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Upbeat
I am being truly upbeat.
It's two days to my birthday, which none of my family have forgotten, I made sure.
I have another tooth abscess, but so what, dihydrocodeine masks it beautifully.
I have managed to 'win' another little tikes climbing frame on my favourite 'waste your money from the comfort of your own home' website.
BIL spellbinding and amusing account of his dabbling with hypnotism has just made me laugh until tears appeared. If I tell you, before you read it, that he is a tall, well built man, you may appreciate why I found it so hilarious.
The plants are springing into life in my garden and there are pockets of colour cheering up the greyness.
I have just seen a double rainbow.
Hubby is cooking dinner.
All I want to do is to freeze the NHS for a week, not the whole NHS, just the paper-pushing element of it. Hospitals, etc could go on functioning, they could, really they could, but all the 'plug-ins' would crash. Then I would invite a couple of senior clinical staff from each area within each trust to go in and rearrange them, alter priorities, remove unnecessary functions, shut-down the network with government, restore defaults, and then start the whole whirring system back up again.
Priority number 1 would be patient care. Lately I have come to the conclusion that the clinical staffs priority is patient care, but that the 'paper-pushers' worry far more about stars, ratings, finances, and themselves than they do about how the care reaches the user. The other problem is that often the user doesn't get to see what has gone into providing the care. They are unaware of the frantic calls trying to drum up staff, the staff staying long after their shift has officially ended, the scurrying around trying to find the right equipment, and once found hoping that it works. As I've mentioned before, due to staff shortages, extreme staff shortages, community midwives are now required to work shifts within the hospital. All well and good, but our women out on the community suffer, unless we do these 'inside' shifts in our time, which most of us are doing. The care is reaching the women, but it is being delivered by midwives in their own time. Whilst this is happening we have been told to increase the homebirth rate, which we have. This reduces the workload within the hospital, but increases ours, again. What of the equipment necessary? There is no money available. We have the original 2 sets of equipment, but there can be no increase. The most amazing one is that we don't have enough entonox (gas and air) cylinders for the homebirths, we asked for more, but there is no funding available. So there is funding for managers 'jollies' at hotels, buffet lunches during their meetings, etc., but no funding for the services the managers are there to facilitate. I really believe that the Health Service is collapsing around us, collapsing or being completely smothered by a bureaucratic gag of paperwork. For heaven's sake, those who are supposed to be improving things, look up from your laptops and calculators and see what is physically happening around you. OMG, I just had a thought, perhaps all other sectors of the NHS are fine, it might just be the maternity services that are in crisis. Why would that be? A Government plot to reduce the birth rate. Perhaps maternity services are not considered high profile enough to warrant investment. Poor management. Have to investigate this possibility of MS being the 'poor relation'.
Off my soap-box now. Today is my birthday meal, Hubby is cooking and all the family are coming round. My choice was cheese omelette and chips, I have been over-ruled. Apparently I don't really want that, I would much rather have a full roast dinner, beef, with all the trimmings. My protestations fell on deaf ears, so a roast dinner it is then.
Happy Easter
Son and DIL had a horrid start to the week. Their buyers pulled out, so the flat is back on the market and our spare bedroom is once again full of their clutter. That night Lucy Lou, the little white cat they've had for two years, failed to come home. First thing the following morning they had a call to say that she had been hit by a car and had died immediately. Since they live in a flat with communal gardens they asked if they could bring her here and bury her. She now resides in my unofficial cemetery with; Kizzy and Elmo - cats who died in our house fire; Boris and Harry - cats hit by cars; Wally - cat who died of old age (17 years); Tyson - house rabbit; Milly and Ivan - pet rats; Scruff - guinea pig; Whisper and Hannibal - Hamsters; numerous goldfish; 2 placentae; and the obligatory assortment of wild mice and birds. Jack's Daddy believes we also have a pony buried in the garden,a wind-up by daughters, we don't.
