I’ve got up early today and after a tepid bath ( the log burner wasn’t on long enough to heat the water properly) I walked the dogs , had my weight watcher’s breakfast of eggs on dry toast and am just about to drive to Sheffield after I finish my bucket of coffee.
I’ve just bought a twenty quid ticket for Come From Away when I’m next in London, there are bargains galore to be had if you look….
The cottage is tidy for dog sitter Ruth’s arrival Ive changed sheets, cut flowers for every room including the living room bookcase and her treats are in the fridge all ready, but all I can really think of is the thrill of meeting up with old friends after so long.
Flowers on the bookcase
It’s a lovely day today,
I feel brighter after my night shifts
Off in Bluebell now, heading East over the Pennines
The one thing about working night shift as a nurse, is that on one deep dark moment in the wee small hours, you and your colleagues WILL succumb to what is colloquial known as NNH ( Night Nurse Hysterics)
Now, obviously this depends on who you are working with, but if you are lucky enough to work alongside like minded characters, all it will take is a look or a word and giggles worthy of a gaggle of oestrogen filled schoolgirls on heat will ensue.
This morning , all it took was support worker Cat making me the worst cup of tea this side of the Welsh border and me asking “What the fuck is that? for all three night staff to be reduced to childish giggles.
It’s not rocket science that stress and tiredness finds an outlet in silly humour and banter.
I remember one particularly stressful night on intensive care where seven out of a full compliment of eight patients were sedated, ventilated and incredibly poorly.
I just happened to be looking after the only awake patient who had just been woken up from his induced coma, and throughout the night he had watched, wide eyed as one patient had been resuscitated successfully and another had been given unit after unit of blood to combat a huge bleed. Aware of every noise and activity from behind paper curtains.
Around 5 am, the nurses took their first proper break which was a grabbed cup of tea behind the nurses station and all it took was a very loud and unexpected high pitched fart from my patient to silence the banter of the eight nurses and one doctor on duty.
In the stillness that followed the doctor , who was not known for his humour said wryly
“ I believe that was an A sharp”
And the hysteria that followed was long and prolonged and much needed.
Plans are like lists to me, they are vital when things need to be done.
When interacting with any patient or patients ‘ relatives at work over my decades of nursing, I always come back to “ The Plan”
“ Have you a plan?” , “ Shall we make a Plan?”
Lockdown in finishing and I think we all need a plan of action. Whether that plan is a clear idea of how you are going to approach our brave new world, or what you are not going to do.
For me, after months of isolation and difficulty, it’s a serious decision that I am not going back there…..to those dark months where I didn’t realise just how lonely and low I had become
Roosevelt also supposedly said It’s better to light a candle than curse the darkness but even she was in turn quoting an ancient Chinese saying, I think I like it almost better than her planning quote…it means …quite simple …..don’t moan about things…just get things done.
I am lucky now , for in my friend Ruth I now have a great new friend and wonderful occasional house and dog sitter. For a small treat ( meringue nests, strawberries, marks and Spencer’s special custard and a bottle of wine) she will house sit the cottage on Tuesday so I can drive up to Sheffield so I can have tea with my dear Marlene Dietrich- sequel pal John H ( Bel Ami in the comment section) and evening drinks with stalwart friends Mike And Jane at All Bar One
In July Ruth is Dorothy sitting again, so I can visit Nu again in London, this time for a meeting with thirty mutual friends from all over the country. The same weekend I had planned to meet my nephew Leo at comic con and catch up with another friend,Alex,to see Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cinderella
After that it’s York ( my old Psychiatric stamping ground) for a catch up with Nigel, Ruth and Dale (Sheffield Spinal Injury friends) ….Vivaldi by candlelight in Liverpool’s Sefton Park Palm House c/o Col, another work base picnic on the beach at West Shore, a village Green Party in Trelawnyd and a hot air balloon ride outside Chester this time with hospice Ruth, who like me ,was brought up with the 1970’s Nimble Girl.
So what do I mean to say with all this planning?
Why is it so important?
A bit of social media showing off?
“Look at me , how happy am I …..?”
The Facebook 😀 syndrome?
No, not really….though it’s always nice to look interesting I suppose.
