Strike Day

In the end we had patients so it was necessary for me to go into the ward, completely appropriate and patient care was not effected. In doing so I had to cross a picket line, but I felt my reasoning was without critism or contradiction.

I wonder what difference it really made?

One day of industrial action will alter little in my opinion, to have an great effect public servants need to strike for longer so that services are truly disrupted. But that would mean undertaking some real hardship and difficulties, few would be willing.

Not the best example, but you get the idea?

I've always felt that my parents show a striking resemblance to the couple in the Fred Basset comic strip (Fred's owners).

Although they haven't had a dog for over eighteen years and never a Basset Hound.

A bit about Fred Basset ...

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

Felt (and continue to feel) strange about the prospect of taking industrial action on the 30^th November. As a nurse it is programmed into us that we just don't strike and I'll admit I'm uncomfortable.

I have polled all staff who are in the Unison union, the majority of which are off on the day in question, only three Unison members are roistered to work. Two Health Care Support Workers and one qualified nurse; yours truly. We have reached the conclusion that we will still work, patient care can not be compromised, but in the event we are without patients (not unlikely at this time of year) we will strike and patient care will not be effected. If we are open then we will work, but leave on time and present at the picket line pre or post shift to show solidarity and raise protest.

They have us over a barrel knowing of our good will.

But protest needs to be made, pensions for public servants need to be preserved. But more that that the powers that be and the government need to be made aware that they can not punish the workers to reward their pals (the bankers and their ilk). It is unreasonable to expect people to work in these high impact jobs until they are virtually seventy, there is no dignity in crawling around on the floor at this age. Let's be honest it appears unlikely that I will reach my three score and ten years, so it is in my best interest to retire early on a reduced pension, but have some quality of retirement even if it's reduced quantity? I also want to ensure adequate provision for EJT both whilst I'm around and also when I'm gone.

Christmas off-duty

The Christmas / New Year off-duty has finally been authorised by the Matron after her sitting on it for approaching a fortnight and consequently published for all to see. So let the back-biting and bitching commence.


After it being the major topic of discussion for a while, I have issued it this morning with minimal fanfare, just quietly put it in the folder to be found and sent all staff an email alerting them to the fact it was there. When the first staff arrived this morning, they swiftly glanced through their shifts trying to not show too much excitement and one asked without irony …

“So when can we put the Christmas tree up?”

“Whenever you (f*cking) want! But can we at least wait until December?”

Do they really think I care or have an opinion about this, whenever it suits, but surely it's not up to me to decide?

Black Friday

An American tradition of a lone one day sale traditionally on the last Friday of November, around Thanksgiving, which seems to have migrated gradually over here.

My interest was pricked initially by it also being a sister event to Record Store Day (although more low-key, perhaps closer to a cousin event?) that has taken place in April over the last three or four years, where a few exclusive releases are available in independent record shops. From viewing the list of proposed releases there isn't much that appeals, but it's still probably worth popping into Music Mania to see just in case. There may also be a few interesting releases floating about at Piccadilly Records in Manchester when we pop up on Saturday?

Traditionally in the States Black Friday brings big reductions in white goods and electrical items especially, so worth having a look to see if I can find a better price for EJT's Christmas present (a piano). Although I think few places will be able to match the behemoth Amazon (£849)

My plan was always to buy it later today, as I've been paid and the majority of Christmas gifts have already been purchased, transferring the money from my saving account to cover this unusual expense. Now that potentially could be a beast to wrap, I don't think there's an option for it to be gift wrapped by Amazon. I hope it will come in a rectangular box which I'll be able to hide covertly in the garage and wrap myself fairly easily. If not it could potentially be a repeat of the episode of wrapping a bike for my Dad, Christmas 2006.

Night Shift

A week of nights almost completed, when I have managed to actually avoid mentioning the fact that I am on nights and how difficult I am finding them. That must be a first; my zero numbered readership must be delighted? Well I have been on nights and they have been as traditionally difficult as they always are. After promising not to write (or moan) about nocturanl shifts this week, tonight has provoked comment 'cause it's just so blooming quiet.

Clearly it's going to remain like this until morning, none of the patients here tonight really need to be in hospital. Tonight we are just overgrown babysitters for a pair of teenagers.

It really is a Black Friday.

When it's like this I have to set boundaries to make the shift cope able- not to read until after midnight, eat at two, do those nightly jobs at four and write in the notes at six. In breaking the shift down it appears to become more manageable. There is little to compare in bleakness to sitting down at ten o'clock at night knowing there are nine and a half hours ahead of you before you can depart home again.

