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!
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