The Last Laugh - Training is Pants!
I popped into the office today with my time sheets for last week. It was a bit of an excuse really to see Charisma as I hadn’t seen her since before Christmas and I wanted to catch up with her about my CPD training and to have a chat about the possibility of other jobs. It turned out to be pants.
She’d promised to help me with my revalidation folder - I know it’s years off but I wanted to make sure I didn’t leave it until the last minute like I do with most of the important things in my life, like paying the rent.
Imagine my face then when she barely glanced up from her pot noodle to chuck me a file across the desk. I grabbed it and flicked through it looking for golden nuggets of knowledge, some carefully curated articles I could write reflective pieces on perhaps. Or the certificates I still hadn’t received from the training I had done, maybe even a list of upcoming training sessions.
Now imagine my face when I realised she’d printed the templates from the NMC website and shoved them into the folder, and that was the sum total of her ‘help’.
I scraped the chair back with such force that she inhaled a noodle through her nose in shock. I threw the folder back on the desk and told her in no uncertain terms what I thought of her help. I then ranted for a full five minutes about where I would like to shove that plastic pot of pasta before she stood up, sucked the noodle back into her mouth (gross) and then spat it directly onto my chin as she bellowed at me.
After a frightening eye-balling stand-off – she won – I slumped into the chair and started to tell her just why I needed to develop my skills.
Last week at Sunshine Nursing Home, CQC had come calling again. What with my med error and the pressure ulcer that we had notified, along with the whole pantomime over the pantomime, they were a bit concerned that all was not well at sunny old Sunshine.
We went through the motions and provided them with all the evidence that would let them know that we were safe, caring, responsive, effective and well-led. Or so I thought. I hadn’t done the joined up thinking though and hadn’t figured out that they would want to see it for themselves so when they started talking about ‘Sophie’ I was stumped. I told them they must have got mixed up – we had a Sheila and a Stella and even a Stephanie but we didn’t have Sophie.
I felt a complete tit when they explained that Sophie was actually SOFI. Short for ‘ Short Observational Framework for Inspection’ which meant that they were going to actually sit and see how things were from the perspective of the residents who couldn’t verbally tell them.
And it was at that point that I realised that I needed more training. I’d done nothing since my nurse training apart from the mandatory stuff and I was hoping that Charisma would help me with this. I’d spent a good half hour stalking the Inspector who was happy to be stalked, as she talked me through what she was looking for that would help to show her that the residents were experiencing well-being. She also told me what the signs of ill-being were and I was a bit shocked when she pointed out Mrs N who sat quietly everyday, never complained, never said no to anything and who seemed to need little or no attention between meals and going to the toilet.
She said that she looked withdrawn, as though she had given up expressing an opinion because she might feel as though she had no purpose in life. She then asked me what I knew about her life and I was ashamed to be able to tell her the sum total of nothing. Not a single solitary detail that didn’t involve what we did for her at the home.
The lovely inspector then told me how important it was to get to know the life story of each person and that it could tell us a lot about how the individual wanted to be supported; she said it would also help to build up relationships and promote a sense of personhood. The memory of the Russian family I wrote about previously came back to me.
I’d also never really noticed the word "personhood" before so like the nosy nurse that I am, I looked it up and found all this amazing stuff about a fab guy called Tom Kitwood and this even more amazing tool called Dementia Care Mapping.
So, I’d gone into the office really to see if Charisma would help me fund the Dementia Care Mapping course. I got to this request as she got to the end of her pot noodle. Good job she’d swallowed it down good and proper as it took a a solid 5 minutes for her to stop laughing like a hyena. It was so bad the window panes started to shake and she turned blue.
Then she went on to tell me in no uncertain terms to get out of the office and not waste her precious time with such ridiculous requests.
I won’t lie, I felt really deflated. How am I supposed to be a better nurse if I don’t learn anything new? We didn't even get around to talking about new jobs, in an employment agency!
I can only liken Charisma’s attitude to the old-fashioned pants that my granny used to wear; loose and comfortable but with no real support. Which convinced me that it probably is time to shed those old knickers and try something new.
Something flexible, yet supportive that holds me up in all the right places… a proper job maybe. Who am I kidding, after the difficult month I've had I can't imagine there will be many takers.
No, I can't think like that. I am just going to have to take these things upon myself. The worst they can do is laugh.
