One of those rare things

I have a day off. And I spent the majority of it in bed reading Harry Potter (as I still haven't had the chance to finish it yet!).
Later today I'm going to head into the shops and see if I can manage to make £10 get me a week's worth of groceries...

...then I'm back at work again tomorrow for a morning of plastic surgery outpatients.

Friday I have a day booked out with an ECP and am hoping to get some more interesting experience through that.. more after Friday.

New house is still minus the internet, so posts will be desperately sporadic I'm afraid!

It was like a scene from a Benny Hill sketch....

Realistically, if I were a 93 year old gentleman unexpectedly hospitalised into a care of the elderly ward, there are worse things I could do than have 6 nurses trying to chase me back into bed several times in an afternoon.

I suppose I would also probably have the dirtiest laugh imaginable, be bright red in the face and be unable to speak properly from the excitement caused.

You see, as an auxillary nurse this kind of falls within my domain; catching and following escaping patients. I usually don’t mind, except when the 93 year old gentleman in question had had an MI earlier and didn’t realise due to his dementia.

By the end of the 6th attempt at returning him to bed, he was pale and sweaty and the nurses were flushed and panicked.

Thankfully nothing major had happened to him from a cardiac viewpoint, but he did manage to tire himself out enough to sleep during the night. I hope the shift change appreciated our efforts.

To be a failure (part 2)

Ok, so I guess the title is a bit of a lie. There was a part 2, and it is written, but given that it's on the hard drive of my computer, which is in pieces it seems a little difficult to post. Frankly, it also seems a tad pointless. You get the gist. My mother and I were at war, but for the time being we appear to be experiencing peace talks.

It's because I decided to stay in my university area and not return home for the summer vacation. Realistically I had no choice.

Things have been very up and down this year, and due to stress and management issues I will not be continuing working as a halls warden for the university. Instead, I have moved into a house with two wonderful medical students in my year. My rent started immediately and I finished my training to be an auxillary nurse. So in all honesty, it seemed a tad daft to return to Yorkshire, work for £6 an hour at the leisure centre while paying rent on a house down here, and missing out on valuable clinical experience that pays a lot better!

So my mother and I fell out. She's experiencing what I believe is 'empty nest syndrome'. Hopefully, she's starting to come out of it a bit now, and accept that at nearly 24 years old, my home is where I make it, not necessarily where I was born.

Anyway, the shifts at the hospital are going well. I have plenty to blog about, but I have no internet in my new house yet (so apologies, but I have no idea when I will get them written).

I was hijacking next-door's wireless, but I think they may have clocked me....

Thanks for all your support!

Skint Merys

To be a failure (part 1)

I promised I wouldn’t bring this up again, but someone else keeps stirring around in the brown stuff, so I guess I have to.

Apparently when my grandmother was ill, and before she died, I failed her. I was told tonight that I’m selfish and insolent, and I showed my true colours when she was ill. This was all from the same person who refused to let me visit her in hospital because she wasn’t the grandmother I knew. The same person who told me it wasn’t my fault, and that I wasn’t to know how ill she was. The same person who now isn’t speaking to me, and is sat in her bedroom sniffling and blowing her nose.

I’m sorry if I was selfish, and I’m sorry I didn’t go to see her. But I’ve already had this niggling away at the back of my mind since she died. Thank you mum, for your harsh and cutting words.

I love you, but I’m finding it very hard to speak to you right now.

I'm still alive

....just.

I've just finished my last of 4 night shifts on MAU (medical assessment unit) and I'm pooped.

I do however have some interesting stories to tell, and as soon as I can get familiar with my bed again I will blog them.

Also, I've just moved house, so no internet at home yet.

Shit Happens

Well, I was meant to be doing a morning shift (0700 - 1200) on the endocrinology and general medicine ward. However, while doing my magic stuff with a male urinal bottle, the nurse bank office tried to phone me on the ward.

Thinking the worst (CRB showing I was an axe wielding maniac etc) I agreed to call them back when I was less occupied.

Instead the conversation went as follows:

Me: Hello, it's Merys Jones on Ward 12, you called me?
Nurse Bank: Ah hello! We wondered what you were up to this afternoon...
Me: Erm.... not a lot. What did you have in mind?
NB: Don't suppose you want to do an afternoon shift as well on orthopaedic ward 16?
Me: Yeah, what times exactly?
NB: Really? Cool. You finish on 12 at 12 noon, so do you fancy doing a 1230 to 1930?
Me: Aye, OK. It's not like I've got anything better to do!

So hence I ended up in the hospital for 12.5 hours on Thursday. Ironically, they did exactly the same thing to me on Friday.

Therefore, I have managed to do 4 shifts in 2 days, and accrue 22.25 hours of work already.

However, I think the apathy is already setting in with regards to the call bell. It's one of those noises that drives through your skull and makes you want to cry.

3 more shifts starting Monday on a Care of the Elderly ward. I wonder how many times I can wipe bottoms during that....

nerves

It's been over a year since I did a proper shift in a hospital as a HCA. I start again properly in 40 minutes. I'm a tad nervous to say the least, and seem to have lost the ability to type properly (this has taken far too long to write in logical sentences).

Wish me luck

Prioritising

You know, sometimes I think I've got my priorities wrong.
During term time I was doing less than I'm doing in my 'holidays'.

I've decided not to return to Yorkshire for work this Summer, as I've started working for the auxillary nurse bank at the nearest hospital. The money's a bit better, the experience is more relevant and I've got a house to pay rental on.

Realistically, the decision was made for me.

Results are out this week, I've got a thousand and one things to do and not enough time to do it in. Apparently, trying to hold down 3 jobs isn't as easy as it seems.

I've also discovered that my Hepatitis B immunity is low, meaning I have to get another booster. Something which isn't filling me with great enthusiasm. I'm not the biggest lover of needles, and the last needle hurt a lot. I've also had 5 vaccinations of Hep B anyway, so I'm not quite sure what's going on. I have decided that I don't like the Occ Health department though, as they don't seem to quite know what's going on. Which is always fun.

Whoops

On Friday I outed myself. I confessed to two of my closest and dearest friends about this blog. To be honest, they both knew I had a blog, and Caroline reads Tom Reynolds, so I figured it was safest to confess before being found.

So, since they know ‘may’ read the blog, I promised I would write about them.

I had my final OSCE this week, and since the weather was good I met up with Frankie and Caroline in the park.

The exam hadn’t gone too brilliantly, and I don’t think swearing in one of my stations was the best thing I could have done. Why is it that your brain goes to toffee at the most inopportune moments? How many times have I practiced that particular station? How many other people have I gone through it with? Only to go and balls it up on my own! Never mind.

Anyhow, I phoned Frankie to see where she was, and to be told they were having a picnic in the park.

3 large glasses of wine later and I was fast asleep, face down in the sun dribbling on my own arm. I am truly a classy chick. Bless the ladies though, they decided they didn’t want me to get too burnt and covered me up and left me.

We then decided that the children’s park seemed like a plan, and bounced off in the direction of the swings (well, Caroline and Frankie went on the swings, I preferred the slide!).

A slow mooch back to university, a DVD and some chips, and my first year is over (pending passing everything!).

I can’t believe how fast it’s all gone, and I’m in extreme denial about possibly starting the second year.

I just have the small issues of resubmitting coursework and getting my results!

2 OSCEs down

...and 2 passed to date! Results just came out! Just the one more to go.