A Specticle & Specticles ...

On the momentous occasion of the wedding of our next but one Monarch, the royal we were having our eyes tested, watch the monarchy crumble.

I not offended by the Royal Family (as long as I don’t think about it too hard) or the marriage of Will & Kate; just disinterested and improved sight seemed significantly more important. After all in essence it’s just two young people probably very much in love getting married, even lefties like me can enjoy a fairytale.

I’m conflicted by Royalty mainly ‘cause there’s just so many of ‘em and they’re all costing the British tax payer so much. Yes I agree they often represent the Country well and bring in foreign tourism, but I’m not sure this can be said about Viscount Severn (currently eighth in line for the throne)- although he is only four years of age.

I felt a rare (slight) sense of national pride seeing the crowds gather in the capital, the celebrations on the streets and the pomp & Englishness of the whole specticle. So let’s have our celebration, our moment of national pride, whilst the sun still shines and let’s have new glasses- a specticle and specticles. Maybe Will & Kate will be the ones to change the monarchy and consequently history?

EJT requires supervision to avoid ending up with ugly bins, it was difficult for us to obtain an appointment together, week-ends are obviously a premium so the unexpected holiday it was.

The optician didn’t even get my gag …

H R H

I

DO

… then dropped the bomb shell about high pressure and possible glaucoma (way to bring down the bank holiday mood)

Following our visit to the opticians we walked through Weatherspoons (needed the toilet, damn you weak bladder) everyone was having on alco(bank)holiday. There were flags, bunting, free cake and an air of expectant jubilation … sadly this had not been communicated to their regulars. The sight of mournful alchi’s in party hats is in fact incredibly depressing. For them (and many others I suppose) a day like any other … except you get a chunk of cake to soak up the beer and a paper head-cone!

It still makes no census at all

Sat in Caffe Nero this morning, a lady (I use this in its loosest sense- a female) at the table next was completing her census form, whilst at the same time also berating her partner about how hopeless he was, his responsibilities, failures and the likelihood of them receiving a fine.

Good I thought

Better late (30 days late) than never I suppose?

Back to work

The off-duty still isn’t published- no wonder I was getting daggers of the staff throughout todays shift. Apparently it needed some “adjustments” after I completed it without two members of staff (who have now returning after being on sick leave) and giving JK numerous management days.

Odd that having extra staff has caused nearly an fortnight extra delay in publication. I don’t understand, I really don't. It makes me wonder why I bothered? I battled to get it out, to make it fair and grant everyone there requests; my only goal was to get it out swiftly, give everyone a bit more notice and aid planning. FAIL!

I don't think she realises how important knowing shifts is advance is and the difficulties not knowing can create at home. I have tried to explain this on numerous occasions, but it has always fell on deaf ears or been taken on a tangent. I know there are extenuating circumstances on occasion, but not always ...

Back to work and little has changed ...

Well other than that we once again had only one patient and the staff / cloak room has now gone. I still have a locker, but now it's situated far-far away; a bit of a pain when my pen runs out,  I need to grab my wallet or collect my cereal for breakfast. But this is the decision made and sad as I am to say it it's probably a case of use it or lose it (even if it is in a different postcode area).

I very much like ...

Back to life, back to reality …

Back to work. Blaaaaaa!

All good things must come to an end, so I bid farewell to Henrietta, Tarquin, Martha et al.

But first to Nottingham for Big Country (320 mile journey).

21st April 2011- Judgment Day

According to the Terminator film franchise today the Skynet Computer network begins its assault on humanity.

Nothing as yet, but I have struggled to pick-up a Wi-Fi signal.

Plink-plonk

The whole hotel is full of the most precoutious children I have encountered for quite some time. I have just witnessed a small child (could even be described as a baby, a fetus even) play the piano; not some random plink-plonk but an actual short piece. How unpleasant.

Here at BR&S you never get the opportunity to be truly hungry, peckish but never really hungry.

Wake

- Coffee – Breakfast – Coffee – Drink – Lunch – Drink – Snack – Drink – Tea – Wine - Coffee – Drink -

 Bed

Think we’re going off plan with Slimming World this week.