It's been a real dragger, one of the worst for sometime I'd suggest. A symptom of the times to come perhaps? I'm pleased to say that tonight is my last night shift of 2011, I have none roistered for December (the power of office), I dare say I'll have to pick up a few in January , but that's in 2012- a whole year away. Who knows what will have happened by then?

All week the prospect of closing has loomed large as we have gradually discharged all our long-term patients and shorter emergency admissions have continued to dry up as they always do at this time of the year. It could all change very quickly, a bit of good weather (or particularly bad weather) and we maybe full and guaranteed to be open until Christmas.

With the closure of beds throughout the hospital I think our available beds could be worth more than our available staff, which is a first. The need to accommodate patients becomes more valued than our ability to provide support to other areas.

I would like us to remain open until March 2012, with no deviation in activity or occupation to illustrate that there is a constant need for trauma beds throughout the year and ensures the Trust commit to this. I don’t like being moved, it’s unsettling to be taken out of your comfort zones at any time, but it is particularly difficult when on nights. I don’t function as well when I’m on nights, an age thing perhaps? I think I could now legitimately opt out of them, but they continue to serve a purpose; in doing them it promotes teamwork (the more people who do nights, the more it allows the shifts to be slightly diluted so that everyone generally does less nocturnal shifts) and it provides me with time to catch up with paperwork and jobs relatively free from day to day distraction. The disadvantage is that it’s harder to contact people and gain swift answers.

One thing that has been good is that I have slept better in the day, not waking until mid-afternoon as opposed to midday. I was exhausted on Monday, consequently slept well on Tuesday. You wonder if it’s a matter of routine, doing or not doing certain things, that encourages a better period of rest. Each morning I have watched a bit of television propped up until my eyes are heavy, briefly popped to the toilet and then ear plugs in and eye-patch on and to sleep I go. I’ve also made sure that I’ve ate something more substantial during the night to stave off hunger cravings that usually wake me. Whether it’s this or just actual tiredness I’m unsure, but as it appears to have worked I’m not going to over think it!

Committed Coffee Consumer

I have finally reached the long awaited milestone of £20 on my Costa card. Now what???

I'm not exactly sure exactly what I was saving for and it's not really enough to make a grand gesture and cry “Cappuccinos for all!” unless the coffee shop was very quiet … which reduces the appeal somewhat.

Keep saving it is then; £30 here I come. I could of course, perish the thought, spend them (say it quietly) but why would I want to do that?

When I wake the first thing I think about (beyond where am I? Am I meant to be at work? Have I over slept? And similar questions) is coffee, the desire for a cup is frequently the thing that gets me out of bed. I have to accept that I am perhaps a coffee addict.

I don’t need to imbibe numerous cups throughout the day, that first one in the morning is the most important and a few at regular intervals throughout the day dependant on place and activity.

Even when I’m on nights; getting up mid-afternoon my first waking job is to put the machine on and grabbing a cup is almost the last thing I do before leaving the house to drive in. There is always a cup waiting for me when I arrive at work, irrespective of shift. Just as well, especially as when I’m on an early I suffer terrible early morning nausea and couldn’t face anything before leaving the house.

I couldn’t entertain going out in the day and not visiting a coffee shop, it’s as much part of a shopping expedition as shops! Hence my £20 plus Costa card, high monthly spends in Starbucks and the numerous semi-filled loyalty cards that sit in my wallet (I’ve even got one for Pumpkin, the British Rail Coffee shop franchise).

I wish I liked tea; I like the idea of tea, the paraphernalia and the apparent ceremony that goes along with making a brew. I just can’t abide the taste, be it green tea, leaf tea, fruit tea or iced tea. The only tea I can bear is Long Island Iced Tea, which I’m fairly sure has zero tea content.

No I’m a committed coffee consumer. I don’t think it’s even the caffeine, the maximum I’d have in a day is three cups. Anymore and I suffer from coffee intoxication (giddiness, giggles, hyperactivity and overtly euphoric; in short horrible to be with!) and my bladder goes into spasm and tries to vent itself almost instantly. But the idea of giving it up, as suggested because of fertility issues, is potentially abhorrent. But if that’s what it takes I understand it is a very small sacrifice, if one I wouldn’t particularly like.

Beer round here

I'd like to pop into the Greyhound for a pint (and a look), despite it now being off the beaten track for going for a drink. I have many happy memories of there particularly, both before and after V going; quiz nights, basket meals, snowy nights by the open fire, 30^th birthday parties, Sunday lunches and just wandering up for a pint & the company of noise on lonely evenings. Perhaps I should rally the troops and undertake the Penkhull Pub Crawl (The Greyhound, The Marquis of Granby, The Terrace, The Beehive and The White Lion) again for old times sake?

