Milk rations for nurses

So, as anyone who’s been following my self-pity wallowing facebook updates this last week will know (in detail) that I ended up in hospital for an unplanned appendicitis last Sunday.

It started with a stomach ache on Sunday morning, which I put down to a late night extra chilli chicken mixed kebab, but it continued to get worse,  so I decided to do the thing that every doctor must hate, and self diagnosed an appendicitis using the internet.

To be fair, when I answered 4 questions and the answer the NHS site came back with was GO TO THE HOSPITAL NOW (in red) I decided to called a taxi.  Lucky for me, the taxi driver had gone through the same thing and understood the urgency, unluckily for me he was also the slowest taxi driver in Bournemouth, and insisted on telling me how painful it was going to be.

Now here’s the thing about the NHS, people complain about it, but I’ve said it before, when it’s an emergency they are the best, it’s a simple as that.  At reception I said “I think it’s my appendix” and they instantly rushed passed the 3 hour waiting list of drunks and skinheads covered in blood

It didn’t stop there, a nurse who knew about appendixes came to see me straight away, tapped me a couple of times on the stomach then tilted the bed backwards because I was going to pass out from the pain, she joked with me, called me a wimp, saying that only girls faint from pain but she did it to keep me talking

They booked the surgery for the same day and a surgeon came in on his day off to do it, they finished at 11pm and I woke up at 1am in a recovery room on my own with two nurses who were only there to monitor and look after me, they had finished for the night but had been asked to stay on – at this point I think I told one with big brown eyes that I loved her

On the ward the nurses were amazing, I slept a lot but they had to wake me up regularly to change drips, take blood, give me pills or stop me snoring, they didn’t do it with a shout of a shove, they did it with a gentle stroke on the arm, even when it was 3 or 4 am they were still kind and caring.

There were some downsides, firstly I won’t lie, the food in hospital is still the worst thing I’ve ever seen, we had a Russian guy serving food on our ward and I swear he must have been ex army, used to cooking up whatever he found in the field, I didn’t eat anything for almost a week

Then there were the other patients, some of whom where great, but some who were total and utter pricks.  The guy in the bed next to me complained about everything, including the jelly which he said “tasted like it came from a packet”, I hated him so much I actually lay awake one night contemplating strangling him with my IV drip to give the nurses a break

But here’s the worse bit, the thing that made me so angry I tried to get out of bed and walk to the hospital shop, despite the fact I couldn’t yet make it to the bathroom

One morning, the nurses were all upset and talking, I asked Kerry who was on my ward what was wrong and she told me that management had issued an email stating that Nurses were to cut back to one ration of milk a day for themselves to save money, and they have to reply to confirm their agreement

When I went to sleep they were there, when I woke up they were there, they were patient and kind to everyone on the ward – even the prick, and in return they get war time rations on their personal milk allowance?

It wouldn’t take much to fix the NHS, the people on the ground level aren’t the problem, they go above and beyond every day, usually for no more money, the problem is the disconnection between them, and the accountants who think that 5p per milk severing per nurse per day will save the whole system

If it comes to it I’ll place an order for milk to be delivered to them every day, and if they need anything else, I’d do that as well, its people like nurses who remind us how much better we could all treat each other

- bod

Pale moon rising

At roughly the same time every month (about now) my mum calls me and the conversation goes something like

Me – hi Mum

Mum – hi, just thought I’d call... see how you are

Me - I’m ok, all good, why?

Mum - well... it’s a full moon, you always go a bit err...funny when it’s a full moon

It sounds like an odd thing to say to your oldest child, but she really believes it’s true, not that I turn into some kind of crazed, human eating werewolf, just that my mood swings around now.

And why shouldn't it, the gravitational pull of the moon controls the tides of the ocean, the flow of warm currents around the planet, and it’s position acts as a stabiliser to keep the earth on the same tilted axis, why shouldn't it affect one incy wincy human being?