Pool Closure

Some dirty monkey has dropped a turd in the swimming pool this morning, leading to its closure for 24hrs (as can be seen by the strongly worded message below).

It didn’t cause too much disruption to us particularly (other than curtailing NVB post-breakfast splash); we were spending more time at the beach. But some of our fellow guests were most disgruntled, and didn’t we know it?!?

Immersion (P*ss Christ) Andres Serrano (1987)

A photograph of a plastic Crucifix in a glass of the artists’ urine; according to Serrano it is a statement on the misuse of religion, the billion dollar Christ – for – profit industry and a condemnation of those who abuse the teachings of Chris for their own ignoble ends. Part of Serrano’s series showing religious objects submerged in various fluids (blood, milk, etc)

Controversy has followed the work since it’s creation in 1987, but reached an unprecedented peak on Palm Sunday when it was attacked with hammers and slashed after an "anti-blasphemy" campaign by French Catholic fundamentalists whilst on display in the southern city of Avignon in France.

I don’t find the picture offensive, if anything rather imaginative, my initial concern after originally viewing it and then discovering it was the artists own urine (not Irn-Bru or Tizer as it appears) was that Serrano needed further medical investigation- so lurid, luminous and orange is the fluid (a number of samples left to ferment, not one fresh MSU).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andres_Serrano

Bolton 0 Stoke 5

Bedruthan Steps

Celebrate

It is finished

Five nights completed and I’ve survived (just about), although right about now I feel rather grotty!

Whoop- whoop and indeed whoop again.

Ten days away from the hospital

Wonder what Cornwall will bring?

A good rest, fresh air, fine food, interesting beers, reading, walking, trips out and most importantly quality time with EJT and the Chadwick / Biddlecombes.

By constant exposure I’m going to try and reduce the wariness NVB has of me; it’s almost likes she knows I imprison children and cause them distress. More accurate to say that many toddlers (especially girls) are uncertain of men in general (even men they see fairly regularly) for the time between starting to walk and starting to talk in sentences. As she’s become a right little chatterbox I hope her distress will soon pass?

A bit of Pooh chasing (chasing her with the Winnie the Pooh, not a turd!), face shaking, daft voices & silly play, along with frequent exposure will maybe make it easier?

When she was a baby I was the baby whisperer (perhaps ‘cause she couldn’t get away?), now I’m scary-hair-lardy man, looked at from behind furniture.

“Come on Nanc’; I’m a children’s nurse, you’re making me look bad! Can’t we return to the golden(?) time of magic chairs & projectile vomiting?”

But if she’s making me go in the bear-pit for meals then I may start hiding from her?

Fourth Night

Fourth night and it’s gone to too much of an extreme- very quiet now after the three previous busier ones. It doesn’t matter if I do everything tonight; there still isn’t enough to keep me occupied.

I didn’t sleep so well yesterday and consequently feel pretty tired now. The activity on the last few nights has kept the fatigue at bay, but as it quietens so those all too familiar heavy eyelids return.

I think of being tucked up with EJT or all that I could be doing at home (even at three in the morning), making an inroad with my packing for Cornwall would certainly be beneficial. But I'm stuck here, wishing the hours away. Is that clock broken?

Killing Me Softly

http://www.apa.org/monitor/2011/01/night-work.aspx

Done & done

I have completed the off-duty, and it's okay. Obviously it goes without satying that it will be rubbished by all and won't meet the approval of the powers that be, but I have completed the off-duty and I think it's okay!

Back in Blue

I have returned to navy blue epaulettes, once again I have tossed the teal away and am back in blue. I don't care what colour I wear, all I wish is that they'd make up their minds. It's sad to say that people are a whole lot nicer to me when I wear navy, so obviously a sense of respect of hierarchy still exists within the hospital. I'll probably be in lilac by next week?!?

I don't really get it!

I don't really get it, yet it seems fairly accurate

There's lazy and then there's l - a - z - y

The nurse I’m on with seems content to leave me to do everything (here’s one person who certainly isn’t respecting my authority irrespective of the colour of my epaulets!) I had heard some tales (calls to Pakistan (both made & received), texting all night, loathed to do anything, short tempered, goby, militant and generally a bit unpleasant. No wonder they sent her to us?), but it’s always best to make your own judgements rather than be unduly influenced by the opinions of others.

