I was buggered yesterday.
The acuity rating of our patients is high, which essentially means they are complex and need a great deal of nurse intervention
The upside of this is that you are busy and stimulated
The downside is that your feet ache when you get home.
I so needed Dorothy’s foot massage tongue last night
I soaked my feet in a washing up bowl of hot soapy water instead.
Gin and tonic in hand.
I woke late today, it was nearly eleven
I walked the Welsh and treated them with some cooked ham
And enjoyed the face Mary always pulls when she’s eating something delicious
I had a Facebook message from a guy I didn’t recognise this morning too.
It was the son of one of my old spinal Injury patients I’d nursed back in 1998 or so
Her name was Julia and I remember her once wheeling herself into my office to inform me that I was
A hard hearted bastard!
“ I’ve been called worse “ I shot back
“I bet you fucking have “ she replied over her shoulder
Julia was a patient we would now describe as challenging
Then I would have described her as a pain in the arse
But I sort of liked her, despite her ability to be able to exasperate even the most pious of nuns.
Julia’s son messaged me with the news that his mother had died at the age of 77
She was herself to the end, he wrote, and even called her Intensive Care Consultant a Cu*t before she succumbed to her illness.
That sounded like the julia I remembered, the middle aged Rotherham woman who would give the young male paraplegics a run for their money any day, with a potty mouth and with a respect for no one she hadn’t tested herself.
She was a terrier of a woman, spiky, earthy some would say common. A product of a hard upbringing and a life of tragedy.
But when Julia left the Spinal Injury Unit she left me a signed paperback book she had read whilst on bedrest
It was Going Gently by David Nobbs.
I still have it somewhere
On the front page she had written with love from Julia, you gave me my life back
And I replied to her son’s message with this very story