No real blog today, just a thank you to animal helper Pat , ( for the beans) , The Manley’s ( for muffins with homegrown blueberries and handmade card) and to I’m presuming Eirlys ( for the eggs left on the kitchen wall)…I’m meeting Andrew from well street for a drink in the Crown ( under new management )
I can’t seem to settle at anything at the moment. The deadline for voluntary redundancies is four days away and so my colleagues and I have to live with the uncertainty until then and beyond.
I’m not sleeping well and I don’t feel like writing the blog
I feel lethargic and out of sorts .
Of course things divert me for a while The Gilded Age has proved a slow burn of a watch with Bertha Russell’s social climb in 1890s New York and the sudden arrival of the dishy English Duke Hector ( Ben Lamb)
I may omit posts these next few days…until I know what my employment fate it
Sometimes as a nurse, you are lucky enough to work with a sister wiho has compassion and sense.
On intensive care , two decades ago, I worked with such a sister.
My patient was a Young man who was dying He was ventilated and sedated and looked asleep save for closed eyes which were kept shut by two large foam square dressings ( if you have a patient with half opened eyes their eyes can dry out and can be damaged through lack of moisture )
My job was to prepare his family for his death and to return the ventilator to its basic settings which would allow the patient to gently fade away from his overwhelming illness
The sister let me work at my own pace but as his parents sat down hand in hand , she whispered “ John make sure his eye pads are removed”… I nodded without quite understanding, but trusting her I complied immediately …..
And moments later, my patent slowed his breaths with dignity and I will always remember his mother crying out quietly “ I can see my boy , I can see my boy again”
That sister taught me the importance of allowing relatives to see their loved ones without the barrier of dressings and masks and the like.
To see the person as they know them , devoid of the many trappings of intensive care
And those words of “ I can see my boy again” will always be with me until the end of my nursing career
