International Nurses Day May 12th 2022

 On the 12th May each year my timelines on social media, texts, and emails explode with greetings gladly shared between nurses and our colleagues in other roles. It’s the birthdate of Florence Nightingale so a fitting time to reflect. 

Today at Milton Keynes University Hospital we were encouraged to share highlights from our careers with other nurses, particularly those we may not know. This has led to many memories flooding back for me. Over 40 years qualified I’ve had many inspirational nurse colleagues, too many to identify individually, and fortunately only one or two that I’d rather not recall. So here’s a some lines to express my thoughts today.

Nursing life, and death,

have been my lot to be part of.

With love and fire, warmth and damper eyes

Each day remains its own. 

Nursing, my family, my tribe

Making differences for those around us.

Nursing, in times of conflict and in peace,

Demands sacrifice and lives, given without expectation of reply.

Nursing, leaves its mark and life long imprint 

The way to be, and always will be.

Pains of the past

Awakening to realise 
I am closer to me than I thought.
That sleep has been prolonged.

Such scars as there are

Have I thought been hidden.

Discovery of behaviour that

Puts ourselves on show

Makes our marks visible

And signal hurts that still exist.

Reminders in our techno-innocence 

Pop up, tick tocking

Times are passing by.

Flashing recall in cold clarity

Leaves damage after passing.

Healing waves come to soothe,

sculpt, shield fragile fresh layers,

So they provide the identity

That forms me now.

Philip Ball 

7th February 2021

Times of wonder and tears

In these darkened days where seasons slow,

Drear clouds lour overhead 

Tears will fall

Salty warm to frosty cold whilst

Grieving sobs overflow when 

Our best stars are lost from view.

We wonder how low and lost lives can be,

Such anxious struggles in an

Ever changing normality.

Yet witness now the timely wonder 

Of anticipation seen in younger eyes,

Bringing shafts of light to these times where 

Wonderment is holding, and healing,

So such times as now we should grasp 

The fertility of wonder to

Shape the coming year.

Philip Ball, November 2020.

Too painful to laugh

It’s International Nurses Day 2020 and a motivation to digitally pen this piece. I find this COVID-19 time tough; it is tiring and has been something of an emotional experience. 

And that’s just the last week.

Whilst our team have worked hard with courage and resourcefulness, we’ve seen the impact on those dying and witnessed over the phone or via digital media the separation and sorrow on the part of loved ones.

I’ve wondered if I should scream at the sky, let the tears flow (wondering if they’d ever stop), simply wallow on the sofa (plus or minus alcohol) or find the words for a blog.

Apart from the poem below, tweeted about a week ago this will have to do.

Supporting each other has been critical; one of us is at home and able to work though stuck inside except the daily walk. I’m busy having daily interactions with others though each of those conversations has overtones of concern and uncertainty.

Then, personal loss struck through the death of a schooldays contemporary due to COVID. His family are bereft; and so many of us would like to be on hand to support and celebrate the life of Barry. 

And despite the jollity of VE Day and today being International Nurses Day it’s difficult to laugh and feel joyful.

And yet I am sustained today by the kindness of my team who staged an intervention today over their concern for me. Through social media there have been lots of messages broad and personal that have helped. Family members have been fabulous too. 

It’s good to celebrate the positives of nursing, where I’ve been home since 1978. 

I’m glad we can do this; and yet….

It is a painful time, and despite the rhetoric I’m not a hero. I’m simply doing a job I love. I suspect many of us will be reflecting on what it means to nurse, and to be bereaved at this time. 

I guess I could be accused of pouring cold water on this special day; it’s not what I intend. 2020 will remain a topic of discussion (for some); for others it may be just good to survive.

Thank you if you’ve got to here; I hope I’ve not been too negative. 

And I do look forward to laughing again soon.

Today, Was not just another day; A time when COVID anger and angst Brought so close pain and disbelief. And more pain, for those we’ve lost And those we’ve left alone. Tears don’t seem enough, For now they’ll have to do, Until we hold again. #COVID19. Written 5.5.20.

