Sh*t the bed

Feeling a bit bored at work I sat with a blank piece of paper in front of me and waited for inspiration (as I occasionally do, it passes the time) At that exact moment there was a screech and I was beckoned to the bed-side by one of the parents (it’s worth mentioning that this family are from Chinese extraction and speak fairly little English) to discover that their child had laid an enormous turd in his bed (“Naughty Boy. Dirty Boy … in your bed!” Oh you’re in your bed … shuffle away from it then!)

It can’t be said that the gods of the NHS that look on from high don’t have a sense of humour, and must delight in the assorted retching and the gurning of the staff below.

There are very few superstitions in health care, but one is the Q word. It is very rare to hear a nurse say QUIET ‘cause it can unleash hell. Last week two colleagues on secondment to the Accident Unit mentioned how quiet it was mid-way through a long-day; when the end of their shift came they were on their knees & weeping …

“I don’t know what happened???”

I do you said the Q word!

However you may feel, all know that it takes minutes to turn.

Slow, peaceful, bored, chilled, unusual, but never - never quiet.

Some fools will test it, tossing the Q word liberally into every conversation and statement; they almost always regret it as it unleashes holy hell- the Four Horsemen of the Hospocalypse.

Secretions (sick, shit, snot, blood, puss, piss & tears)
Screaming
Stress
Stupidity.

No, on a Sunday I’m quite happy to let the shift pootle along, safe in the knowledge that normal service will resume shortly, and when things go grotty or it’s necessary to do unpleasant tasks do it cheerfully (as appropriate) with a good grace.