“My hips don't lie ...”

Too much time spent immobile, feel positively arthritic & locked. Despite one further patient it's no busier tonight and I continue to sit on my arse. Prospects are that unless we have a mad influx of admissions (unusual mid-week in October) it might be even quieter still tomorrow night, with one lone patient.

I am concerned that the itchy area on the inner aspect of my right thigh is not an insect bite as previously thought but is in fact evidence of a swiftly developing pressure sore. It's not exactly easy to keep moving in the middle of the night; with the hospital locked down there's not many places to wander to and I can't venture too far from the ward anyway. A brisk walk up to the accident unit to gaze at the drunks is about as good as it gets i.e. not very good at all.

I took a short walk up to the BP garage yesterday afternoon to pick-up a few papers; it was good to actually move. I haven't downloaded my steps from my pedometer yet this week, but I fear the evidence of inactivity will be shocking?

With the prospect of an even quieter night perhaps I should try something more in-depth than the 20p i and the local rag The Sentinel. I fear even picking up a full complement of broadsheets wouldn't keep me occupied for long. I could get back to my book, but despite really enjoying it, once opened it always appears that I have only ten to fifteen minutes of reading before my eyelids get heavy and I start to drift off.

The lass I'm on with tonight has this habit of informing me on the hour and at every hour how long of the shift we have left. Let me tell you at ten o'clock you really don't want someone saying “Only nine and a quarter hours to go!”