Lucy - Lou 
Off now to buy black-out blind for babies room. We are baby-sitting Amy tonight and she has this unsociable habit of waking with the rising sun, I am hoping to and fool her, and hopefully get a couple more hours sleep.
Hubby is still not smoking, it's 6 weeks tomorrow, he has done so well. I am still allowing myself two ciggies a day, one after breakfast and one after 9 at night. I always have the morning one, but often leave out the evening one. I wouldn't say that either of us are happy, but those around us are.
Anyway, have a good Easter.
Yesterday saw me low, very low. Rationally I knew why, I had missed half a nights sleep, but having that information didn't help, infact it may have just weighted my mood adversely.
I had missed the sleep 'cos I was 'called in'. Oh yes, us midwives are so dedicated that we have a 'calling', the unit calls us. Why do they call us? Because they are short-staffed and busy. Why are they short-staffed? Because the NHS has decided on cut-backs. Why are they so busy? Because we have too many women at our unit. Why do we have too many women at our unit? Because they closed the other local maternity unit and Birth Centre. Why did they do that? Because of cut-backs......and on, and on. So, back to the disturbed sleep...., worked all day, came home, bed, sleep, phone call at 4am, busy on unit, please attend. Drove in, changed into scrubs, walked into a room, lady curled up on bed, partner bending over her, 'I want an epidural, now' came the muffled plea from the bed, 'Let me just put some gloves on, perhaps we'll just forget the gloves, okay, don't push for a minute, baby's head is just appearing, breathe for me 'cos the cord is just wrapped around baby and I need to unravel a bit, lovely baby's here. Dad, what make of baby is it? Yes a lovely little boy. Dad, could you just press the call button for me?' Yes, once again I appeared just in time to catch a baby, but with not enough time to either put my gloves on, or have opened the pack that has all the useful stuff in it. So, stayed on the unit until 10am when I announced I was going home. 'What about your clinic?' Someone else could do that, just let me have 2 hours sleep, and then I would do my visits, but a clinic with women who need my sympathy, no way. Anyway the baby weighed 6olbs 6ozs, and is called Charlie.
Shoulder has been very uncomfortable, I have had another tooth abscess, a sore throat for 5 weeks, and conjunctivitis, so I saw my G.P yesterday (poor man) and just let him share in my utter fed-up-ness. He rose to the challenge admirably. Within minutes a hydrocortisone laden syringe was approaching my shoulder joint and his printer was churning out prescriptions for mood altering drugs, well the penicillin will be mood-altering if it gets rid of the sore-throat. Today all is much the same, except for the mood which is much improved, it's amazing what a little TLC will do.
Tomorrow is Jack's 2nd birthday party, I'm on potty duty. God it's wonderful being Nanny, you get all the good jobs. Some lucky person is organising pass the parcel, whilst all I get do is watch for small people indicating that their bladders may be about to release their contents, and get in there quick before they ruin their best outfits. Yes, I am talking about the toddlers, not the relatives.
Off now to make a salmon flan. I remember a time when a Friday evening was more exciting than this. Loud music whilst we got ready for the night out. Few drinks in the pub, then off to Baileys. Dancing away for a few hours, fall down the stairs, jump into the pond outside, reluctant cabbie return us to lodgings.
Oh Lordy. Forgot the other main event tomorrow. Prior to my duties as potty attendant I am attending Son's cup final, the B & B Cup, Bed and Breakfast, I don't know. Apparently it is important, and my presence is expected. Fun Saturday for me then. Anyone who imagines that once their children have left home, will have their own lives back, think again.
Yesterday was such a lovely day that I had envisaged giving the grass its first cut today, but thwarted by this persistent drizzle. It has made me take on a task that I have been putting off, tidying up the greenhouse. Poor, old, glass structure was looking like something out of the Secret Garden, broken clay pots, dried out, dead plants, spiders webs draping the shelving, a testament to what a seasons abandonment of a garden environment can do. Really the whole garden is suffering from me not being around last summer/autumn, the lawn is more moss and weeds than grass, the flower beds are starting to look full, but it's weed seedlings that are pushing through vigorously, not my perennials.
