Little Donkey

I think the honeymoon period with this nursing agency is over.

If I was a paranoid person I would think that the ever charming Charisma had contacted the Manager at Sunshine and said something like ‘that Florence is far too fat, I’ve still got her size 10 uniform here that she has failed to get into, so work her like a donkey… because she certainly looks like one’.

As always, I’m sitting on this damn bus and I would kick my shoes off for a bit of relief but I’m not sure that I’d get them back on. Can haggis get pregnant? If they can then that’s my feet. I’d best not kick them off anyway…the smell would paralyse the driver and I’m just not up to driving a bus home tonight.

I arrived at Sunshine this morning and all I can say is, thank God for Rita. And thank God we have been working a lot better together lately after our little talk.

The Manager told me that she had to go out that morning to assess a few patients so I would have to attend the weekly MDT meeting. Not a problem I thought, most of these meetings were relatively routine.

What a mistake that was! The world and his wife turned up to this meeting! That should have given me a clue that all was not well, but me and my naivety waltzed on in and expected to fill in what I didn’t know, by using the patients notes.

I won’t lie, about ten minutes into this MDT meeting I was grateful for my numerous chins to take it all on; the Manager had stitched me up good and proper. She’d promised last week to do a load of things for the residents and she had done absolutely cock all.

We were supposed to be monitoring the analgesia for Mrs G because it needed to be titrated and a swab should have been sent for Mr H’s chronic leg ulcer. Three residents had developed grade two pressure sores since my last shift in and add to that the sheer lack of daily blood pressure readings for patients who had been newly prescribed Beta Blockers, zero fluid balance charts and the invisible BM readings (despite apparently all insulin injections having been given and signed for), and this donkey was in for a severe pasting.

After trying (for all of 3 seconds) to blag it with the team of GPs, diabetic nurses, what seemed like the region's entire mental health team and a dietician who clearly should have been taking her own advice, I had to admit that I was the agency nurse here and could only report on what had been handed over; and yes none of these actions had been completed, but I assured them that they would be done for next week.

I was the first out of that room, legged it into the office and called Charisma. I told her she just had to book me in for at least 4 shifts this week or this donkey would be dog meat. I may only be an agency nurse here, but someone has to take charge and make sure care is getting delivered properly.

At that point, the Manager returned; wherever she had been to assess this mystical

‘patient’, it had certainly had an effect on her hair…it was now blond and curly. I felt like hitting her over the head with my meeting notes and calling the CQC in front of her!

As if that wasn’t enough, I left the office and walked into the lounge and straight into World War 3.

Mrs G’s daughter was screaming at Mr H’s son, accusing Mr H of wearing Mrs G’s nightie. Poor Rita was trying to calm it all down but when I went to intervene she shook her head at me and continued to hone her skills as a referee. It transpired later that it was Mr V who was wearing Mrs G’s nightie – he’d mistaken it for his burgundy dressing gown.

I backed off and sloped into the peace of the office. Rita had left me a brew and a piece of chocolate cake, so I recharged the old batteries and went back into battle. I groaned out loud when I realised the monthly audits were due that day; and little old me had to do them. I just couldn’t face it on my own so I did something quite naughty and got the girls involved. I got Rita to get the resident and relative feedback for the month (I had to censor it a bit for all the swearing). Pregnant Paula did the infection control audit and Suzie Sloth did a good - if very slow - dining audit. I did the care plans, home governance and HR ones before losing it slightly and chucking the hairdressing salon audit onto the Manager’s desk – I think she got the message!

In return, as soon as all of that was done I rushed around with the girls and we managed between us to make sure every residents pads had been checked, the turns were done (and fully documented) and Mrs G even got an extra cup of tea and a biscuit. As did Mr V when he saw what we did and wanted one too. At least he wasn’t wearing her nightie this time!

Because we worked as a team, we were still able to spend extra time with the residents on top of all that. The girls felt great because I’d trusted them to do some of the audits and I felt that we’d really bonded as a team. I’m not there tomorrow but Rita said she will make sure that the MDT actions are completed; she told me she always wanted to be a nurse but her mum told her she was too thick and she’d be better getting pregnant and getting herself a council house. Shame really, she’d have made a cracking nurse.

Lesson for today? Look for support in unexpected places.

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