Saying that I think they were largely right- idle wench.

Don’t misunderstand I have nothing against a bit of laziness (especially on nights), but it’s got to appropriate in consideration of the workload of the ward at the time. Bumming around reading magazines and drinking pop at 3am is quite different to taking root at the beginning of the shift and watching dvd’s all night (whilst watching your colleague dart about).

One bonus, the less she does the more I have to and that ensures the shift passes speedily.

I’m not one for confrontation at the best of times, anything for an easy life (especially when I’m on nights) preferring to see how things pan out.

You’d think that during her first few weeks she’d be desperate to make a good impression, but on her first day I came out of the main bay to find her eating a packet of crisps at the nursing station. This seems to have set a president from then on. I only recalled her as a student and thought she was okay (Okay, not really much of a compliment), that was three years ago and people can be very different as they progress from student nurse to staff nurse

I’m fearful that if I do say anything she’ll mud sling or play the race card or the fact she’s pregnant. It’s perfectly acceptable to struggle with nights when you’re pregnant (its perfect acceptable to struggle … even when you’re not pregnant), but if that’s the case admit it, don’t hide behind excuses or take the piss. She is certainly taking the piss.

I am aware that I’m notoriously easy going and consequently often all too easy to take advantage of, but if I’m not impressed (and let’s be honest history shows I am very easily impressed) I look forward to hearing the opinion of the other staff; they are not as tolerant (understatement).

Off-duty (again)

After gazing at the off-duty for a few hours I have come to a number of conclusions ...

Firstly, completing the off-duty is a thankless task.
Secondly, no one wishes to do a night shift on a Friday, Saturday or Sunday.
Thirdly, it would be significantly easier without some staff being off sick.
Fourthly, it would also be easier if I could actually access the online rostering system, not try to complete it on little scraps of paper littering my desk.
Fifthly, I'm not very good at this kind of stuff at all at all!

Hotel

I still get tremendously excited about staying in hotels, the wondrous anonymity of staying in that sterile little bubble. The decadence of staying in a hotel is exaggerated when you haven’t travelled particularly far from home, when it could be said that there is no real need to stay over and you could easily just pop back home. And we stayed two nights in Birmingham, 37 miles from Stone- door (home) to door (hotel) Double decadence.

I love everything about a hotel stay- The miniature bottles of toiletries, sewing kits, shower caps, overpriced minibar, the refreshment tray, the quarter sized kettle (only in a hotel would cut consider filling up a kettle from a bathroom tap), room service, the excess of an all you can eat breakfast.

The recklessness of throwing your damp towels into the bath instead of carefully hanging them up. The magic pixies (mainly from the Eastern Block) that make your bed and return order to the room. I don’t like to take advantage, I am acutely aware that a low wage drone is given responsibility of tidying and checking on a very tight time scale. Of that I feel guilty, but that perhaps makes me more appreciative and makes it even more of a treat?

I realize that in a fourteen day period we will stay in four different hotels, cracking.



Blaaaaaaa nights!

Excluding rape, Rwanda, Child exploitation, Faminee, Pestilence & misery and Piers Morgan there are perhaps few things a bad as driving into work prior to a night shift on a lovely sunny Sunday evening. I promise you that almost nothing can bring your mood down as quickly as seeing families out & about, people sitting in beer gardens and the general happiness of others, knowing the potentially rubbishness of the night that lies ahead of you.

"It makes no census at all"

A young lady came to the door this afternoon chasing up completion of our census form. For some apparent reason we received two forms (probably associated with us being a fairly newly built property?), I informed the census people who instructed me to complete one and dispose of the other. Informing them obviously hasn't stopped us appearing on the NOT RETURNED AND REQUIRING A VISIT PILE. Thankfully because I have become increasingly wary of government agencies I ignored the census departments advice and retained both the additional details contained in the original package and the intact & sealed duplicate for just such an occurence, The production of such at least confirms I'm telling the truth.