It's the last vaguely happy memory I have of my time with V, we did it on Christmas Eve Eve of 2005(?); I recall bits of the day- grabbing lunch in the Greyhound (always the best for food), the grubbiness of the White Lion, the blandness of the M.O.G, drinking a Christmas cider (Old Rosey Nosey) in the Beehive and witnessing an odd interaction between only to a man and woman. Only to discover they were ex-husband and wife that made us comment on how could you be so estranged whilst living in such close proximity, little did we know or more accurately little did I know.

I think even then she knew she was going to go, just unsure when. Time has led me to the conclusion that she was probably going to opt out of the Gathering, pack-up and leave that week-end, but something forced her hand making her go a few weeks earlier (also I'd of been suspicious). I'm glad, if she'd gone whilst I was in Llandudno that week-end would be forever slightly tainted, as it is now it makes me feel hopeful, brave, supported and optimistic 'cause I went two weeks following.

After her going I tended to go to the M.O.G; the Greyhound was too traditional and claustrophobic for many of my friends (an old man pub they'd say). I never returned to the Beehive, Terrace or the White Lion; and I probably don't think I ever will. But I would like to go to the Greyhound again, it was a fine establishment, pretty much a perfect community pub and the standard all are measured against.

I doubt the Wayfarer will have so much charm and I hope it’s not as potentially sterile as its sister establishment The Swan With Two Necks. No doubt they will follow the hugely successful Swan formula, but I hope they keep a bit of space for it being a traditional pub. If not it will be fabulous for an occasional visit, but I’d like somewhere which is a little closer to a community establishment- decent beers, welcoming atmosphere, perhaps a quiz night.

I’ve always longed for a soap-opera type pub, there was nothing near Parma (good or bad) and the Wayfarer wasn’t quite right prior to its eventual closure pre-refit (mainly it was just too big). They are also doing something to the long abandoned George and Dragon, which closed within a week of us moving into Huckleberry Heights, which maybe promising if the Wayfarer is too gastro and not enough pub?

It was never much cop apparently, a typical rubber and chips establishment, but not quite as plastic as the Darliston Inn which I’m sure only succeeds ‘cause of the child-minding potential of the Wacky Warehouse and the pile it high nature of their food (cheap & plentiful). The Darliston Inn has also very recently been repainted and refurnished, but remains a Wacky and a Big Plate Pub, so holds very little appeal to a middle class, middle income, childless couple.

So potentially two good places in easy walking distance, the Wayfarer has promise, the George & Dragon less so sadly. It could be improved, I’m not demanding much, a few cask ales and an up to date quiz machine. It doesn’t even have to do food; just bar snacks (crisps & nuts). See I could run it.

The Royal Exchange is always excellent, but always rammed and a bit far-off for a pop in (the same can be said of The Swan by the canal) we want somewhere equally good, close to home, that not too scuzzy but neither is it too refined.

I don’t see what has happened that has suddenly meant that there is demand for five pubs within a mile of the house, perhaps there’s more? The Stone Steakhouse maybe within that mile border, and I haven’t explored Walton heading off towards Eccleshaw. It could be realistically closer to ten (20 – 30 in a few miles) and it’s not exactly a densely populated area. I guess they are all focusing on very different clientèle’s, let’s hope there’s one that suits us?

Goodbye Penkhull

Due to the close proximity of Penkhull to the hospital I sometimes stop in the centre to visit the Co-op or use the postbox pre and post shifts. Little has really changed, it remains very similar to how it was when I first moved there in 1994. I would suggest that it is one of the most unchanged areas of the Potteries. The centre around the village green is almost identical; most businesses have probably been taken over (the sandwich shop, off-licence, beauty salon, The Greyhound pub), but to all intense purposes appear the same. Even the scary chip mascot remains in the window of the Fish & Chip shop, owned by the same family that always have done (since at least the early nineties)

Every so often I deviate from my route for a sense of nostalgia and drive past Todd Terraces (Wadham Street) or through the back streets just to see. Todd Terraces doesn't look any different from the front, only a newly double glazed door. I haven't as yet parked-up to wander down the alley at the back to view any alterations there, but it's only a matter of time. Do the trees remain, have they done anything with the outhouse, have they painted? As it was sold for rental I assume there has been very little change.

When the Royal Infirmary hospital eventually closes and we move down to the City site I will finally bid farewell to Penkhull and will have little cause to pass through.

Be Polite

Politeness

It's hard not to feel sometimes that politeness and courtesy is an outdated concept. Just doing the right thing, holding doors, driving with consideration and the like don't even elicit a pleasant response. Often more as case of F*ck You over Thank You.

I'm most bothered by pedestrian policies and politeness, there just seems like there is no consideration ... probably 'cause there is none?

