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Any car buffs?
It seems like ages since I last poured my thoughts out to my keyboard, two reasons, firstly Hubby and I have been away to Bude, Cornwall with friends celebrating best friends 'all clear' from her Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma, and boy did we celebrate. We visited some wonderful places, Clovelly is definitely worth a visit. We had been forewarned by a local that you have to pay to go into the village, unless you visit late in the day, so we took his advice and are doubly grateful as it also meant that all those nasty tourists had left and we could enjoy a much needed bevvy in the pub by the small harbour. We also sampled Rick Stein's bistro hospitality, I am not a food buff, am not that keen on fish dishes but have to admit that it was a wonderful evening in an extremely pleasant environment, and the wine wasn't bad either.
The second reason I have been strangely reticent is that I was struck down by a nasty bug which not only caused my throat to swell up but also affected my eyes, much mega puffiness, soreness, and watering making focusing on anything quite difficult. I felt so c**p anyway that blogging was the last thing on my mind, bed was the most appropriate place to be. Shame really because it was also my birthday, no celebrating on the day but the usual family meal to come on Easter Sunday.
Daughter who is home to the twins has, fingers crossed, sold her house and has had an offer accepted on one which will provide more space. Now she is ruminating on what car can accomodate three child seats in the back, any suggestions? Nothing too large, or expensive. She had another scan last week and saw the fetal medicine consultant this week. All is well at the moment, they are going to scan the babies every two weeks to check nothing untoward is going on and a detailed cardiac scan has been booked for a months time as the consultant told us that twins have a higher risk of cardiac abnormality, I've been searching for info about this but havn't found any, yet. Twins, such an exciting concept but when you get down to the nitty gritty there are an awful lot of potential problems just during the pregnancy, let alone caring for them when they are born.
I surrender
I have failed to talk about the new plans for maternity care as they seem to be such a contentious issue, and I'm really not sure why. Basically old Patsy Hewitt, really can't stand the woman, I shout at the telly whenever she comes on, slam down the newspaper in disgust whenever her name is mentioned and generally steel myself to be subjected to yet another plan or target if I catch a glimpse of her condescending features, is only dragging out a revamped form of Changing Childbirth and the Winterton Report from back in the early 90's (can't find a link). I know my memory is sometimes a trifle erratic but I can't remember there being such a furore and public outcry back then, why now? Perhaps I'm being oversensitive but it strikes me that the favourite occupation to slate at the moment is Midwifery. Midwives seem to be portrayed in the media as harridans, zealots, deliberately negligent, lazy and any other derogatory term that springs to the authors, or interviewees mind. I wasn't surprised when my little 'love to hate' Doc went off on one of his tirades against 'madwives', I would have been disappointed if he hadn't picked up the baton and run with it, but he wasn't the only one and what has really made me put fingers to keyboard was this article. I think it could be the straw that breaks the camel's back. I know I'm generally down at the moment. So much has happened over the last few months that my usual fighting reserves are quite depleted and I have taken to lying low rather than sticking my head above the parapet. I am really unhappy in my new post, I suspect that if I were feeling more robust I would probably be a happier bunny and ready to take on the challenge, but at the moment it all seems like just too much. What do I want to do? What I really want to do is just leave, give up, say 'sod the lot of you'. At the moment my love of my job has entirely deserted me and I have to say that reading and hearing that much of the population considers that the job I do is fairly poor, that I obviously don't have women's best interests at heart 'It is the next stage in a midwife-led campaign to limit the choice available to women giving birth.'* and that the way my personal life is frequently put on hold is not recognised 'We know it, because we know about NHS rotas and staff attitudes and the way the patients are made to fit around them.' does nothing to make me feel I should do anything other than the absolute basics required of me. I would love to be able to fulfill Ms Miles plea 'Please, let us have fewer of them (midwives), not more'. Regrettably circumstances dictate that I shall carry on being a Midwife but I do have to say that I feel that this Midwife has found Ms Miles article to be one of the biggest insults I have felt and as a result a huge disincentive to to give anymore of myself than I need. *I am not aware of any 'midwife-led campaign', I must be so out of touch.
...and another thing
This follows on from yesterdays thought processes about a Times columnist's call for there to be less, not more, midwives. Who then is going to provide, not just the care in labour but the antenatal and postnatal care? The Consultants, and their teams within the hospital setting, would not be able to take it on, there are not enough of the medics as it is, so that's impossible. Anyway, one of the frequent moans about care in pregnancy is that times and venues are difficult for women to fit in to their day, or too far to get to (thanks to the closure of many local maternity units) so that would be creating another problem. How about the G.P's taking on more maternity care, some G.P's don't provide any so heaven knows what would happen there, they have lost their skills and would require retraining. I can't think that that solution would be workable anyway given that G.P's are apparently set to reduce their workloads as they are unhappy with their pay. I shall refrain from commenting on this. All I know is that the tasks they are refusing to do have to be done by someone and you can bet that 'someone' has not just had the generous pay rise that the G.P's did.