I enjoy form filling so would gladly have completed a second, but that seems to defeat the point somehow. If anything I wished there had been more questions and it had been more intrusive (where were the questions about shoe size, political views and sexual activity?)

I await the arrival of a £1000 fine.

Cornish Pasties

I finally took the step to purchase a new pair of Cornish Pasties for work. I resent paying a large amount of money for work shoes, which is utterly foolish considering how much time I spend at work & on my feet. I’d think little of spending £70 on a pair of trainers, but wince when forced to pay that for the most sensible of sensible shoes.

I’ve been waiting for my old pair (the most ugly of shoes) to die, but even when standing in Clarks trying to find a suitable replacement style was out-weighed by comfort and practicality. These might actually be worse, at least the others had character, these are utterly bland.

I look a state.

My tunic billows, my trousers are loose and look like sack-cloth; loathed as the NHS is to replace uniforms until they are on their last legs. I  long ago replaced my regular issue trousers ‘cause the NHS cut didn’t suit (poor arse coverage and unequal leg lengths- the mark of quality) and the material rubbed my legs red raw despite numerous washes and soaking in a bucket of Comfort. It’s just as bad for the girls; they are forced to pin and reinforce zips and seams to avoid unnecessarily exposing themselves as their clothes break down & decay from frequeent hot washes

I could of course put in my own uniform requisition without it being questioned, but I would like to crash off a bit more weight first.

Then of course there is the humiliation aspect of gaining a new uniform. Rather than take peoples word for their measurements to staff of the sewing room like to wield the tape & check. That would be bad enough but they also like you to try on a sample to check cut (unflattering), length (too long / too short) and the like. I am probably one of the biggest members of staff within the trust, so they don’t have a ready supply of suitable options, but they try, do they try. On a number of occasions a lilac crop-top has been offered, much too wide and much too short. Last time I stood firm and just said no; you have my measurements and existing uniform. Cope!

Urban degradation and decay

It is evident that many areas of the Potteries and Staffordshire remain hit harder than most by the ongoing recession (we certainly haven’t left it) It’s most obvious on the High streets of the outlying Towns that make up the Potteries (Arnold Bennett’s now expanded five-towns- Tunstall, Burslem, Longton (plus Fenton, the forgotten town), Hanley & Stoke).

In rural towns (Leek, Biddulph and Newcastle & Stone to a certain extent) the only the only successes appear to be coffee shops and charity shops. In the City (perhaps a slightly too grand term for Hanley?) to those two successes you can only add Exchange stores & cash converters (Pawn shops by any other name). In the eighties of my adolescence it appeared that every other store front was an estate agent.

All about the numbers

146.7

Childish

I arrived at Reuben’s early this morning prior to my yearly account review meeting at the bank, so I sat at ‘their’ table- puerile & churlish but deeply satisfying. Satisfying that is until they arrived and then I felt guilty and made a hasty exit. I must admit it is a nice table, situated in the window (lovely and bright), with tables & chairs that are just the right height.

Off-duty

By some unfortunate twist of circumstance I now find myself completing the ward off-duty.

I’m hopeless at such things; I don’t really have the analytical mind that can balance shifts and process rotas. It’s going to cause me sleepless nights and much aggro, of that I’m sure, but I’ll give it a go. My hope is to publish it a little earlier in the month, giving staff a bit more notice,  but if my shifts are poor in future then the only person I can blame is myself.

I’m probably too sensitive to do it successfully or long-term, yet I think it’s important to try if only to lift some weight of JK and involve myself in more management duties. Doesn’t stop it being rubbish though.

Requests will remain open until Sunday and I hope to pull it together whilst I’m on nights next week, having it completed before I go off on holiday to Cornwall. Just thinking about it makes me anxious, sweaty and my bowel starts to loosen slightly! So much so I have had to hide the scribbled rough  duty in a draw to avoid the desire to work on it at all hours. Knowing my luck I’d complete it fully only to return to work to find someone has altered their requests “I can’t do Tuesdays!”

My humps

"My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely laddy lumps (Check it out)"

Not talking about my moobs. I’ve noticed a large lump centrally at the top of my spine. Since childhood my back has always been lumpy & bumpy, little pieces of gristle that gather. Since losing a little weight this particular protrudence has become significantly more prominent.

