I still ache all over but I suppose I had better do my night shift later. I had a great rest yesterday but I still can’t eat properly. My mum and dad keep phoning me because they have not heard from me. I just do not want to tell them I am unhappy at work because they were so proud of me becoming a nurse. My mum told me she always wanted me to become a nurse. Parents always know when something is not right and I wouldn’t be able to lie to them so avoiding them is easier. Every time I see them they ask how my job is and look at me so proudly. When I became a nurse they gave themselves a big phone bill discussing it with all the relatives. If I inform them just what it is like to work for the NHS I would shatter their illusions. I miss my mum and dad. I pick up my belongings to go to work and walk out into the cold dark night. The stars are already visible and there is a lovely grey moon in the sky. I zip my jacket up tighter as the cold bites in. I jump into my car and put on a cd and I listen to the lyrics of a song called Lanterns and it goes, “and if it all fell through tomorrow put my bag on my back”. This was always my motto when things were so bad just to walk away. In my carefree days gone by I could just walk away but now I couldn’t. I arrive to the ward to find a note with my name on it. Dread fills me once more. The letter was from Sister who always leaves at 4pm, it was now 8pm. I pause and think about what the letter could be about. I slowly tear it open and rip off the bit tape stuck to it. I read the letter several times and Sister said she needed to speak to me about my absence. She wrote that I should have phoned the night before I called in sick. She also wrote that I need to go to another ward tonight. I have not been in this ward and it is way across the other side of the hospital. The building reminds me of a big haunted old building and I am filled with apprehension as I go in to the ward. I walk up to the nurse station and there are a few nurses sat there and also a student. They all turn and look at me. I say that I am here for the night shift. An outspoken nurse turns to me and nudges the nurse sat next to her smiling falsely, saying, “Tell that to someone who gives a shit”. My jaw dropped and landed on the floor and I did not know how to react. I felt like a computer that is given all the wrong programming, it sent me reeling; I became aware of a buzzing noise in my head. I could not walk away I had to stick this out.
Jabba The Hutt With The Voice Of Chewbacca
I am ordered to do certain jobs and the nurses on nights look after all the patients so we do not have teams. I am just ordered about all over the place. A patient I remembered from another ward is sitting looking anxious. I ask her if she is alright. She is very young and shows me a bit paper with her diagnosis she has had today. I am not surprised she was anxious but I try not to appear shocked. She turns to me filled with tears. I stop what I am doing; she turns and curls up on the bed. I put my arm around her and kneel down to her level. I say to her that this is very new information to her and it will take some time to digest. I say that it is alright and very normal to cry and it is all part of the process. She has her boyfriend with her who looks awkward and worried. I tell her that I will be here all night and when I get time we can have a chat. The patient looks up at me with wet blood shot eyes and says, ‘thank you.’ She starts to speak to me but another nurse puts her head in looking angry at me. She shouts ‘there is no time for social chats, the work needs done’. I apologise to the patient and walk out the room. Gradually, all the patients are settled and I go to the nurses’ station beside all the other nurses. One nurse has got knitting out and one is eating while reading magazines. The care assistant sits looking up holidays on the internet; the pictures look like typical holiday resorts, cheap holidays aimed at the working class masses, crammed hotels like high rise tower blocks in housing schemes, sand, sunburn and discos thumping out music which is all fuelled with too much alcohol. I sit down and the nurse who is eating turns to me and says, 'have you finished everything, are you sure?' She asks, ‘can you ensure all the charts are up to date?’ I look at her; she is clinically obese as could be measured by the BMI scale. She sits stuffing chocolate biscuits into her mouth, one by one, practically swallowing them whole. She looks very angry and I do not know why. I have never met her before. She has short messy hair and her age range could be anything from, twenty five to fifty. I instantly get a picture in my head of the character from Star Wars, Jabba the Hutt. The nurse turns to me again and says, ‘well, what are you waiting for?’
Everything Stops For Tea
I walk away looking at them all enjoying themselves. Each time I finished one duty I would go back to the nurses’ station to be given another by Jabba the Hutt. The staff never moved for hours. Each time a buzzer would go they would ask me to get it. I was exhausted looking after all the patients. I was given no credit and if anything was done a different way I would be criticised for it. I attempted to try to find common ground with the staff but I was looked at as if I had just asked them to give me their salaries for their jobs I was doing. I learned that they did not wish to speak to me and that I was a good skivvy while they sat there. When I finally did get my break I was cold and tired. I had no cardigan and the building was cold and draughty. I sat in the staff room with my jacket on as it was even colder. I couldn’t eat, so I tried to cat nap but I couldn’t. I sipped tea, the only comfort I had. I stood up and looked out into the cold night sky. Everything was peaceful apart from me. I felt so alone. I sat thinking about ways out again. Why is it that no matter where I go there are these horrible people, who are supposed to be caring? I go back to work and walk up and down the ward all night caring for patients while they sit there round Jabba the Hutt. My consolation is that if I keep active I will not end up obese. Nurses are great at telling patients how to live healthily but some ignore their own advice.
Is That Egg on Your Chin or Chocolate?
I walk up and down then I hear a whisper, 'can you come here please?' I go over to the door of this room and there is a nurse sat in there. She is very small but has a kind caring face. I had not seen her when I came in. I go over and ask if everything is alright. She says, I have been trying to attract attention but no one bothers. She says she is caring for one patient who is at high risk of falling and she has been there for hours and needs the loo. I look in to see a chair with a little torch still lying on top of the magazine she was reading. I sit and look after her patient while she goes to the loo. I work out that she has sat there for four hours. She comes back and says she is really bored and is finding it hard to stay awake. I offer to swap with her if she wishes. She says, ‘no thanks I would rather sit here than be out there with that lot.’ I ask if she knows them all. She says they are horrible here and all bullies, she says she just works bank shifts. I tell her what I have been doing and that I can’t wait until the morning when I go home. We share jokes with each other to cheer ourselves up. I say that I will come back to speak to her but I had better keep an eye on the patients because no one else was. I go to the nurses’ station to hear Jabba moaning. She is complaining about a job she is bitter about because she doesn’t think she will get it. There are two other candidates going for it who have lots of academic qualifications. She goes on and on and on. I look at her face and notice chocolate above her lip and a bit on her chin. It is 5am and Jabba shouts at me in a moan that sounds like the voice of Chewbacca from Star Wars, ‘give that patient in the side room a bed bath?’ To me this seemed barbaric. So I had a student help me as she was ordered by Jabba. The student was a bit of a worry. It was as though she had learned coping skills by behaving like them, she tried to order me around. I organised the bed bath. We undressed the patient; the patient had severe disabilities and was not in a position to rebel. Her eyes did not look happy. The student said that she forgot the towels, so left the room. I quickly covered the patient’s naked body with her sheets. The student came back in and said in a really arrogant voice, ‘hey what are you doing, I only went to get her towels, why are you covering her up again?’ This is the only time I nearly lost my temper. I turned to her and said, ‘if you were this patient how would you like to be left freezing, naked on a bed, is she not entitled to her dignity?’ The student went quiet and we dealt with her bath. After I had climbed the mountain of work on the ward I left with the bank nurse. We swapped stories on the way to the car park. I bump into her all the time in the hospital. She is one of the gems in the sea of discontent. As I drive the one hour drive home very tired, I put my cd back on and play it loudly to keep me awake. I go to bed dwelling on my night shift but laugh at the thought of Jabba the Hutt with chocolate all over her face.
