From Left to right -Me (aged 22!) Sandra, Steven,Leslie Brint,Paula (Po),Noreen and Mike(The Class of 83)
As I was dog walking today, I got to thinking about the charismatic and driven Harvey Milk.(See last Wednesday's blog) As a gay rights role model, he was an inspiration to a generation, if not a whole country and people with his kind of vision and leadership often have a profound effect upon the people they meet.
As I walked , I thought about the inspirational people, (and there has been several) that have touched my life over the years. Ok , none of them has the fame of say a Harvey Milk, but all do retain his level of importance in as much that they changed lives!
Leslie Brint was one of those characters. Back in the early 1980's he was the allocated personal tutor to my September 83 Student Mental Health group, and acted as our mentor,teacher and role model for the whole of our three year training!
As many conscientious objectors during the war, Mr Brint was sent to work in his local Psychiatric hospital and I suspect his enlightened views of patient dignity,patient advocacy and his absolute hatred of poor nursing care, especially that given to the elderly mentally ill, would have shaken the asylum old guard to the core!
Our Nursing group was young , malleable and with a couple of exceptions very Liverpudlian. That fact alone meant that were were not always an easy group to challenge and to mould, but Mr Brint in his own quiet and dignified way did make us question our motivations and practice and did help us develop into top notch psychiatric nurses. He never raised his voice, (he never had to), nor did he hide(or apologise for) his religious roots and love for the theatrical (he taught us all to ballroom dance in one lesson so that we could all attend a elderly ward's social night).He was camp as a row of tents, he laughed long and often and he always celebrated the strengths of his students without any ridicule of our weaknesses. Our loyalty to him was justified and sincere.
I always thought Mr Brint to be a nurse well before his time, especially when It came to experiential learning. He spent hours in our teaching time, encouraging us to explore our feelings and self awareness,looking back on it all, he was our therapist for a full three years!
I remember discussing one red letter day with him and our group just after my first elderly placement on a long stay elderly ward (it was termed psycogerries back then).....I find it strange that the memory comes to my mind just now:-
As a student nurse working in the last days of asylum care, life was sometimes a little tough! My elderly placement was on a ward called Dunham Ward. The place was a bleak Victorian prison like building with a Nightingale dormitory for 24 senile men and had a staff of five per shift to care for them. Early shifts were a never ending slog of washing,toileting,changing, feeding and bed making. It was relentless and at times soul destroying, but generally the staff were upbeat and friendly and placements were usually only 12 weeks long!
One day I remember making the patients' drinks in the kitchen. I was tired and fed up, so was carelessly slopping tea into the variety of nhs cups and feeder beakers.Our kitchen was shared by our "sister" ward called Daresbury, which was the female version of Duham ward, as I brewed the tea I could look out from a serving hatch into the ward's day room, where 20 old ladies were all slumped in their chairs which were all set up against the walls!
As I stood there, I could see one male visitor sat presumably with his wife. He was drinking coffee from a flask and she looked as though she was asleep. I remember she had her grey hair in a small tight bun. Slowly he put down his drink and holding onto her hands, he eased the lady to her feet. I thought he must have been preparing her to go to the toilet, but he didn't call a nurse or do that thing that carers have to do from time to time,and that is to check for wet spots!, he just pulled his wife to her feet and held her close before he started to dance with her.
The woman staggered at first and then they both tottered around for a while, but slowly muscle memory kicked in and the couple started to waltz passably around the big room , infront of 20 pairs of unseeing eyes. It was an incredibly moving moment and one that remains with me over 24 years later! In seconds, I had learnt the incredible lesson of the importance of personalised and holistic care.
I remember Mr Brint's emotional smile when I recalled the story in class. By realising the importance of this little moment, I knew I had made him proud of me.
It was a nice feeling
Set in an eerily stateless, ahistorical landscape, Far North (at Theatre Clwyd this evening) is a disturbing, beautiful to look at and rather empty film about maternalism,survival and rivalry. Saiva (The stunning Michelle Yeoh) and her adopted daughter Anja (Michelle Krusiec) live isolated and hunted lives out on the tundra. A soldier Sean Bean blunders into their lonely camp, fleeing an unseen enemy. The trio battle the hardships of the frozen landscape with eventual tragic results.
Mind you 