Desperate Measures

Clock attendant Arthur Scuttlebottom, saw his role as one of the most important at the bin.  Each morning he would take up position by the clock machine, housed inside the small stone built lodge at the gate.  It was his job to document time of arrival and departure, always greeting early birds with a smile and late comers with a scowl.  Arthur secretly loved Nurse Undeniable and on the rare occasion she was late, big eyes and a broad smile convinced him she felt the same, and he would lovingly push back the hand of time.  This morning, Arthur remembered his last failed attempt at wooing her.  Dressed as a colourful itinerant, he placed himself, his dog and his guitar, outside the local haberdashery and sang "There's a hole in my bucket dear Liza dear Liza, there's a hole in my bucket dear Liza, a hole!"  Nurse Undeniable emerged with her bag of satin ribbons and placed a farthing in his hat "to fix the hole,' she said.  Not exactly the response he was looking for!

Knowing she assisted residents with farm duties twice weekly, he hatched a new plan to capture her ever elusive heart.  Whilst pulling the golden cobs, how could she fail to observe the demise of the fallen scarecrow?

You would be foolish to believe that a change of ward may be good for me.  We are talking about an organisation whose heirarchy thrive on managerial behaviours meant to create the fear of God in employees.  And my reputation of course, would've preceded any move I might make.  So I remain.  I didn't change wards, deciding instead that moving sideways would create even more unhappiness.  Another colleague did move and I hear that she is being made to work the 13hr shifts that I've previously spoken of.  I couldn't have done that.  I give enough of my life to the place.

So we moved.  Lock, stock & barrel moved over to the place that holds some unpleasant memories.  I'm coping with that much better than I thought I would.  But oh the mess it has made of what was once a smooth running rehabilitation ward and what a mess it has made of the service.  Are we this division or that division?  One manager says one thing, another says another.  Daily our ears are bombarded with managerial speak, visions, strategic plans, organisational blah de blah de blah!  Who the f*ck cares?  Nurses couldn't give a damn about all of that, nurses just want the freedom to do what they do best with the right skill mix, the right number of staff and shift patterns that allow them to have a life.  Long gone are the days when nursing came first and being a person and family member second.

Managerial snooping has also become popular.  A recent email forwarded to me by my ward manager and copied to another individual had a footnote asking that particular individual to let him know should there be any problems with what I was being asked to do.  How the bloody hell dare he?  I speedily attacked the keyboard at 70wpm and pointed out that since this had been in the pipeline for months he should be asking me whether there was any problems and promptly hit the send button.  In addition, the divisional strategic newsletter carried the Facebook logo and a comment kindly reminding staff about the importance of confidentiality.  Now let's face it, anyone with an ounce of intelligence will realise that hidden within the sewers of the bin, are insipid little people scouring Facebook for evidence of staff activity.  Luckily I'm not on Facebook, unluckily I'm sure Facebook has seen a sudden fall in its numbers as staff erase their details.

I guess the time is coming that I should ask all who may know my name to avoid using it at all costs.  I've never identified the bin, its residents, its whereabouts or its staff but there may be some who would look deeply into what is written here and recognise it.  So yes, this undeniable nurse asks that in future you never comment with my real name, Nurse Undeniable will suffice and will ultimately save me from any baying wolves.

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