I think Eleanor Roosevelt had it right , although I don’t quite subscribe to her most famous of diktats Do one thing everyday that scares you…..
Post covid, perhaps the saying could be amended to do one thing, everyday that pleases you!….AND more occasionally than not, with someone you care about
I don’t want to revisit those bleak lockdown singleton days when zoom just about kept your head above water,
Mrs Trellis remarked how well my old fashioned rose in the front garden was doing this morning as I was dead heading it.I told her its name ( Ice Cream) and said it has a fragrance to it that reminds me of when I was a boy at home and she took the time to sink her nose into the nearest bloom and inhaled deeply
“ lovely !” She said then asked, pointing to an emerging bloom nearby
“What’s the little yellow rose called? “
I checked and smiled when I saw it
“ That’s a new rose, a gift from a friend,” I replied, it’s called Winnie”
And indeed it has a species name of Golden Winnie and was a kind gift from my friend Colin after the old girl had died.
This was its first flowering
“Flowers like this one should have a plaque saying just how important they are” Mrs Trellis mused “ The next tenant of your cottage will look after it accordingly “
She looked thoughtful
So many things we keep have the same personal resonance. A drawn postcard of me dog walking from a friend, a hand made hand painted cheese board, a crocheted blanket, a Spanish lamp, a framed piece of an OS map, a rainbow heart….things without formal provenance…
….just things……
We talked about this for a while, and Mrs Trellis said and laughed that she was being overly philosophical today.
She pointed to a poppy head, in the flower bed near to my front door
“What does any of this stuff really matter? Look at the poppy, beautiful and delicate and it will gone tomorrow”
This framed print arrived today.I’d bought it when planning my new blue bedroom. It was posted from Florida. I’ve cut the lawn. Phoned a friend. Cleaned the windows. Washed Bluebell and cut flowers from the garden.
Pippa from the Rectory caught me in the lane, worried about the possible closure of the Church.I’ve asked her to get as many people that are interested to email the vicar supporting the possibility of it becoming a pilgrim church. She said she would.
I’d organised my revalidation paperwork yesterday and will complete my reflective essays when I’m on nights at the weekend, so there was not excuse to sit at my desk today.
I took the dogs to my favourite bit of promenade where we walked for miles…. an amble broken by a large Americano at the Horizon cafe for me and a shared sausage butty for them.
There was a light rain which was refreshing
It felt warm.
In the silence of a long walk, I remembered arbitrary memories, like you do when your mind wanders in croc squeaked steps.
When I was a boy I collected film stills. 8x10 black and white film stills bought for around about a pound each ( without posting) from the British Film Institute . The institute was located at 81 Dean Street in London.
And London felt a million miles away.
As a child, I could only pay for my purchases with a postal order, a green one with extra stamps for postage. I haven’t seen one for years.
Once in every two or three weeks a single photo would arrive in a neat cardboard backed envelope marked with a stamped do not bend instruction on the upper left hand corner.
My name and address would always be formally typed and because of its size the postman would leave the package neatly behind the milk bottles, milk bottles that would be stripped of their red foil tiles by the blue tits in the garden.
Those envelopes , were exciting and important
And they put me into the habit of loving post of all kinds,
A love that remains with me to this day.
Funny what you remember when your mind wanders into mindfulness
In my case today
It was of 1970s postal orders, photographs of disaster movie stars, and a strange and unchanging love of letters through the post
Trying for a beach selfie , I only caught Dorothy’s strange fixation with me
So the know-all receptionist told me when I called back to the vets after Albert had received his X-ray
“ I did warn the vet that he’s not the friendliest of cats, he WAS mismanaged at a previous surgery “ I reminded her but she wasn’t really interested.
I asked to see the vet
Albert had come round from his anaesthetic and was fighting fit.
I could hear him from reception.
I had booked him in early as a precaution. He was eating fine and had asked to go out early this morning for his usual hunt, but he was slightly guarding his deformed leg and he limped a little more than usual.
It had taken two burly country vets and a practice nurse to anaesthetise him.