When I was younger there was almost a hierarchy of age, respect and fear; if someone was older, had a disability or was scarier than you was walking towards you, you moved (YOU got out of the way)

I'm sick of being stared out by young lads; acting all gangster, swinging like a gibbon, sucking their teeth, talking in patwa or street-slang, trousers slung low, hands down the front of their pants.

“Look mate you're from Britain not the Bronx!”

I've made a conscious decision to stop moving out of their way, be more measured in my politeness. It's amazing how many will collide, bounce-off and look aghast that someone dares to disrespect them. I have discovered that it is rather difficult to appear hard mid-flight. An insincere “Oooooh mate, I am sorry! Are you alright?” tends to defuse any aggression (that and being significantly bigger than they are)

Maybe one day one will pull a knife or shoot me, then I'll become a martyr to my politeness cause. But I'm not going to stop being polite, irrespective of the response I receive, it has nothing to do with them and absolutely everything to do with me. Why should I stoop to they're level?

Hateful fool

BT it

BT engineer arrived at 11.26am, pretty much mid-way between the 8am and 1.30pm window I was given, so it could have been worse … equally it could have been better! Despite the impression the above illustration gives, I was actually very impressed by the service we received. Problem dealt with swiftly & efficently, resolved and not our fault so no charge.

Window of waiting

Wasting my morning waiting for a British Telecom engineer to arrive. We've had on going problems with our phone for the last couple of months, we can call out but we can't receive any calls in. Quite frustrating as it rings once and then goes dead, the person calling doesn't hear that lone solitary ring, just a dead line. I have contacted BT a number of times and have followed their guidance- unplug this, unscrew that, now try this. All with no result . Consequently we have an engineer coming out.

BT report that there is no problem with our line, but when they call us to share this information they are unable to get through!?! God bless 'em.

What else would I being doing this morning anyway I hear you ask? Bum around in coffee shops and generally waste time it is true, but it is my time to waste and I hate being trapped by the window of waiting. BT could only offer two slots for someone to attend, morning or afternoon. Obviously morning is preferable as it gets it out of the way and leaves the remainder of the day free …

“They'll be with you between eight and half-one”

So here I sit a little way into my five and a half hour window of waiting. The house is looking pretty together, there's a load of washing in the machine, I've order a few Christmas gifts from Amazon and now I'm thinking “What now?”

It is obvious that he (or it could be a she, reluctant to indulge in gender stereotypes) won't present until lunchtime, and in my eyes any time after lunchtime (mid-day) could be viewed as the afternoon.

UnHurt

What's so offensive about this image?

A doctored photo of Pope Benedict XVI showing him kissing Muslim cleric Mohammed Ahmed al-Tayeb (the Grand Sheikh of al-Azhar mosque in Cairo), taken from a series of posters titled “Unhate”. Used as part of an advertisng campaign for clothing company Benetton which show World leaders kissing their apparent foes- Merkel & Sarkozy. Obama & Chavez. Kim Jong il (Democratic People's Republic of Korea, the North) & Lee Myung-bak (South Korea).

Whilst it appears typical of Bennetton to try and generate publicity by controversy, it's in fact the company's first major advertising push for more than a decade, which has revived its tradition of using shock tactics to sell knitwear and coloured denim.

The Benedict poster briefly appeared in various locations around Italy before being hastily withdrawn after the Vatican's outcry. The Vatican has subsiquently taken legal action to prevent further distribution or publication of the image. It was the second blow (or boost depending on your perspective) to the company, which had to scrap a poster that showed Silvo Berlusconi kissing Angela Merkel after the controversial Italian leader (and sleaze-master) resigned earlier this week.

http://unhate.benetton.com/

For the love of Cliff

The radio station Absolute 60's have decided that it is not going to play any songs by Cliff Richard as it doesn't suit their listener demographic (i.e. he's not cool) Cool is a difficult thing to measure, one man’s cool is another man’s steaming pile of dog turd. Does cool equal good?

It is also difficult to group anything together as good by merely a decade, but I would suggest that most people who love music from the 1960's would have a soft spot for the Bachelor Boy. I'm not demanding wall to wall playing of “Living Doll”, in the same way the constant broadcast of any artist would rapidly become tiresome (but no doubt they'll play a Beatles track every half-hour). To omit such an important artist seems foolish; show some respect for his influence and longevity as an artist.

It's worth remembering that in terms of British music; no Cliff, no no one. All those trail blazing British artists of the sixties from The Beatles to the Rolling Stones via The Who and The Kinks quote Cliff Richard and the Shadows (especially) as hugely influential. If we remove those four pillars of Great British pop-rock then not only is there no British music then there's little else worldwide. Consequently who knows what music would be like today without Cliff and his influence. I would argue that irrespective of age everyone loves at least one Cliff song?