Yes, I have mused and fumed all night about that article. I must be starting to feel more my old self as I feel in more of a fighting, and less of a retreating, mood today. Lets hope I can sustain that for a few more years.
At last I have got a photo of the Grandchildren all together. When I have time I shall download it and be a proud Nanny.
I hate paperwork
Well, today was my first day of being out there not being orientated, and it was a mixed bag. The day started off well. Time in the office to try and make some sense of all the paperwork that was overflowing from my storage box, no simple in-tray for a community midwife, a large capacity plastic box is the only receptacle capable of housing assorted edicts and communications from numerous sources. A new one on this midwife, a sheet of info from the local constabulary concerning a domestic dispute (shouting match) involving a woman in early pregnancy. I was perplexed, what the **** should I do? Hmmm, I'll speak to the Health Visitors as there are 2 under fives at that address, they should know the protocol. I'll 'file' it in my diary. Oh wonderful, several sheets of paper with columns on it, another audit perhaps. No, a log of all the women I see at each and every clinic, the covering letter advises me that 'the funding for our service is changing. Unless we provide accurate and timely statistics the financing of the service will be adversely affected.' These Community Midwife Activity Sheets want to know everything, names, addresses, NHS numbers, DOB, G.P, Hospital booked at, Time in, time out no quick scrawl here then. Unfortunately these time and motion sheets do not allow for me being unable to start clinic in time due to the G.P praying in the room I am scheduled to use, 10 minutes. The computer guy installing an update, another 10 minutes, and then me having to change rooms a third of the way through clinic as the computer guy needs to come in to re-programme something, 5 minutes. A total of 25 minutes delay imposed upon my clinic before the usual overruns that happen because a problem is encountered with a pregnant woman. I shall write this on the form anyway, I think it's noteworthy if we are worried about how efficiently my time is being used.
There was, in my box, a letter requesting the stats for my caseload for last year. What? I only started today. How should I know? I can't find any relevant documentation. I'll write a reminder note in my diary to, I don't know really, but I'll remind myself that I should do something. Found a Health Visitor to ask about the 'domestic', 'ignore it' was the advice. 'It's really annoying, they are always sending these, covering their butts'. is a precis of what she said.
In my magical paper receptacle were also tens of A5 sheets with blood results. My heart sank, bloody hell am I supposed to file all these, keep them close to my heart, what? I turned to a colleague. She laughed at my obvious horror, file them, in the bin. Don't know why they send them to us, G'P's have a copy, hospital has a copy, they just send one to us as well. What a waste of time, money and paper. That was not the end though. Arriving at the G.P's I looked in our tray and there, nestled comfortably in their own special plastic wallet were..........more copies of the blood results.
It took me an hour and a half to wade through all the printed matter allotted to me. Was any of it useful? No. Did any of it benefit the women? No. Who is benefitting? No answer to that one.
I survived the day. Only finished half an hour late. I'm on-call now until 8.30 in the morning, I'm feeling positive, I will have a nights sleep. Hope so because I've got another clinic in the morning.
On the up
Time is flying at the moment, but I don't care because..........I'm happy. For the first time in 6 months, ever since my tearing to shreds by 2 people who should know better, I have a lightness of spirit. I realised this on Friday when I was on the way home from work, I felt wonderful, and that was how I greeted Hubby when I came in. Luckily he is used to my proclivity for suddenly announcing out of the blue something which could be considered mundane, my reward for being happy was a hug, I think he is relieved. Work seems, fingers crossed, to be going well. Most of the women I have met so far are great, there is always the exception, like the one who introduced herself with the added information that she is a lawyer, I didn't think a witty riposte along the lines of 'we all have our faults' would be appreciated so I just nodded wisely and continued with the appointment.
Daughter had her appointment with the Fetal Medicine Consultant today, and I got to see the twins on scan, I couldn't help but coo about their frolics. All is well, they are virtually the same size, each is slightly larger than a singleton at the moment, I have reassured daughter that this is good as they will doubtless grow more slowly further on (winging it on that one, I haven't got a clue!). There is no sign of twin-to-twin at the moment so their Mummy is no longer thinking of them as 'doomed', her word, and is now feeling quite positive.
I've been considering the way the government seem to be allowing, no encouraging, the falling to pieces of the NHS, and I have come to the conclusion that it is all part of a dastardly plan. How it goes is that due to the state of the service, I use that term in it's loosest possible fashion, more of the public will start using private medicine, which will reduce the need for as many hospitals and employees and so validate the cuts that are being made now. The other scenario is that they know they are going to be out of power come the next General Election so all the fall-out will be shouldered by the winning party so ensuring that Labour will be voted back in next time. Wait, a third possibility is germinating, something to do with them not wanting to be re-elected because they don't want Gordon as their leader. I can't blame them for that, I cannot watch the man, that thing he does with his jaw whilst he is speaking is so annoying, and mesmerising, that I hear nothing of what he is saying and find myself shouting at the telly for him to STOP IT.
