Twilights

Oh my giddy aunt – I still have an opendiary!

Funny the things you discover while you’re waiting for the taxi to pick you up from work, surrounded by kidney-less patients and beeping machines.

The last time I wrote this I was not a nurse. I now am. So I suppose there’s a lot to catch up on. Unfortunately, as soon as the taxi comes I am out of this door like a shot. I’ve been at work for 11 hours now, but it feels like forever since I was in my bed. These odd shift times kill me, I feel as though I don’t ever see proper daylight, meals happen at odd times, consisting of microwave chicken and food thieved from the NHS. I’m constantly dehydrated, sore feet, aching back, harrassed, stressed, sometimes snappy. But guess what? I wouldn’t swap it for any other job in the world.

The way in which I talk about nursing in general leads people to believe that I am heartless, careless, and frankly dangerous – and has earned me the nickname ‘Nurse Shipman’ – but really, sincerely, I love my patients. I love my job. I love the ability I have to help people, even though they don’t always (rarely) realise or appreciate it. I’m certainly not as hazardous as I make out, but then when did a story about a procedure going completely safely and normally get a laugh?

I’m not sure why I project this image of myself and my work. To avoid getting too close? So people don’t think I take myself too seriously? Coffin humour? I have that a-plenty.

Hmm.

Hometime, anyway. Will think on this further.