaining! And actually the extra support is a nice feeling. Just more people in the system I can reach out to when no one seems to know what to do with me.

On this first preceptorship meeting we had Ashley Brooks, the National Patient Champion talk for us. I have heard him speak before and he can be quite emotive. Especially when you're feeling all gooey on the inside (a common side effect of a mental breakdown). He didn't let me down this time either! He remembered me from the last time, which was quite touching, but it's not too much of a surprise as I started crying hysterically, instead of actually being able to say 'great talk Ash, I wonder if you could help me with the situation my ward is in at the moment.' I think I got as far as 'I... hmmm... yeeeaaah...' after he asked me how I was finding the last ever placement as a student before stepping up as a nurse. He responded by fetching over, only the Deputy Chief Nurse and Assistant Chief Nurse of the entire trust to staunch my leaking eyes. Such finesse!

Although lacking in focus on any of the political, hierarchical or social struggles we are currently and have always faced as nurses he was an excellent boost into reminding me why I have chosen this vocation. 

He spoke about how the uniform I wear, that to me symbolises an ability to represent me without having to think of me as an individual but just one of the work force leaving me with nothing to do but follow orders from above and delegate to those below, is actually a token of pride. Something to be earned. A portrayal of my hard work and devotion in my three years of training and graft. The climb to what I have achieved and a badge to be proud of. This 'badge of honour' concept is a bit military and superficial for my liking and that can slowly lead to arrogance but I think that it's a healthier way to look at having to wash and dry the damn things every week!

Along with pride, he spoke of a nurse having dignity. This speaks to me a lot stronger. Having dignity in my uniform and my job goes along very naturally for me with the sense that 'if someone walked in right now, what would they see?' I have this in my mind to keep me from napping on the spare beds and stealing the old men's toffees. That doesn't mean, however, that I feel the need to keep my language squeaky clean and not eat in public, as I should always, essentially, be me. I am not there to please every patient on an aesthetic level but on a physical and emotion one.

I have had a glorious few days off to recover from the initial shock of my brand new role. I start again from fresh this week. The prospect of not having to jump through moving hoops, trying to chase another nurse that is receptive to my situation and needs and who was willing to take on my medication rounds is not a worry anymore. 
And as it stands, I'm quite happy to not yet have a computer log in. I get to pawn off any of that boring online paperwork to a much more competent and quicker form-filler-outer. I'll enjoy it whilst I can. In the mean time I will still have a mountain of hand written paperwork to get on top of, underneath and through, each and every day. 

Until next week!

I did it!

I have finally had to rise to and get over the challenge of taking on my own case load of 6/7 patients. 

The first of the two shifts I have done as a nurse (nearly) in my own right, was set up to be potentially horrific. We were a nurse down and had inadequate count of healthcare assistants. I was given eight patients, two of whom had to be supervised constantly for their own safety, which took up two healthcare assistants, leaving me with no one else to help me with the remaining six. I dived into the deep end with my chin up and and chest puffed up. Around late morning I felt the realisation of responsibility and accountability dawn on me quite heavily. My chin not so prominent and crestfallen I was avoiding everyone's gaze, lest they want to ask me a favour or give me a message as they would be used to. 

On my return from one of the countless runs I had made to the store room I had the all too familiar feeling in my throat, stomach and heart as my eyes started to become blurry and stingy. These symptoms used to be something so rare and unrecognisable to me I would often be taken completely by surprise by them. In most situations in the past year I would have no choice in the fact that these symptoms would overwhelm me and be accompanied by uncontrollable thoughts of how rubbish the world is treating me and how awful I am at dealing with such simple situations and why couldn't I do it anymore, whilst the former me would have laughed in the face of the challenge.

Right at that moment, however, the old me DID take over! It said something along the lines of 'Really?! Now?! You have a choice here lady!! Either you cry, go ahead, try and find a corner and give up, or STOP it, suck it the hell up and carry on! Just like you are. Just like you have.' And it worked. I didn't get so far as to laugh at myself, which I used to do. But I was so shocked that it worked that I didn't even think to stop and reflect on why I didn't need to feel like that. The rest of the day passed relatively smoothly and I got through it, and the next day getting everything done that needed to be (except for the drugs round as I haven't yet been cleared for that, and the online paper work which I can't access) and on time! And with a smile on my face. I don't think it's too cavalier to say that I am PROUD of myself. Especially for getting out on time, as I thought time management was going to be my biggest challenge. Saying that, I haven't had evening breaks since my first week... I'll work on that.

Ironically, me becoming more responsible and able to take care of others professionally has led in a steep decline in me looking after myself. This leads my friends having to pick up the slack. My wonderful friends and housemates are constantly asking me if I have eaten and in response to my prolonged silence and guilty face, order me to sit down and to wait whilst they refuse all help in making me wonderful food. The delirium that comes along with my fatigue and low blood sugar is characterisable by my inability to form sentences and giving up halfway through a story or being too frazzled and feeble to give the twenty minute explanations that normally accompany any question posed to me and instead replacing them with nods, grunts or sighs. The staring into the mid distance is a give away too. 

I'm certain that this won't last for long! I just have to get used to the idea of spending decent money of food and get into the habit of actually getting to the shops to buy it. I'm determined not to let the awful shift patterns and waking hours disrupt my respect for and the pattern of relatively healthy eating. 

This week I will finally be able to take ownership of my own skills! My nursing Personal Identification Number has finally turned up. No thanks to the teenager in HR that is apparently looking after my casefile though. Despite telling me out right that the reason that he hasn't contacted me in ten days even after my hounding and confused emails, was that he had 'just forgotten' me. Great job! I used my 'action learning' communication skills on him by asking him how he thought he could resolve this situation and who he could ask for help. He clearly knew nothing; he was constantly leaving me to 'ask someone' for me. Then I gave up and told him 'well thanks, this has been torture, so if you could just email be back next time, EVEN if it's to say you don't know or that I've been forgotten, that would be great!'. Don't think he caught my fake smile down the phone unfortunately...