A  woman’s period is sometimes called her “moon flow” because for some woman it settles into a natural harmony with the full moon, I want to stress that I’m not an expert in this particular subject, just something I read

So, does the moon affect our moods?  I think it does, in the last few days I’ve been angry, uptight and ready to argue with anyone, it’s now 4:19am and I can’t sleep, my senses are heightened, and I can tell it’s full moon time without looking up or getting the phone call

Call me crazy if you want, but look at what's happening around you, at yourself, how do you feel right now?

- bod

WMD's? My friend has two of them

As I write this I have a throat infection and its horrible, it’s horrible because it’s not really an illness, more of an inconvenience, but it does make eating, drinking, swallowing, sleeping and talking all very uncomfortable

It’s also not a very good reason to take a sick day from work, but what can you do if you can’t talk and you work in sales? So I've sat here today, drinking Lensips and feeling sorry for myself - rather than the rest of the country

I've had chance to watch the rolling coverage of the riots, the long hours filled with no real new information, just a lot of speculators speculating and experts experting.  Seems like we can blame anything from the police, the government, students, a few instigators, the rich, the poor, the black the white, ourselves, the economy, video games and god knows what else, I haven’t got a clue

I’m not an expert or a speculator, and of course I don’t agree with what’s happening, but there must be something behind the unrest – several people have said that its been bubbling under the surface for a while, and I think they may have something, if people feel oppressed or overlooked for long enough there will come a breaking point

Of course plenty of the rioters are in it for some new trainers, a TV or an iPhone, one group looted a charity shop which seems like bad planning, maybe some of them just they want to fight the police and burn the world

Luckily it hasn't spread to Bournemouth yet, and given the average age of our residents is 71 I don’t think it will (unless they decide to knock over Garla bingo), but if it does start here I have a plan.

I mentioned at the beginning my throat infection, well I caught it from one of my friends kids on Saturday.  I don’t know which one but I do know that children are walking chemical weapons; every time I see them I catch something my immune system’s forgotten how to fight

So, if riots do flare up here I think we should just send in a few snot covered kids, give it a couple of days and everyone will give up, who wants to fight the power when you've got a sore throat and cold?

- bod

The art of negotiation

From my previous blogs you may have worked out that I’m in sales, in fact I work in corporate software sales, a cut and thrust environment of dog eat dog (or more precisely rat eat rat), doing deals with senior people in large companies and generally whoring myself out for the money

After numerous sales training courses and fifteen years experience I’ve become quite good at negotiating, I can recognise personality types quickly and adjust my approach, I understand different techniques, friendly, pre-emptive, aggressive, fear of loss, fear of failure, ego building etc...

For the most part I’m good at it, but this week I met someone with less than two years experience who completely outplayed me, he won every argument, got everything he wanted, all with three simple words “no” “train” and “bot bot”

This natural genius is the two year old son of my cousin Krystal (called Brandon) who came to visit, an example of his radical new approach: - we took him to the beach, he saw the train ride and wanted to go on it

Brandon – train

Me – not now, we’re going on the beach, you’ll like the beach

Brandon – train

Me – we’ll go later I promise, let’s just go on the beach for a bit

Brandon – TRAIN – TRAIN -TRAIN - TRAIN

Me – look, shouting’s not going to get you anywhere, you’ll just have to wait...

Brandon – TRAAAAAAAAIN - TRAAAAAAAAIN - TRAAAAAAAAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me – for fucks sake, ok fine

And so on, “bot bot” is bottle, and if that or “train” didn’t fit he would just fall back on “no”, how do you argue with someone who’s got such a non-comprising approach?

I’ve got a meeting with a board member of a large aerospace company next week and I’m going to give this approach a try, just those three words and a can-do attitude, let’s see how he handles the moment were discussing discounts and I start screaming “BOT-BOT”!!!

- Bod

(I’d just like to add, I had a really great time, thank you Krystal and Brandon for coming, and Fi, it was lovely to see you again) xxx