The Bristol Maid
Algernon Dikwacker the hospital security guard was a proud and conscientious employee. Meticulously carrying out his role, he scrutinised everyone with his mean green eyes. Every individual was a possible crook and when things went missing, his investigations left no stone unturned. His reputation as a philanderer was not without just cause, mainly because body searches varied in length of time, being dependant upon whether his suspect was male or female, and many couldn’t understand why some nurses emerged from his sweaty hands hissing and spitting, whilst others merely giggled and adjusted their clothes. So it came as no surprise to Nurse Undeniable that on reporting the sudden disappearance of the *Bristol Maid, Algernon was straining at the leash to solve the mystery. She was a little bemused however, to see him stock his basket with bread and wine before lighting a cigarette, jumping on his trusty binmobile cycle and peddling off into the sunset. Sadly for Algernon, his fantasy of finding and interrogating the Bristol Maid under the influence of good bread, good wine and good hands would soon come to an abrupt and horrifying end, when he realised that he was going to seduce nothing more than a cabinet on wheels. Nurse Undeniable sniggered, she knew that even his daily cup of Bromide tea could never cool down his ardour as quickly as the *Bristol Maid!
*Bristol Maid = Drug Trolley
I’ve probably made the biggest mistake of my career, but then I’ve always been a rather impulsive employee. The machine at the bin has once again groaned into action. My ward is on the move. The insanity of our managers is incredulous. Expansion is now moving beyond the boundaries of this town in Middle England and those that will fill its new units, are unaware of its reputation of hiding its psychopathic status under the heading of ‘charity!’
There are few vacancies for nursing staff these days. Most positions being filled with those on work permits. In some ways I feel sorry for the fact that they are unable to voice their opinions for fear of their work permit being rescinded. In other ways I wonder what they really expected from this organisation. It is by design that we now find ourselves in this position. How hard the powers that be have worked to weaken the workforce. And now those same people will disband a perfectly good team of nurses, thereby diminishing their strength. What better way to implement change. Draconian measures ensuring no resistance.
Five years ago I left a unit to take up the position I currently hold. I left because I could no longer stomach the sickening lengths some people would go to crawl up their own backsides. It was an acute ward at that time but in recent weeks, the organisation has made a decision to end its acute care in order to further develop its male forensic service. The result is an almost empty building except for the staff that remain. My ward is to be relocated within the next three to four weeks. Lock stock and barrel will move over there. I don’t want to go. No way can I return to be managed by people that I couldn’t stand five years ago. Nothing will have changed plus until two days ago, I was probably much happier than I’ve ever been. Mainly because the poison dwarf that had made my life so miserable had moved on.
It’s likely that all my shifts will now be 12 perhaps even 13 hour shifts. When I spoke of being unable to work those shifts because of my home commitments etc., little sympathy was given. So faced with the possibility of being totally unhappy again, what was I to do?
I’ve asked for a move and I know exactly where staff are needed, which means I know exactly what area I shall be moved to. And though I haven’t been told that I can move, I know that they will move me now that I’ve asked. I’ve probably walked straight into their bloody hands. Oh well, 22 years as a psychiatric nurse and now I’m going to be working with learning disabilities, albeit those with mental health problems too.
SHIT!!!!
I am! yet what I am who cares, or knows?
My friends forsake me like a memory lost.
I am the self-consumer of my woes;
They rise and vanish, an oblivious host,
Shadows of life, whose very soul is lost.
And yet I am -- I live -- though I am toss'd
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dream,
Where there is neither sense of life, nor joys,
But the huge shipwreck of my own esteem
And all that's dear. Even those I loved the best
Are strange -- nay, they are stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod--
For scenes where woman never smiled or wept--
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Full of high thoughts, unborn. So let me lie,--
The grass below; above, the vaulted sky.
Poem by John Clare