Where's Mrs Wright's teeth?

I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘N’… Nurse? More like Numpty...

It’s been a painful week.

Painful in every sense of the word. Let’s start with the physical pain element and get that out of the way. I nipped into my favourite bargain shop on the way home from work feeling quite smug and prepared for the cold snap that’s been screamed out of every radio station. It’s clearly time for 100 denier tights and I grabbed a couple of pairs for less than the price of a mega kebab with chilli sauce! Happy days!!

And that was where the happiness ended. Fast forward 12 hours…stumbling round in the dark trying to get ready for work and I am knackered before I even run for the bus, wrestling into these bloody tights. I swear they must have been sized wrongly, as they wouldn’t fit an anorexic scarecrow. I look in the mirror (just to check I’m not severed at the midriff) and see a giant black pudding ring staring back at me – which reminds me that I haven’t got time (or room) for breakfast.

 I get to work and forget about the tights (apart from when I’ve got to go to the loo – the pressure on my bladder is immense). I’ve got my 6 beauties in Eden Bay to look after. It’s been a bit of a baptism of fire having a caseload of my own but I’m starting to get the hang of being in charge of all aspects of their care.

I’ve done ward rounds each day, organised social work reviews, engaged with the physio and OT and generally done my absolute best to make sure that the six patients in those six beds get the best nursing care possible. I’ve admitted new patients and helped them to feel more at ease in the strange hospital environment. I’ve discharged patients to various destinations too and this hasn’t been without some tears either. It’s such a busy environment but I can honestly say that I am loving every minute of it.

Everything was going swimmingly, until mid-afternoon when an unfortunate incident occurred.

Let’s call this ‘Denturegate’ 

I was running a little behind on everything that afternoon as a new patient had been admitted onto my bay at lunchtime. This meant that I needed to do the admission paperwork as well as the lunchtime meds and I had a fairly new support worker assigned who needed a little more direction than the regular staff. That was fine, I’m not moaning- it’s all part and parcel of the job. 

However, I’d also forgotten that I had a lady ready for discharge that afternoon to a care home and only remembered when I spotted her sitting quietly with her little case next to her.
As I went to chase up her discharge meds, I passed the new lady in the next bed; she smiled nervously and I smiled back. I stopped in my tracks when I saw the state of her teeth. And goodness only knows what she thought when I smiled even wider, showing her my teeth like a horse at auction! The idea was to get her to smile wider but it had the opposite effect and she looked positively frightened.

Her teeth looked like mine do after I’ve eaten a particularly good egg butty and haven’t got a toothbrush to hand. I’ve often taken to wiping my teeth with a tissue on those occasions, although I’ve never wiped someone else’s teeth and wasn’t going to start now. I looked at the table next to her, and there it was – the half-eaten, offending egg butty. No wonder she hadn’t eaten it all, the other half was clagged around her teeth.

I went off to find my support worker. She was busy collecting trays and trying to serve drinks as well so I quickly told her that ‘five needed her teeth rinsing’. She looked at me and said ‘Right?’ and I said ‘Yes – right!’ and scuttled off doing my best black pudding impression.

The afternoon passed without event, or so it seemed at the time. Transport arrived for the lady due to be discharged and I went to help her with her bags. She was sitting there looking really anxious and I rushed over to her, ready with my usual platitudes and encouragement.

She had her hand over her mouth as she spoke to me and seemed to be mumbling something incoherent about teeth. All sorts of thoughts went through my head as I imagined us sending her off when she wasn’t medically fit for discharge. She’d been admitted with a severe UTI that had caused her to become delirious, and I was worried that she’d relapsed.

I persuaded her to take her hand from her mouth so I could hear her better, and that’s when I realised that she had no teeth. She went on to tell me that one of the girls had taken her teeth and hadn’t brought them back. She became quite tearful when she said that she couldn’t leave without them and I assured her that I would sort it out for her. As I rushed out, I spotted my new lady. I waved and smiled and an egg butty smiled back at me. What the hell??

I found the support worker just as she was going for her break. I asked her whether she’d seen the patient in bed 3’s dentures as she was waiting to go home. She told me she had taken them and sent them to the lab for repair as I’d requested. I had no idea what she was talking about and we went on to have the most bizarre conversation imaginable.

Turns out my muttered request for ‘Five’s teeth need rinsing’ had been translated into ‘Wright’s teeth need fixing’, so she’d sent Mrs Wright’s teeth to the lab. How she’d persuaded her to part with them was another story and not one I wanted to consider at that point.

Steve (Charge nurse extraordinaire) came over just at the point when my bladder was about to burst out of black pudding. I blurted the tale out to him and he instructed me to get my sorry ass (he didn’t use those words but the tone insinuated this) to the lab immediately before the teeth underwent reconstructive surgery. How I cursed those tights as I flew through the corridors hindered by what could only be described as lycra scaffolding.

It all turned out okay in the end. I wrestled the teeth off the lab technician and gave them a good rinse before returning them to Mrs Wright. I escorted her to the ward door and gave her a hug before turning to the office where Steve had requested I stop by ‘for a little chat’.

We had a very reflective afternoon. We looked at how the mistake was made and how it could be prevented in the future. Looks like I had been getting a bit too cocky and had done what I said I would never do – I had turned my patients into bed numbers. I had always hated it as a student when patients were defined by their bed number or diagnosis and had sworn I would never do it.

I did today – and look where it got me. I had also failed to notice that my support worker was wearing a pair of hearing aids, which might have indicated to anyone a little brighter than me, that I needed to communicate clearly.

It wasn’t a major mistake, in fact, in the big scheme of things it was minimal. But the impact that it had on my patient was massive, and that’s the bit that Steve wanted to drive home the most. As nurses, we should never underestimate the impact of our words and actions, whether they’re positive or negative.

So, another one to take on the chin – good job I’ve got more than one (chin that is). It was a tough lesson to learn but not one I will forget in a hurry! Tomorrow can’t come quick enough!!