Yesterday afternoon was different. First we went to Son's cup final, not the Bed and Breakfast, but the Berks and Bucks. I am an irregular attendee at his footie, when he was young I would wander down if the weather was just right, not too hot, not too cold, and definitely not wet. I never felt guilty 'cos Hubby was their manager, so he did have one parent there. Now I watch his cup games, and yesterdays was quite entertaining. It's difficult now though because they are all men, but I still view the proceedings from the maternal perspective of that being my little boy on that pitch being elbowed and kicked by other boys. They won though 2-0, excellent, particularly as a couple of the other team were rejects from Premiership Youth Teams.
Then we motored off to Jacks party. When we arrived the junior version was in full-swing, 17 children aged 3 months to 11 years. They were all eating a variety of unhealthy foods, and loving it! Amy had gone into a feeding frenzy, all that food, and no one policing her intake, pure ecstasy for Miss Butterball. Jack really enjoyed himself and must have been exhausted by the end of his portion of the celebrations. By eight o clock there were toddlers and babies sleeping everywhere, there was even one in the bathroom. Then the music came on, the toys and fun party food disappeared, our cue to leave as the parent part was about to commence.
On the way home we went to an Indian restaurant we have been meaning to try for a while. Very friendly, food not bad, good ambiance, thought we might go there again. Once home Hubby settled down to catch the highlights of Spurs v Arsenal and I just ruminated on the inadvisability of wearing new shoes to a football match and childs party. Sore feet!
In bed my tummy felt full, very full, over full. Just made it to the bathroom before my curry revisited. I could blame the restaurant, but that would probably be unfair, more likely to be alcohol plus antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. Still, didn't spoil a lovely day.
YOUR AGE BY CHOCOLATE SUM
It takes less than a minute .
Work this out as you read ...
Be sure you don't read the bottom until you've worked it out!
This is not one of those waste of time things, it's fun.
1. First of all, pick the number of times a week that you would like to have chocolate
(more than once but less than 10)
2. Multiply this number by 2 (just to be bold)
3. Add 5
4. Multiply it by 50 -- I'll wait while you get the calculator
5 If you have already had your birthday this year add 1756 ....
If you haven't, add 1755.
6. Now subtract the four digit year that you were born.
You should have a three digit number
The first digit of this was your original number
(i.e., how many times you want to have chocolate each week).
The next two numbers are
YOUR AGE! (Oh YES, it is!!!!!
THIS IS THE ONLY YEAR (2006) IT WILL EVER WORK, SO SPREAD IT AROUND WHILE IT LASTS.
I am like the cat that got the cream. That evil harridan, that emissary of the dark side has faced those that she torments, and has been lambasted. In the scheme of things it will not affect her decisions, but at least, for us poor minions, there is a primitive pleasure in her temporary discomfort . Well done you nurses.
Amy is lovely. A little butterball who is full of mischief and cheekiness. Today we had a wonderful day, we just did the usual, supermarket shop, walk this afternoon, but she was an absolute pleasure. She has been saying the usual - Mummum, Dada, Nan, Grandad, Ta, Duck for a while now but today she was calling 'Jack', saying 'down' when she had finished lunch, and then when she slammed the cupboard door, for the 20th time, and knocked a mug over, said 'Oh Dear'. She is growing up so quickly, baby to toddler in the blink of an eye.
I'm spending much of my 'reflective time' considering what to do with the rest of my working life. I often do this, but I do have to say that my deliberations have become more serious over the last year. When I'm at work, I love my job but I am finding it harder and harder to cope with the bureaucracy, and that is fast becoming a much larger part of my working day. It is all clouding my thinking so much now that I feel a 'break' might be a good idea, finances would be a problem though so any suggestions regarding a viable career change would be well received. Thank heavens I'm off to a conference for two days next week, that should re-energise me and lift my spirits. I usually leave these occasions feeling positive about midwifery so I'm pining my hopes on the recuperative powers of this meeting of the sisterhood (Hubby's description of a group of midwives).