Birthday Boy
Yesterday was Jack's 3rd birthday party, a noisy affair with children of various ages taking it in turns to laugh, cry and fall over. It was a dinosaur themed event as they are Jack's current passion, he is able to name most dinosaurs accurately and does not hesitate to correct anyone who gets their diplodocus muddled up with their brachiosaurus. The anniversary of his birth must have set his Mummy thinking because she just phoned me up and asked if I had 'blogged' about Jack and Izzy's births and if I had could I send her copies as she was feeling very hazy about them. I logged on and checked that Jack's was still there, that it hadn't been erased during the changeover, and there it was. I started reading it to her and, like the big soppy that I am, started being all tearful when I reached the point he was entering the world, talk about emotional women!
Pregnant daughter et al. are, at this moment, flying out to Spain for a weeks holiday with the in-laws. She is viewing this their last chance at a 'normal' break for at least a year, she is anticipating the birth of Van and Lorry, the twins, with trepidation. What was lovely at the party yesterday was that all both daughter's friends are on standby to assist both before and after the identicals arrival and they were swapping phone numbers so that they can liase with one another. Hopefully a robust support network will see her through any difficult times to come.
Heaven only knows what is happening to the maternity services in this area, it is mainly trifling things but there are many irritants that I feel really shocked as I discover one hiccup after another. We mainly book women for 2 different maternity units here, both the same Trust but almost entirely different paperwork. The week before last one unit ran out of scan request forms, not the end of the world but something that makes a simple request for a scan appointment more difficult as the ultrasonographers want a proper carbon-copy form. Luckily I was at that unit with daughter last week so the 2 scans I wished to book could be requested by me photocopying the one blank form they had as a master. Not too stressful but it means driving a total of 30 miles just to book a scan, not really cost-effective so something I wouldn't normally do. Then I hit upon the plan of sending them scan forms from the other hospital in the Trust, yes thats fine but they have to be in duplicate and we don't have a photocopying machine so you have to fill in 2 scan forms, tedious but a way of solving a problem until...........the other hospital runs out of scan forms, yes that has happened. Methinks the Trust might be trying to save money by stopping the scanning service. Apprently the forms have been on order for 6 weeks now, someone needs to put a boot up the backside of the suppliers and I'm first in the queue. Then I heard about another local unit that had 17 births in one day, and that 16, 16 of them had been by caesarian section, that is absolutely horrendous, that's like a statistic you would hear from Brazil. I have applied for my hospital parking permit, which I have to pay for even though I cannot do my job without my car and if I have to park in a car-park whilst I'm working I can claim the money back, Anyway, there is an 18 month waiting list for a permit!! I have been warned I will be clamped if I don't 'pay and display', well b******s to you jobs worths, clamp me, that should make interesting reading in the local press if a hospital representative makes it impossible for me to do my job. SFB.
Relief, and sadness
Last night Son phoned me. I could tell by his voice that something was wrong, and since I knew that they had just been visiting Jack, I was worried. Son said he was just phoning to warn me that, just as they were leaving, Scruff had been hit by a car and had died. For a split second there it was huge relief that washed over me, I had thought that something terrible had happened to one of the Grandchildren. Then I heard Daughter-in-Law speaking in the background and from her voice I could tell she was really upset and the relief turned to sadness as son told me how they were all, including Jack, standing in the front garden saying goodbye when Scruff rushed across the road towards them just as a van sped down the normally quiet residential road. Apparently the kitten did try to run but then just fell to the ground, and was dead almost immediately. Son had been holding Jack and as soon as it happened handed him to daughter-in-law who ran inside the house with him on the pretext of looking for something. Jack doesn't know that his little mate, Scruff, is dead, hadn't noticed what happened, and for that I am really happy. How sad, he was a wonderful cat to have with children. As he had grown up with little ones around he was totally unconcerned by their squeals and would tolerate no end of cuddles and tail tweaking. At the birthday party he was rushing around the garden, joining in and chasing the ball as the toddlers were playing football, totally unfazed by the mayhem that was going on around him. When we had got home Hubby had even commented on what a lovely cat he was, and that is quite an accolade as Hubby is not a cat fan, and I had said what a family cat he really was, he had even been in the room when Izzy was born.
This afternoon Hubby and I are going over for Jack's birthday dinner, spag bol, he chose that as his favourite meal. I'm really thankful for that as his Mummy does cook a variety of very healthy, but to me, totally unappealing menu's, good 'old faithful' will go down a treat with boring old Nanny.