She’d promised to help me with my revalidation folder - I know it’s years off but I wanted to make sure I didn’t leave it until the last minute like I do with most of the important things in my life, like paying the rent.
Imagine my face then when she barely glanced up from her pot noodle to chuck me a file across the desk. I grabbed it and flicked through it looking for golden nuggets of knowledge, some carefully curated articles I could write reflective pieces on perhaps. Or the certificates I still hadn’t received from the training I had done, maybe even a list of upcoming training sessions.
Now imagine my face when I realised she’d printed the templates from the NMC website and shoved them into the folder, and that was the sum total of her ‘help’.
I scraped the chair back with such force that she inhaled a noodle through her nose in shock. I threw the folder back on the desk and told her in no uncertain terms what I thought of her help. I then ranted for a full five minutes about where I would like to shove that plastic pot of pasta before she stood up, sucked the noodle back into her mouth (gross) and then spat it directly onto my chin as she bellowed at me.
After a frightening eye-balling stand-off – she won – I slumped into the chair and started to tell her just why I needed to develop my skills.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqgpzpch0E-X1m8cpd2n58wQ96muEH6cYMy7rBuK1hNb3PvbnJ91CDnA-B-HaU_Wt9mb9nGlgk0kgPgNDSu54i6CmipVlBgbXBfUJl595eO7H68TZeL7BY_vuNMKiCzOBQvDZVb55okNMH/s320/Pot+Noodle+Nose.jpg)
We went through the motions and provided them with all the evidence that would let them know that we were safe, caring, responsive, effective and well-led. Or so I thought. I hadn’t done the joined up thinking though and hadn’t figured out that they would want to see it for themselves so when they started talking about ‘Sophie’ I was stumped. I told them they must have got mixed up – we had a Sheila and a Stella and even a Stephanie but we didn’t have Sophie.
I felt a complete tit when they explained that Sophie was actually SOFI. Short for ‘ Short Observational Framework for Inspection’ which meant that they were going to actually sit and see how things were from the perspective of the residents who couldn’t verbally tell them.
And it was at that point that I realised that I needed more training. I’d done nothing since my nurse training apart from the mandatory stuff and I was hoping that Charisma would help me with this. I’d spent a good half hour stalking the Inspector who was happy to be stalked, as she talked me through what she was looking for that would help to show her that the residents were experiencing well-being. She also told me what the signs of ill-being were and I was a bit shocked when she pointed out Mrs N who sat quietly everyday, never complained, never said no to anything and who seemed to need little or no attention between meals and going to the toilet.
She said that she looked withdrawn, as though she had given up expressing an opinion because she might feel as though she had no purpose in life. She then asked me what I knew about her life and I was ashamed to be able to tell her the sum total of nothing. Not a single solitary detail that didn’t involve what we did for her at the home.
The lovely inspector then told me how important it was to get to know the life story of each person and that it could tell us a lot about how the individual wanted to be supported; she said it would also help to build up relationships and promote a sense of personhood. The memory of the Russian family I wrote about previously came back to me.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3VW5g_Nn4g02GPgdWxVkudCwIC4iqqVk7V9op4pP0sYRKjUfZiKBoXi3bME2a5P4YtRsvs3H198tOlCRpiVCKrYrEXWQT_nAwvOZ6lqHoyVsJKSaHr-eQEZg3Rkttw0Qm8YcQcJO4OxDu/s320/Pot+Noodle.jpg)
So, I’d gone into the office really to see if Charisma would help me fund the Dementia Care Mapping course. I got to this request as she got to the end of her pot noodle. Good job she’d swallowed it down good and proper as it took a a solid 5 minutes for her to stop laughing like a hyena. It was so bad the window panes started to shake and she turned blue.
Then she went on to tell me in no uncertain terms to get out of the office and not waste her precious time with such ridiculous requests.
I won’t lie, I felt really deflated. How am I supposed to be a better nurse if I don’t learn anything new? We didn't even get around to talking about new jobs, in an employment agency!
I can only liken Charisma’s attitude to the old-fashioned pants that my granny used to wear; loose and comfortable but with no real support. Which convinced me that it probably is time to shed those old knickers and try something new.
Something flexible, yet supportive that holds me up in all the right places… a proper job maybe. Who am I kidding, after the difficult month I've had I can't imagine there will be many takers.
No, I can't think like that. I am just going to have to take these things upon myself. The worst they can do is laugh.
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