I've always liked cleaning silver
There is something intensely satisfying in the transformation from tarnished to gleaming that pleases me greatly.
Last night I switched off the television and cleaned the silver whilst listening to music.
This little silver plated tankard was given to me in 1989..
It's sat on a shelf in every home Ive had since then
It was gift from the partner of a patient I nursed.
And it was a thank you for a kindness perceived
But it wasn't a kindness.
I'd been party of doing the right thing.
I don't remember the patient's name but I do remember that he had suffered a catastrophic series of strokes at the relatively young age of 60. He had been placed in a side Ward on the busy medical ward I was allocated to and he was dying.
The man's sisters and their husbands were in attendance and it was a night shift, as I recall.
The dying man was gay, a fact that had come to light only to nursing staff during his admission when a closeted older partner had visited unbeknownst to any of the family members.
The nursing staff had managed to negotiate a tricky job of supporting both parties admirably but In the last new hours of the patient's life, his biological family, took over the vigil at the bedside with the " friend" having to take an aseptic role of visiting old friend.
Louise, the senior staff nurse in charge and I hatched a plan that night when the tearful partner turned up at the back corridor of the Ward after being informed his lover was now " being made comfortable" The plan was simple enough. I pretended to find that the patient's catheter was blocked on my rounds and asked the family to leave the room so that I could change it. The proceedure, I told them, would take a little while. Louise marshalled the family and showed them to a " family" room away on another Ward which had suddenly been found free by the conspiratorial senior nurse officer on duty. They were then provided with tea and sandwiches
As the family were escorted out by one of the auxiliary nurses, I ushered the partner into the side room via the nurses office.
All this perhaps sounds a bit larky, but the reality and pain of the situation became only too real to Louise and I when the visitor started to cry as he lay down next to his partner of God- so-many years. It was the first time I had seen a man kiss another man properly and with feeling on the lips, and the fact that both men were " elderly" seem to make the whole moment that much more poignant
The two men were together for over an hour, saying their goodbyes.
I left the Ward soon after and was tracked down by Louise when I was in nursing class a week or so after that. The nursing school was on the top floor of the Sheffield hospital only a floor away from the
Ward I worked on, and Louise was in full uniform when we caught up. She gave me the tankard which had been wrapped carefully in black tissue paper and ribbon and she was tearful.
It was a thank you gift from the partner of the patient who had died later that night . Louise and the conspiring auxiliary nurse had been given similar personal gifts for their roles in the deceit , gifts which she had accepted against hospital policy.
But gifts that were so gratefully given.
There is something intensely satisfying in the transformation from tarnished to gleaming that pleases me greatly.
Last night I switched off the television and cleaned the silver whilst listening to music.
This little silver plated tankard was given to me in 1989..
It's sat on a shelf in every home Ive had since then
It was gift from the partner of a patient I nursed.
And it was a thank you for a kindness perceived
But it wasn't a kindness.
I'd been party of doing the right thing.
I don't remember the patient's name but I do remember that he had suffered a catastrophic series of strokes at the relatively young age of 60. He had been placed in a side Ward on the busy medical ward I was allocated to and he was dying.
The man's sisters and their husbands were in attendance and it was a night shift, as I recall.
The dying man was gay, a fact that had come to light only to nursing staff during his admission when a closeted older partner had visited unbeknownst to any of the family members.
The nursing staff had managed to negotiate a tricky job of supporting both parties admirably but In the last new hours of the patient's life, his biological family, took over the vigil at the bedside with the " friend" having to take an aseptic role of visiting old friend.
Louise, the senior staff nurse in charge and I hatched a plan that night when the tearful partner turned up at the back corridor of the Ward after being informed his lover was now " being made comfortable" The plan was simple enough. I pretended to find that the patient's catheter was blocked on my rounds and asked the family to leave the room so that I could change it. The proceedure, I told them, would take a little while. Louise marshalled the family and showed them to a " family" room away on another Ward which had suddenly been found free by the conspiratorial senior nurse officer on duty. They were then provided with tea and sandwiches
As the family were escorted out by one of the auxiliary nurses, I ushered the partner into the side room via the nurses office.
All this perhaps sounds a bit larky, but the reality and pain of the situation became only too real to Louise and I when the visitor started to cry as he lay down next to his partner of God- so-many years. It was the first time I had seen a man kiss another man properly and with feeling on the lips, and the fact that both men were " elderly" seem to make the whole moment that much more poignant
The two men were together for over an hour, saying their goodbyes.
I left the Ward soon after and was tracked down by Louise when I was in nursing class a week or so after that. The nursing school was on the top floor of the Sheffield hospital only a floor away from the
Ward I worked on, and Louise was in full uniform when we caught up. She gave me the tankard which had been wrapped carefully in black tissue paper and ribbon and she was tearful.
It was a thank you gift from the partner of the patient who had died later that night . Louise and the conspiring auxiliary nurse had been given similar personal gifts for their roles in the deceit , gifts which she had accepted against hospital policy.
But gifts that were so gratefully given.