It’s not hot, it doesn’t hurt and it’s not mobile, it’s muscle; just unusual to be pronounced in such a place. If any of these things change it’ll be to my GP forthwith.



I love the smell of c dif (Clostridium difficile) in the morning

They have opened the ward next door again, it’s now accommodating those waiting to be transferred to nursing homes & long term care facilities, bed blockers, those with no family or whose family doesn’t wish to be involved … the overflow. Quite literally! Each patient is reported to be suffering terrible diarrhoea. Within six hours of opening the smell was seeping up the corridor and under the door; that all too familiar bitter odeur.

It’s not really appropriate to place next to a children’s ward, where families are so vulnerable. Our facilities have been cut, and now we are trapped in our little cupboard reluctant to venture out for fear of infection.

The one lone staff toilet (used by three different ward teams) is now out of bounds because it is situated on a corridor and since the opening of the emergency eye clinic all and sundry have been using it. Obviously their ophthalmologic issues cause them to be unable to deposit their waste into the confines of the toilet bowl; getting it on the seat, floor, walls & bin instead (which is odd as they seem unable to get the towels in the bin). With that and all the visitors (carriers) to the ‘slurry’ ward using it also, it’s not a pleasant environment.

"Go on the rock 'n' roll and bang out kids ... why not?"

I witnessed a conversation at work yesterday between a porter and one of the domestic staff, the crux of which was why should he (the porter) bother to work?

"Go on the rock 'n' roll and bang out kids ... why not?"

Four children by two different women ... that he knows of!

It’s obvious that there's no incentive for people to work, especially for minimum wage. That this could even be a realistic option shows how topsy-turvy this Country has become. To me there are many reasons to work beyond financial gain-

For self-respect.

As an example to his childrenFor the good of the community & society.

To occupy time.

The work ethic of this country is going down the shitter.

Sadly unemployment benefit has gone from being seen as a benefit to being seen as a right. For many school leavers it is their aspiration, their siblings are on the dole, their parents, their grand-parents ... they know nothing else and unfortunately want nothing else.

The fortnightly 'wage' is pretty pitiful (£65.00), it's the added benefits- housing, subsidies (utilities, courses, etc) and discounts that make it desirable (Reduced gym membership. Free prescriptions)

All achievable if you can endure the humiliation of a fortnightly interview amongst the scummers, scroungers, sickies and sloths’.

The wage you'd have to bring home to obtain these things is beyond the earning potential of many "seeking"(?) employment and certainly greater than the minimum wage.

There's no incentive, so why can't we provide one? No longer can you stay in bed until noon, lounge around in your pants & smoke weed. Yeah you'll get your benefits, incentives & support, but you’re going to have to work in the community. I'd have a period of grace (3 - 6 months) to get yourself sorted, but after that ...

If the Country is going to support you, you're going to have to support the Country. Essential (maybe monotonous & mundane) jobs that would improve the community, society and benefit people in general. Community action, care .... and from this perhaps a few may discover a new career path?

Look out of your window, be it at work, at home or out & about and think what improvements & good could be done by a few people with the time & inclination. And I suppose that's the problem, these people may have the time, but they certainly don't have the inclination.

"If you want something doing ask a busy person"

I'm turning into the most right-wing leftie imaginable.

Even a professional qualified person who has had a bit of rotten luck admits that there is little incentive to enter work whilst so much help is offered whilst he's unemployed and claiming job seekers allowance.

I have no problem with my tax contributions supporting the needy & vulnerable; it just now seems that the working man & women is more need of help than many of the supposed unemployed.

It’s odd that since moving over here little has happened and few thoughts have been had. I am having what could be described as a blog draught, more accurately a life draught.

“In times of hardship & turmoil and in their darkest hour the cherry blossom stands resilient and will always continue to flower”

Blog on

Is it fortuitous that I chose to move my blog to a new location on April Fools day? All planned really, a new month seemed a sensible place to book-end Live Journal and begin Blog Spot.

So previously ...

www.ship-yards.livejournal.com/

and now

www.ship-yards.blogspot.com