He had no new leg fractures but must have jarred his old injury the vet told me as there was marked arthritic changes around his repaired leg fracture of a decade ago. The vet noted an “old “ vertebral fracture that was probably missed by his former vet. She had also checked his teeth and removed a tick from his shoulder given the information he didn’t like , even me picking him up
“ He’s lucky” she said “ and he’s a fighter!”
I noted she had a fresh plaster to the back of her hand.
Without the dogs in the car , he wailed all the way home from inside his basket, only shutting up when I let him out in the kitchen where the dogs smelled hesitantly at his left leg, where he had been shaved and canulated .
He’s slept on my bed most of the afternoon, only coming down to eat some specially cooked chicken on the window ledge. I snapped him then sharing my eggy breakfast plate with Mary before he took himself off upstairs again to rest.
Thinking of where I can get some proper coffee in Denbigh.
Albert has just been dropped off for his X-ray .
Examination Under Anaesthetic
He was a bit stressed, bless him, something that Dorothy didn’t help with as she dropped her pacifier ( an expensive hard plastic handled gardening trowel) into the boot from a dislodged back parcel shelf and barked her annoyance so much I had to stop off at a lay-by to retrieve it.
At 8.30 pm Albert followed us for our evening dog walk and was clipped by a blue estate car speeding up the lane towards Cwm, as he galloped for cover. I saw him get lifted into the air
He ran into Graham the shepherd’s field next to Trendy Carol’s
And disappeared
I looked but could find him
Twenty minutes ago he finally walked into the living room with a vague limp and a serious attitude
I’ve checked him and his legs look ok
And he’s now sat on the trendy blue sofa looking majorly pissed off
So I still have a few days off until then, but this week my days will be filled with completing my nursing revalidation .
For those that don’t know, nurses in the Uk have to adhere to a strict code of conduct as set out by The Nursing And Midwifery Council NMC. We pay an annual subscription of 120£ in order to work and every three years we have to prove to the council that we are fit to practice by providing evidence that we have updated ourselves professionally over that period.
This evidence has to be then presented to an objective senior nurse who will sign you off as having reached the required standard to practice.
This week, I am completing my own paperwork.
It’s a bit of a chore to be honest, and one which is a little more complicated for me as I have had a period when I was effectively retired from nursing.
Anyone can look on the NMC website, and it’s sobering to see where a lot of our annual subscription money is being utilised which are the legal investigations of nurses involved in fitness to practice and in house disciplinary procedures.
In May 106 nurses were investigated and in June the number was 118.
In the majority some sort of disciplinary action was involved.
Mistakes happen and the NHS and private organisations such as the hospice are much better at recognising these in house but as in any job, there are bad apples that need to be removed from any barrel and a code of conduct can be an instrumental tool in achieving that.
I don’t really know where I am going with this, I’m just having a mull about things in my head I guess, but I do find it
interesting that on the same day that the Queen has given the George Cross to the entire NHS the Government is still offering just a one percent pay rise . Something that we may not even receive in the charity sector .
Yesterday I went to the AGM of the community association which bookended the coffee morning
I knew everyone in the hall, both from the committee members and the coffee drinkers.
Former flower show matriarch Irene, Mr Poznán looking better than last time I saw him , old Trevor and Barbara Parry among others left as the meeting started and the association members seated themselves across the hall.
Leader Ian and his soft spoken wife Helen. The affable Chair Nick and his wife the velvet voiced Linda,
Stalwarts Di Ellis and David S, the broad smiling Gwawr, Karen Manly with her huge hand knitted poncho, Pippa from the rectory , Ed Lloyd Ellis looking like his dad….the nice as cake Wilson’s …..
We talked a lot about future projects…the future of the hall, a film night sponsored by the choir, the successes of the toddler group and youth club …..the proposed exhibition by villagers of “ what I did during lockdown “ an outside party to celebrate lockdown’s end
It was a positive and constructive meeting.
Being single in your late fifties is made bearable by having a sense of community around you.
On Friday the 16th of July the vicar David Lewis will hold a meeting in the Church grounds to discuss options about the future of the village church of St Michael’s
Financially the Church is in dire straights, so apart from closure the only way to allow the building to survive as a Church is for it to become a Pilgrim Church .