I'm sure Cliff sunning himself on his Caribbean island couldn't give a flying toss? But I hate these public declarations of an introduction of musical sanction against an artist, just like Radio 1 with Status Quo in the Brit-pop heyday. If a band or artist no longer fit your stations musical brief, just don't play 'em, quietly remove them from the play lists, but don't make such a fuss. There is no need to stand there and say “We WILL NOT play records by Cliff Richard” when nobody had noticed that you weren't playing them in the first place. Does Absolute 80's also make a stand saying “We WILL NOT play records by Shaking Stephens!”?

It's just an example of publicity generation by a radio station no one was really aware of in the first place*.

I have always felt that commercial radio is in the main the sanctuary of imbeciles, both in presenters and listeners (but especially presenters). Would I have listened, irrespective of their anti-Cliff stance, no. Because I don't desire a station with such a narrow brief and the presenters are probably all dicks!

* Further investigation reveals that the station doesn't launch until the 22^nd November, so as thought just an attempt to generate some publicity.

Attention all obsessive-compulsives

 Swiss artist, comedian and cabaret artist Ursus Wehrli's (http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ursus_Wehrli) work really appeals to my OCD tendancies. First in his project 'Ursus Wehrli Tides Up Art' and in his recent project 'The Art of Clean Up' where he takes everyday objects (cars, people, found items), meticulously decontructs them and places them into a near-perfect state. Breaking things down, sorting things out, establishing order from chaos and the desire to obtain accurate numbers.

I am aware that I strive for order more when I am stressed or frustrated, to obtain a little bit of control where there is none. Perhaps this is why his work has grabbed my attention.

http://www.zillamag.com/art/the-art-of-clean-up-by-ursus-wehrli/

Gobby Cow

Gobby made a mistake, got herself into trouble, made a bit of an error. Had to turn to useless - hopeless me to help her sort it out. A bit of poetic justice.

What she did was probably right, it was just the way she went about it that was all wrong. Which in my eyes pretty much sums her up. She acts before she thinks and speaks before she thinks. She continues high-lighting that whilst she maybe good clinically (and there is no way this can be questioned), she's not a team player and is in short a horrible colleague. Not just in front of the ward team, but also in front of Consultants and Senior Trust Managers. Way to draw attention to yourself (in a negative sense) at such a torrid time for senior nurses.

I've never warmed to her; for a few years she was a face on another ward, then a name talked when she my moved briefly to Turkey. My first memorable encounter was when she joined us on a hospital night out years ago, a big group of us were having a meal at a local Indian restaurant, she and a friend latched on and joined our table. Subsequently consuming a few bottles of wine and absconded without paying their share of the bill (leaving the rest of us to pick-up the outstanding tab). The next time I came across her smashed out of her box tit-wanking a champagne bottle (probably not champagne, something fizzy). Classy bird.

Admittedly this was a fair while ago, but those first impressions tend to linger. Even caring for her child who was very poorly when I was working on the Children's High Dependency Unit, I  didn't really like her (never mind trust) and found her quite false.

Back tomorrow ...

Long-day tomorrow, can't say I'm looking forward to it at all. I hope I'm not on with gobby, still not up to polite interaction. How much good would it do if I really lost my temper and told her how I felt about both her and her behaviour (recent behaviour especially)? I don't think anyone would benefit. I don't even know if she is on over the week-end. I'm feeling pretty weary at moment post-nights and deflated at the prospect of returning.

It would be beneficial to have a pleasant & stree free Saturday, free from issue with friendly staff which would  surely bolster my confidence significantly.

One week in would seem a good time to start introducing a few changes and improvements. In truth there is very little I would change or do differently, the only thing would be to try and introduce a bit of transparency. Bring the kalamazoos out of a locked draw and put the time owing folder on the ward in full few. Obviously first of all I need all staff to agree how much time they actually owe or are owed (more unlikely) Understandably everyone is more interested in the amount that they are owed, rather than what they owe the ward (I can appreciate that)

Jaffa Delay

We are struggling to make an appointment with our GP to discuss the results of our fertility testing. With his holidays, limited availability, client & clinic commitment and my annoying shift patten (there is no patten) & EJT need to attend  any appointments outside of school hours it's proving to be a bit tricky.

All to discover that I'm a Jaffa. Way to be positive and optomystic Toddy. When told it's more than likely that I'll just shrug, turn around and return home muttering something like “I expected as much!”