Life.Death.Whatever ... next?

I've wanted to write something about the Life.Death.Whatever. event for over a week now, since making my visit to the National Trust's Sutton House in Hackney where the October long event is being held. There was much to take in so I needed to start before too long goes by.

As I write this remarkable experience is in its last week; the creators and curators Louise Winter  and  Anna Lyons deserve praise and awards for the rich content that has gone into the exhibition. 
Use the website to see the ideas and contents of the exhibition; I'd like to reflect a little on my visit. I was able to attend the Good Funeral weekender where a variety of funeral providers and celebrants interacted with visitors set amongst the installations. I've included some pictures below.
I was able to reflect on the death of my father and who he was to me. This was really helpful as I come to understand who I am, and be at peace with what our relationship had as well as what was missed. Dad died 12 years ago and I'm conscious too that I am possibly - as has been mentioned recently - turning into my father. Given his health deteriorated with dementia progressing to dying aged 77 I'd prefer a different ending. Whatever ending that will be, Life Death Whatever helped me rethink how ones life can be celebrated as it ends and in terms of what happens when death happens. I realised we did a good thing in celebrating dad and his life; more recent family funerals have also been uplifting in terms of celebration rather than extreme somber-ness.
It's time to consider how I'd like to be remembered at the time of farewell; this requires thought and discussion with my loved ones. It will need financial planning and careful consideration; I have lots of music I'd like to include as well as some words to say, that is to have said. The great thing I learned on my visit was that there are many creative people who are willing to help with the farewell planning of an individualised event. 
From the coffin ball pit, the paintings, sculptures, digital recordings, talks and creative cocktails plus NT type tea coffee and cakes LifeDeathWhatever was thought provoking, challenging of traditional 
funeral rites, and a beautiful way to consider what we might like to do when death comes. After life there's death, and to save an awkward Whatever for those who are left behind, I suggest you get planning.
Thanks and congratulations go to all involved with LifeDeathWhatever; it will have affected people in many ways and I'm just describing one of the areas that it's had impact on me. I hope the team will be able to take LifeDeathWhatever forward; the openness of the conversations should however be all the responsibility of all of us. 

Louise Winter

Perspiration, inspiration, and poetry

Once again I find myself drawn to other sources of inspiration; social media has provided the contact method, using it has been key. That's what's led to the perspiration on my part, modest though that has been.

Dr Kate Granger with her husband Chris Pointon have through their sharing of Kate's experience of advancing cancer been a source of admiration and great ideas; the ultimate being "#hello my name is..." and I was amongst the audience on the last of the roadshows they did last year spreading the word. Out of that alongside my efforts to be more creative, came a poem about Kate and the "#hello my name is..." project. I am convinced more of us should make time for exploring other avenues of expression and outlets for thoughts. Blogs themselves can be a way to say what we're thinking; as I get older I'm keener to explore creative avenues that were not so well developed when I was at school though that is a whole different story. 

Instead I'd like to leave you with the poem I wrote after meeting Kate and Chris last year. Kate has seen the poem and this was the perspiring moment for me; I know now Kate is okay with what I've written. Not only do I want to share my thoughts through this poem, I hope it may inspire readers to explore other routes of expression for themselves.

Kate’s vision – “#hello my name is …” or The Wakefield Wonder

Standing strong
Staring life in the face,
 going only half the distance
Ambition defying the gravity pull of death.

Beyond the expectations of the 
‘experts’
Her medical skills are for others, yet
So needing others now.

Hello my name is – makes us
smile though that’s not
the whole intent.

Touch and calm,
Pace is mine, and your focus
on the person.

With Messiah like drive you push
onwards, touching lives
touching, us, 
Giving the lie to dying
for living still
You make your mark.

An imprint of a modern making,
a Twitter born legacy
that Must leave us 
better people.

Philip Ball, 
24/06/15 2205 hours

Michael Rosen poem Chair

http://michaelrosenblog.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/new-poem-chair.html?spref=tw