My mum is so old fashioned with views that could sink a battle ship. I go to visit her on my day off but I have more battles with her. She kept telling me that I need to settle down and have a husband look after me. She said I should not be working at all. She was blaming me for being outspoken. ‘Women should know when to keep their mouths closed’, she would say. I could feel the annoyance as I sat staring at her perfect little world obscured by society’s realities. Oh, to pull off her rose tinted glasses and put ‘my world’ specs on to her glazed over eyes. I told her that she should be proud of me, for here I am independent and with a view of my own. I pitied her, for I know she was a mere servant to my father and times did not allow her to live. They did what they were told by society and society was telling her how to keep her daughter in line. Socialisation breeds herds of sheep and my own parents trotted along with flock. My mother told me that if I had not been outspoken my first relationship would not have broke down. It was my fault because I must have said too much back and I am not content to be the housewife. I am outspoken, that is me. Thank you mother, you taught me not to be like you. However, I am not yet outspoken enough to deal with the bullies in nursing, I would go to work and do what I was told, like a good little girl. Just because I did not speak out openly did not stop my brain from speaking out. Alarms bells rang in every ward about how wrong the culture of nursing is, except for the few exceptional nurses of course.
I would lie awake every night wondering what I could do to make things right. This night was no exception and I lay in bed dreaming. The big black crow appeared again as it so often did, looking down waiting to swoop. The crow was about justice for all the wrong doings. At first I was looking up but then I became the crow looking down. I am eyes and ears and I see and hear everything but how do I tell everyone what goes on? I have no voice. I watch the breakfasts dished up to the patients, who is ensuring those who are weakest are fed? Heavy duty painkillers and antibiotics, dehydration with little food is enough to floor the strongest let alone the weakest. ‘Come on Mrs Brown you need to eat and I have no time to stand here and feed you because after lunch I need to hand out your tablets, there is only one of me to fifteen patients right now, how do I manage this workload?’ The nurse looked stressed and worn and was doing her best but her best was not good enough, she was understaffed. She would give out the drugs but was so distracted by the millions of jobs in between she would forget to sign for drugs and leave drugs lying around. She heard a moan from the corner of the ward and realised that the patient had soiled herself again. She looked at the distressed patient and it was up the patient’s back. Nobody was around to help her clean the patient up and she was in the middle of the drug round. What could she do, the patient is too heavy to lift alone? Relatives walk in and find their mother covered in faeces. Sister comes out her office to discover the angry relatives. Instead of being understanding Sister blames the nurse. Finally after months of this, the nurse snaps and gets angry, patients and colleagues suffer, so long as the jobs are done, who cares about being nice, being nice has no place in nursing. As for smiling, that is well wiped off the nurse’s face. Who is this nurse? The nurse is the seventy per cent of nurses. To get the job done they learn to bully because they do not want Sister breathing down their neck. Sister is the evil dark blue Troll who lives in the office and only comes out to belittle the nurses. They feed the culture of bullying. They are at the top of the bullying hierarchy. I fear becoming one of that seventy per cent that it haunts me in my sleep. I wake up from the alarm on my phone. I go through my usual routine to get to work. I work beside an angry elderly nurse who bosses me around. Patients get a bed bath at 5am in this ward. I stare up at the cracks in all the paintwork and the tiles in the ceiling are loose. The sinks have seen better days and it is impossible to get near them due to the patients beds. Many nurses in this ward ignore washing their hands just because it is part of the culture. This ward is an exception; it is not like other wards. It is the quintessence of evil wards. I would like this ward condemned along with the heartless mean staff that run it. Run in and save all the patients then cover it up for all eternity in dirt. It holds up to its well known reputation. Nobody wants to work here and there are always vacancies. Everyone knows about their bullying. What does HR do about it? They do nothing, for they know what goes on here but choose to ignore it. One nurse after another leaves and some odd nurses stay to join the ranks of the bullies. The bullies have become one big gigantic ego driven organism feeding off any new staff coming in. Dr Who writers could never dream up such a disgusting nausea filled monster. HR does not have the guts to fight that type of monster and so it eternally lurks in the old part of the hospital waiting to pounce on new recruits. Join nursing if you dare for you may be sent here. I never knew that women could be so hostile and so brash with patients. If I disobey them, I will suffer. How do I escape this ward? I consider giving up nursing for good and quickly go home after work to apply for jobs. Supermarkets are beginning to have some appeal to work in. How did nursing get so bad? Working in Sister Poppins ward was heaven compared to here. How do I get out? I sit in my car staring out at the setting sun which I missed again today, wondering, how people have become such sheep and how they say nothing but follow everyone else. I am no follower but I am alone. I have a long hard road ahead of me and I can see nothing new on the horizon.
"Every Day Is Exactly The Same"
I believe I can see the future
Cause I repeat the same routine
I think I used to have a purpose
But then again
That might have been a dream
I think I used to have a voice
Now I never make a sound
I just do what I've been told
I really don't want them to come around
Oh, no
Every day is exactly the same
Every day is exactly the same
There is no love here and there is no pain
Every day is exactly the same
I can feel their eyes are watching
In case I lose myself again
Sometimes I think I'm happy here
Sometimes, yet I still pretend
I can't remember how this got started
But I can tell you exactly how it will end
I'm writing on a little piece of paper
I'm hoping someday you might find
Well I'll hide it behind something
They won't look behind
I'm still inside here
A little bit comes bleeding through
I wish this could have been any other way
But I just don't know, I don't know what else I can do
Written by NIN