If it is the case I hope I just accept it bravely and with fortitude and don't go into a tail-spin of dispair & depression. I don't think it would change anything for EJT, it certainly wouldn't for me if in the unlikely case she has problems. Either way at least we'll know. I can't promise to not be a little resentful or hurt, I think that would only be normal? But with the knowledge we'd be able to review our lives, consider what we want and maybe hop-off the hampster wheel that is life in 2011.

That is of course if we can even get an appointment, any longer and I may just ask them to announce our results on Midlands Today or after the nightly National Lottery draw. Then at least it's all out in the open.

Tomacco Road

Awoke with a terrible taste in my mouth, recalling a vivid dream where I ran my tongue down a cigarette. Awake I could actually taste the tobacco and damp paper, vile. It made me remember an episode of The Simpsons where they grow a hybrid plant of tobacco and tomato- Tomacco. It's been repeated a fair bit, but even on the first watch it made me feel sick; the idea of biting into a fresh & juicy tomato only to discover the inside was filled with tobacco leafs. I'm so not a natural smoker, whilst the fresh smell appeals, the taste, texture and toxicity (not forgetting the stale smell) make me feel so ill.

Shit List

Nigel Farage

(Leader of UKIP & right-wing oaf)

Positive

There must be something positive to focus on, there must be???

Big mouth strikes again ...

So the meeting ...
Rather than an opportunity for open discussion and the passing of information, it rapidly took a swerve in direction. Dominated by one utter gob-shite who loves the sound of her own voice and speaking for the team, even if the team don't want to be spoken for. She began with a character assassination of JK; so innapropriate after all she has done and how hard she has worked for the families of North Staffordshire and the NHS. Then moved onto me ...

It is comforting to know that after two mere days in post since taking over I have made so many monumental ball up's, and have really been given adequate time to find my feet.

As  it feels I've said many times before; it's alright for her, she works two days a week and it appears that to her the ward is merely a hobby, an activity that gets her out of the house and away from her difficult home life. No demands are ever made of her being in a senior clinical post; she takes on no commitments or responsibilities beyond actual care on two shifts- no paperwork, no administration, no audits, no teaching. No nothing!

Yet she still feels in the position to criticise, criticise anybody without thought or self-censorship. Sadly she is of the mind that I perform in no greater way than her or any of the team and I'm probably not capable of running the ward because I haven't been given the opportunity predominantly 'cause of JK's previous need for control.  Whilst no doubt there was an element of truth in this once upon a time, it's clearly an out of date concept more recently. I have always done the unglamourous tasks, the things that generate little credit. If I stopped doing my little jobs now they'ed soon know it- no shifts, no training, no support, no information. No pay!

Clinically I respect her and her knowledge, in every other sense she is a horrible hag.  Unprofessional. A poor colleague. Overtly critical. Inflated sense of her own importance. Rude. Ignorant. Selfish.

She has made a (not at all) powerful enemy in me today and I will do everything in my power to clip her wings it's much - much too Machiavellian to say ...

I'll destroy Her!

Perhaps because I was tired, I hadn't really settled or slept on returning home aware that I had to return later that day; I didn't defend either JK or myself as I should of done. I was shocked, embarrassed and hurt.On reflection perhaps I should have never attended and stayed in bed; allowed them the opportunity to vent, criticise me fully and speak their mind, all out of ear shot. If I'd stayed at home, I'd be oblivious to all this and wouldn't feel so wretched tonight.

All would have been infinitely preferable to me. But I went and sat there as my character was semi-assasinated, once it began it took all my strength to not get-up, make a swift exit and lead with the parting comment of ...

“F*ck you all!”

But I sat there feeling numb. I didn't expect anyone to jump to my defence, maybe everyone does feel the same, but even so I could feel that others were uncomfortable. Once the meeting concluded I departed very quickly, in no mind to hang around. Anxious about the meeting I didn't sleep well this morning when I returned home, it was the sense of not knowing what was to come that unnerved me. Returning home I was enraged and charged up, honestly who could sleep after such an event. Consequently tonight I'm absolutely bolloxed.

I think most knew I was hurt, arriving that evening there was a terrible air of tension. Whilst I was loathed to drag up the earlier events or in fact let those emotions come to the surface, I made no secret of the fact that I felt quite betrayed. No doubt this will get back to her, and I intend to confront her about her behaviour soon, knowing she'll no doubt be oblivious to any offence or upset caused.

I am loathed to use such ungentlemanly language, but ...

Stupid bitch

A point to remembering ...

I never wanted the job, I have never harked for a management position. I came to the ward initially as a Senior staff nurse, a role that morphed into deputy ward manager without any consultation. I was requested to come because no one on the ward presently was deemed appropriate or adequately skilled. And no based at the City was willing to come, I was the only person to step-up and I frequently regret it.

