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!
Sunday 2 November 2014
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...
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...
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