There needs to be more community input for this to happen, so I am appealing to locals like myself , who perhaps love the building but who don’t attend church , to make themselves known and join in with keeping the building going albeit in a different form.
So, if you would like to be involved please let me know, alternatively you can either come to the meeting which starts at 4 pm or contact the vicar directly ( phone 01745 888122) or email davidlewis@churchinwales.org.uk
I am more than happy to organise a community group to oversea such a change , but we need people to voice their concerns and wishes for the Church’s future.
Affable Despot Jason messaged me this morning with daughter Liv’s school report. It underlined just how funny, supportive and wise above her years she is. I remember baby sitting her when she was around seven. I told Jason at the time that I thought she was a 31 year old midget hidden in a child’s body. It was nice hearing just how proud he is of her.
I remember telling her and her sister the story of how Winnie once stopped the traffic in Trelawnyd by having the biggest dump of her life right in the centre of the zebra crossing.
We were baking tarts at the time and the kitchen was filled with screams of laughter that almost shook the windows.
It’s nice to be kept up to date with the girls’news.
I return to work in another week’s time and I’ve not had the urge to go to the cinema or catch up with friends. I’ve pottered again, gardening and weeding and cleaning and organising .
It’s humid and sunny
Albert is sitting on the kitchen wall watching magpies argue in the graveyard.
After our walk, I slept for three hours in the reading armchair in the kitchen with an unread and opened book on my knee…and was only woken by Dorothy who was tap dancing on the vinyl in an effort to control her bladder.
Albert joined us for a walk and the Animals sat around my laburnum in the graveyard in a circle while I tended to it and watered it.
Polish Monika with her little daughter stopped, they were chatting in Polish, Mary rushed over to hug the child, who tumbled backwards giggling.
The dogs ( with Albert) then piled into Bluebell and we popped up to the bus stop in the village to clear one of the untidy planters which had been left unkempt ( I had to keep the dogs with Albert in the car)
I planted up cheap bedding plants and will fill in the gaps with white petunia tomorrow.
I hear the village WI and the Papworth’s will be revamping the raised planters on the green on Saturday.
It would be nice if more interested parties would plant up their parts of the village.
Before, home I collected firewood from my sister and lit the stove when I got home
The dogs are tired and are snoring softly . A so-so adaptation of The Lady Vanishes is on the tv.
It was warm enough to sit out and the simple activity of cooking and chatting and drinking a nice rosé couldn’t be bettered.
Trendy Carol ( dressed in something floaty orange and very summery ) called round to collect Mary as we were eating. Some evenings she just goes for a sociable cuddle.
I’m going to have a lazy day today.
A beach walk, some reading, an old movie ( Build My Gallows High)
I got a card today from a Charlotte, a charlotte who I don’t remember.
She had been a student nurse and I was her mentor on spinal injuries nearly thirty years ago,
I feel bad that I don’t remember her name.
I have mentored a large number of nurses over the years.
The card was kind and reflective and timely.
It’s always nice to hear good things about yourself , especially when the praise is carefully thought out and you have been remembered after so long a time has passed.
Thank you Charlotte
I’m sorry I didn’t remember your name
I think , this underlines the importance of feedback. All too much, we give negative feedback in this service based world , but do we often give positive. ? I think we all think we do….but do we……?
It’s lovely, and warm and affirming and I’m grateful for it today
Pass it forward …even if it’s 30 ago….let someone know they made a difference x
I knew England had won the football by the screams echoing around the village
I understand the tribal attraction to the game but it’s always left me rather cold.
It’s nice to hear people so happy at the result though.
Everyone needs a boost
I carried on with a late dog walk as the yelling continued
I’ve finished the painting today and despite some wobbly lines, I’m pretty happy with the result .
Not one of the cottage walls in the bedroom is straight, so says the spirit level, so I have something else to blame than my fading eyesight and wobbly hand.
I’m knackered but happy that I finished….well almost finished . I’m waiting for some burnt orange curtains and a matching rug to be delivered and there’s a bit of outstanding gloss work to complete but tomorrow I’m meeting my friend Polly for a walk and later another friend Colin is coming to dinner….so I’ve peaked with the paint brushes.
