Really, I’ve nothing interesting to say. At least I don’t think I have. I could go on at length about feeling undervalued and mightily underpaid because my shift roster includes a 9 day stretch that goes ELELELLEL; and which, well, when I struggle to pay bills and we can’t actually afford to see friends or eat out, or go out, those nice things which make life a lot nicer; well. I can’t say as my opinion of my job is high at the moment. That shift roster is also likely to impact on my ability not to laugh idiots out of the department, or at least suffer from snarky-sarcasmitis.Â
By idiots I mean the sort of people who turn up at A&E with an ‘irritation in their nose’ which has gone on for 5 days. Now, I’m only now doing the training which allows me to assess our newly booked in visitors, but I have to admit as I stood looking at this individual and my highly skilled trainer questioned him on his symptoms I feared breaking out into hysterical laughter.
Why was he there? Why did he stop A&E doctors treating minor injuries and people who need our services? Because he couldn’t be bothered to wait the extra 30 minutes to see the local GP out of hours service, and he also couldn’t be bothered to register as a temporary resident at a GP.
When the assessment nurse I was working with wrote his notes for the doctor to see – and I admit to hoping it was one of our less patient doctors who booted him out – I did suggest she could stop after the first word (“irritation”). After much laughter we put him (well, his card) into the doctor’s box; but I wish we’d not been so busy I could have peaked in and listened to the conversation.
Although GPs are something that I increasingly find I have less respect for; having had an individual come in a while ago with a ?Dislocated shoulder from a GP and found her to be septic – the doctor it seems hadn’t even bothered to check her pulse when he’d seen her… there’s busy and there’s busy. Thankfully our assessment nurse did her obs and found her (for the technically minded) tachycardic, tachypneic, pyrexial, hypotensive and hypoxic (or her heart was going to fast, she was breathing very quickly, had a high temperature, very low blood pressure and had low levels of oxygen in her blood)…
And, as a side point, having been there a while – I’m able to prompt the newer doctors on correct management of acutely unwell patients. Which is nice.
But, for all my whining they’ve offered to (possibly) send me on the ATLS course as an observer (I’m too green to go on the course for real, yet, but knowledge even without qualifications is a good thing). I’d seen the poster up, but presumed there’d be others who wanted to go who were perhaps more skilled, or experienced than me. But it seems I’m the one who’s been offered the place (because no one else is interested! Not because of skills or experience, sadly). But I’m looking forward, if somewhat nervously, to that. More strings to my bow, as they say.
Anyhow, so that’s put me in a better mood; and ironically it may fix my attrocious shift pattern too (or, I suppose, potentially make it worse).
In other, other news, the DAF should be off to be repaired shortly. A nice chap from the DAF owners club’s offered to come and let me/us take a little ride in his DAF so we know what we’re getting in to. I’ve bought a DAF manual off e-bay (various people kindly offered to give me a manual, but one needed me to ride in and collect it (which isn’t far, but my bike’s not exactly the wellest thing in all christendom and was *very* kind of him) and the other seems to have been struck by the disappearing curse of e-bay) – since there was one on there for a fiver – and it means that I can start servicing the brakes and such like so as to get the little car up and running (the intention being that I get it taken down to Langley for it’s repairs and then take it straight from there to an MOT).
What is proving to be a little of a challenge is that the previous owner can’t locate the V5 for the car. Despite promises from the chap who had the car in the garden that it’d be with me soon, the previous owner (who I have to admit, is disabled and thus I don’t really hold a grudge about this, it’s more an annoyance) can’t locate it at the moment. Is, apparently, looking for it though. It’s not a disaster, instead it’s an annoyance. I can apply for a new one – but I just know as soon as I do that then it’ll appear.
I’ve also been plotting a new route to work – given how sickly my MZ is becoming, with it’s new top speed of 50 whole mph, I’ve started to contemplate the usefulness of a non-motorway route. Unfortunately, between my home and the hospital there is one moderate sized town; through which I would be forced to ride. Unfortunately googlemaps reckons it’d take me 40 minutes (which I take to mean, at least an hour). So I think I may have to pull Charlie back here and get her fixed and running. Ach. Life, it’s too complicated.
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