Saying all of that this is my opportunity to have a go; five months to experience ward management, safe in the knowledge that it won't be continuing and it will be a long way off before any chance of promotion occurs again.

Just when I think I'm making progress and the apprehension dilutes ever so slightly, something like this happens and my guard is back-up and I'm as anxious as ever. It just goes to show that I can never become too complacent, I need to be aware that at any moment it can all turn to shit.

Hello Ward (... again)

Goodbye Ward

Hello Ward

Goodbye Ward

Endurance

If anything tonight is quiter still.

I've reviewed today's emails; little to be actioned or replied to. Scrutenised the mid-December to mid-January off-duty, which is vaguely covered, but not great.

Later today brings the meeting with divisional manager and modern matron, so any plans that I do make could be nul & void in around fourteen hours time. Best to sit tight until that's out of the way, and begin to address any suggestions arising when I return later.

I assume the meeting is still taking place, I've received no notifications to say otherwise. I think I may lose it if I set my alarm for 1.15pm, shower & get dressed and travel in only to find it's been cancelled. Although it's more than likely that I'll just shrug, turn around and return home muttering something like “I expected as much!”

Day One

Obviously my anxiety was unfounded (at this point), despite having to plough through numerous emails, there was very little that gave me palpitations. I actioned what I could, tried to digest & ingest as much information as possible and deleted a fair bit straight away.

I had to ask “Is it necessary to send me all this pap?” Because an awful lot seemed to be sent for the hell of it and with little purpose beyond passing the buck. Am I really the right person to pass the buck to, I have too much vying for my attention as it is.

It really was wise to return on nights, certainly it allowed me to review things without being distracted by all the daytime matters. Less interuption, less distractions.

Day one as a Ward Manager- just about holding it together.

Steady

I am unable to find a rational explanation as to why I'm so nervous at the prospect of returning to work tonight; beyond my perception of the waiting workload and demands about to be made. It's probably best to return on a run of nights (as opposed to days shifts), as it will allow me to work through the emails that have amassed over the last week in my absence. I won't be overly distracted, once those immediate jobs are completed I can sit down in front of the computer and begin in the process of wadding through.

I just hope it isn't too much? I am aware that by Wednesday it maybe a case of "All change", but then it could equally be a case of "Continue as you are!" Steady the tiller and keep going until March.

I Very Much Like ...

A Very She & Him Christmas

Steps into the unknown ...

So Monday arrives and with it brings a huge step into the unknown. I'm still unsure what is expected of me; I guess it will be clarified on Tuesday 7^thNovember at the ward team meeting to discuss “Issues Surrounding JK's Retirement” … only I feel I am unable to attend, as are the majority of my colleagues.

Being such a small team it is unreasonable to expect everyone to travel in when they are on annual leave, days off, live fairly far away from the hospital or have to alter plans to attend a meeting outside of their working hours without providing an incentive or a better explanation than simply “Issues ...” It is also unreasonable to expect people who are in the middle of a run of nights, both dates suggested were mid-way through my run.

It sets a president if I do go in and already it illustrates the conflict that will exist between managing the ward and working clinical shifts. If they were willing to find someone to pick-up my run I'd gladly come in, but considering they are unable to locate a member of staff to work a lone afternoon shift on a Saturday during November it seems almost impossible.

Let's not even consider the issues surrounding cover in December. The only reason we can cover Christmas and New Year week is because annual leave is forbidden apart from the occasional day granted nearer to the event. They need to provide back-fill f staff yet I think it is more likely that this meeting (the meeting I am not attending) will confirm our closure.

And that would be fine.

I'm trying to complete the off-duty into the new year, but I'm struggling to balance management time with shift commitments, surely I can't be in the office if we are unable to cover the clinical shifts adequately?

This appears to be becoming a bigger issue, if I am the manager then I should work management hours, but they appear to wish me to both continue to work clinical shifts and pick up the management responsibilities within them. As example next week I am meant to be on a run of nights which would be fine as I could do management type stuff when it's quiet, it may even be better? But I am also expected to come in for a meeting on Monday morning, Tuesday afternoon, Thursday morning and Thursday afternoon; in short they are asking too much. This is what we're negotiating at the moment, it sees they have taken a while to see my point, but hopefully now …

We've had a few grotty weeks and feel we are just about coming out the other side. I have reached the conclusion that the next 5 months are going to be pretty brutal. The demands now being made of me are pretty extreme and I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to cope. In many ways I have been sold a pup.

