(no subject)
Wednesday, 4 January 2006 07:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keaaluI have just paid my 2006 membership fees for the RPSGB.
...
*sob*
£267 (Current exchange rate makes that $469.56 for all you USians) And for a job that really gets to me some days - I could never be a nurse. I mean, here's an example - I work in a hospital, and spend about an hour and a half every day on "my" ward, which is a care of the elderly ward. A large number of patients are quite batty, and occasionally head off on their walking frames and you have to collar them at the doors before they're off across the car park, and a lot have fallen over and just come in while they recover. A lot are very ill, though - they have Parkinson's or cancer or Huntington's chorea or infections or... and I mean they're usually badly ill. Over the past couple of weeks I've come in to see the death certificate book out on the ward, tucked into someone's notes, and it does get at you - especially when you glance into their notes and see "Pupils fixed, patient unresponsive. Death certified 03:17 hours. May your soul rest in peace" on the last page. And it's funny what sticks in your mind, too - there was a gent on my ward who was waiting to go home (to his son's) over the new year period, but couldn't go to his son's home because the heating had broken down, so the ward were trying to arrange a temporary nursing home place for him. They'd got the place sorted, and he was really looking forwards to actually GOING, and got dressed in record time, got his coat and hat and scarf and walking frame and suitcase all ready and... the nursing home phoned back and said they wouldn't take him after all (I guess it was "too much hassle" for them at new year. *grumble* ). So he just sat on his bed, sobbing (then he had a hypo. :\ He finally left yesterday). And that made ME feel like crying - I mean, he's an inoffensive, quiet 80-something gent, I could understand it if they didn't want to take one of the noisy, "manipulating" old women who just sit there and cry "help me... oh please help me..." when there's nothing wrong with them. Now, see, that's why I couldn't be a nurse. Okay, I'm going to shut up before I get all teary again. :P
Still, now you see why I have no money. :P
Now I'm going to go off and format some story notes, so I can put them up on my forum, just for the interest factor - since at the rate I'm going most will NEVER see light of day. :(
...
*sob*
£267 (Current exchange rate makes that $469.56 for all you USians) And for a job that really gets to me some days - I could never be a nurse. I mean, here's an example - I work in a hospital, and spend about an hour and a half every day on "my" ward, which is a care of the elderly ward. A large number of patients are quite batty, and occasionally head off on their walking frames and you have to collar them at the doors before they're off across the car park, and a lot have fallen over and just come in while they recover. A lot are very ill, though - they have Parkinson's or cancer or Huntington's chorea or infections or... and I mean they're usually badly ill. Over the past couple of weeks I've come in to see the death certificate book out on the ward, tucked into someone's notes, and it does get at you - especially when you glance into their notes and see "Pupils fixed, patient unresponsive. Death certified 03:17 hours. May your soul rest in peace" on the last page. And it's funny what sticks in your mind, too - there was a gent on my ward who was waiting to go home (to his son's) over the new year period, but couldn't go to his son's home because the heating had broken down, so the ward were trying to arrange a temporary nursing home place for him. They'd got the place sorted, and he was really looking forwards to actually GOING, and got dressed in record time, got his coat and hat and scarf and walking frame and suitcase all ready and... the nursing home phoned back and said they wouldn't take him after all (I guess it was "too much hassle" for them at new year. *grumble* ). So he just sat on his bed, sobbing (then he had a hypo. :\ He finally left yesterday). And that made ME feel like crying - I mean, he's an inoffensive, quiet 80-something gent, I could understand it if they didn't want to take one of the noisy, "manipulating" old women who just sit there and cry "help me... oh please help me..." when there's nothing wrong with them. Now, see, that's why I couldn't be a nurse. Okay, I'm going to shut up before I get all teary again. :P
Still, now you see why I have no money. :P
Now I'm going to go off and format some story notes, so I can put them up on my forum, just for the interest factor - since at the rate I'm going most will NEVER see light of day. :(