My CV eventually went in, whilst I gave decent lip service to being peaceful, when it came to justifying myself I found it rather difficult and it brought may conflicting emotions to the fore. I have reached the conclusion that what will be will be, but I am in the perilous position of not having a job in March, finding that out soon (mid-November), but still being expected to manage the ward until then. To resign, step-down or find another job would invalidate any offer of redundancy or protected pay should I be de-banded. In short they have got me over a barrel.

We both feel we can't remain on the hamster wheel indefinitely, school is bashing the stuffing out of EJT each day and we are concerned for both our health & well being.

So with tests, CV's, hospital demands and changes in job role it's been a difficult month. I was acutely aware that I was hiding away, but everything was getting on top of me and I think I retreated. I know this isn't a valid solution to problems, but I was so distracted it's only now looking back that I realise how remote I had possibly been.

Shit List

Oh dear John Lewis, oh dear oh dear.

Love the store and their (apparent) ethos, but their current Christmas advert and their use of a re-recorded version of The Smiths "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get what I Want" has gained them an entry on my stit
list. Surely "You Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby" would be more appropriate?

Risk of whisk

All evening following I had a real pain in my elbow and wrist, especially on rotation, clearly I have developed a serious case of wankers wrist. Please don't anyone ask me to whisk anything until the week-end.

HCD Wednesday

Why am I always so direction-less on a Wednesday; is it purely coincidental that it coincides with HCD (Hide from the Cleaner Day)? So I move from Reubens where I sat for approaching an hour, to Costa where I will attempt to hide myself for hopefully about the same?

I shouldn't be wishing my hours, days or time away; time is precious I shouldn't waste it … … … only I'm at a loss as to exactly what I could be doing whilst remaining out. I am equally at a loss as to what I'm going to do later when I'm in.

Life is hard. It's probably important to spend some time just chilling and getting some perspective, which is where you find me now; chilling and gaining perspective.

 Whilst I do rapidly tire of my own company, being off alone is infinitely preferable to being at work. I'm glad that I've avoided having to go to the ward much beyond Tuesday morning and Friday afternoon for JK's retirement tea-part.

I was meant to be off all week but found myself with the prospect of it being necessary to go to the ward to spend time with JK before she finally finishes at the end of the week. Despite my best efforts the essential hand-over of jobs hasn't really happened; there is suppose to be a period when you work in tandem to ensure information and working techniques are passed on. But because of the sheer volume of patient workload and the general shortage of staff when I have been at work they have been unable to release me. On the rare occasions were we have been rostered together she has been reluctant to share, I think her retirement has brought so many conflicting emotions to the surface that as she progresses to the end she just wanted to spend time on the ward, not locked in a tiny cupboard office with yours truly.

There was a block of time appointed, but because she had out standing annual leave and time owing remaining she is to leave before then. She went on a three week cruise, returning to work on Monday, just as I started my block of pre-winter beds holiday. Obviously I saw a fault in all this, hence going into the ward this week to try and gain all the necessary information and wade through mountains of out of date documents. Deep joy.

Thankfully as much as possible was achieved in a long morning and I'm not going to have to spend as much time on the ward as previously thought. I feel I have gleaned as much information as I can and any further sorting can be undertaken when I return next week. Saying that I've still got to go in on Friday for the little party that I've arranged for JK, I'm sure she doesn't want a fuss but after over forty years in the health service it nees to be marked. I think all the marking she could possibly cope with is a party one afternoon?

Autumn, weather, heating & slipping.

The clocks go back and the dark nights descend as the first of November arrives, and with November arrival I grant permission to put the heating on (Hark at me, Lord of the Manor). Odd that as the weather gets colder I find myself wearing less clothes at home.

It is quite obvious that women have a different internal thermostat to men. For every year of my adult life that I have shared a house with a woman I find myself a sweating mass in my underpants wiping condensation from the windows. Melting; pleading to be rescued from the stifling heat.

Despite a mild October, Autumn has now certainly arrived and with it the leafs fall, the ground becomes moist and the risk of slipping returns. Soon the frost will begin, followed by the snow and walking becomes perilous.

I'm not sure originally where or when this anxiety about slipping & falling originates, like everyone I've had a couple of spectacular episodes and near misses, but none that could justify the anxiety that I suffer from.

Perhaps because I'm not exactly feather-weight I can feel the pressure I exert upon the earth pushing down, as if gravity somehow is greater on me. I often feel the strain on my trunk, through my legs and down onto the soles of my shoes, that this descending weight will simply force my feet to slide from under me. Sounds pretty loopy when you say it out loud (write it down) doesn't it?

I should start the search for a pair of incredibly sturdy and non-slip shoes to support me through the forthcoming five months. I am legitimately considering snow chains or strapping tennis rackets to my feet, but both would be lethal to drive in.