“We apologise for this late arrival...”

 So now it is 2025 and I have decided to return to a refreshed blog. The last year has been a trial of my (mainly physical) health. I needed steroids to dampen down polymyalgia rheumatica which brought on steroid induced diabetes.  I am now steroid free, the blood sugars on my low carb, full fat diet are much lower (see freshwell) and my weight has stabilised at what is about right for my height.  During all this I've awaited two relatively minor surgeries. The NHS is so good it is said when an emergency arises. The wait for non-emergency (elective) surgery, is often long which is frustrating, and at times costly, in terms of keeping comfortable and safe whilst waiting. 

In the last couple of weeks I have had my prostate reduced, it is expected to be cancer free but awaiting confirmation of that. It didn't go quite as expected so an uncomfortable week went by whilst I did my best to drink the world dry. All is beginning to get to get better now and for that I am very grateful. I had however to push to get the surgery done as I need a hernia fixing too. The local hospital was getting ready to do that but I had been told the prostate needing fixing first. There was no inter-departmental communication between surgical specialties that would have helped avoid the delays. This patient has had to do the organising. Given the level of computer based record keeping that exists it adds another layer of frustration.

So you can see why there's been an impact on what I call my mental health too. That being so the last 12 months have not been without bright spots too. There have been travels to see good friends, and taking forward my ambition to do more drawing and painting. Canada, New Zealand, France have been further destinations, while Brighton and Bath have been examples closer to home. In two of that list we saw friends who have since died. Whilst immensely sad about Tim and Chris, who are greatly missed, we were pleased to have spent time with them.

Even closer to home was a Garden Party at Buckingham Palace which on an warm sunny May day was most enjoyable. As ever though the joy of being granddad stands out. Making a den in the back garden, getting messy with flour while making biscuits, singing, train rides, and sharing stories are part of that picture.

Using stories to help understand death, dying, hospice care, and nursing is something I got used to. And a new development opportunity has arisen through the Anne Robson Trust. I have been recruited as a freelance trainer for the 'Simple Wisdom' course they offer. It‘s given me something else to look forward to, as I share examples from my life to help others develop confidence when death and dying arises in their lives. It's never too late to learn about these things, so it is timely unlike this blog piece that's taken too long to come along.

A leap year time to refresh

 I’m writing now after a period of finding it difficult to keep up the blog following mum’s death in late 2022. I have found myself wondering where time has gone as two Christmas times have gone by since then. Now is a time to try again, in doing so I want to update you with news of change.

I am getting closer to relinquishing my registration as a nurse. It was approximately 46 years ago I eventually decided working in shops, offices, and potentially being an accountant were not for me. I’d already thought about nursing and delayed starting training by about a year. The pressure to go to night school to take up accountancy from my BBC boss led me to re-apply for nurse training.

Now I have given up direct nursing and managerial roles I plan to retire from my paid role in the health sector. The recent opportunities to make a difference have come in a variety of ways. I’ve seen a young, committed person develop into a nurse enjoying working in palliative care. Not the first I’ve seen; they have worked so hard on the long route to registration giving me hope for nursing’s future. I’ve seen services develop around @AnneRobsonTrust Butterfly volunteers being with the dying in our Acute trust. I’d started negotiations over this before the pandemic. So glad it’s come to fruition. My time as a Freedom to Speak Up Guardian @NatGuardianFTSU has also been one of developing the space in which people can come forward to tell their stories, as well as influence the Trust to invest further in the role in the coming year. It has been a valuable time personally too.

So, come the end of March 2024 I will no longer be a Registered Nurse. It feels the time is right to let go and step back. I want to use my energy in other ways though not all clearly defined yet. One change will be the end of @PhilBallRN on X (Twitter) as I’ll keep up with @philipraball where I can still comment and share without misleading anyone. Feel free to switch by the end of March or stop following as you wish. My other social media channels are not likely to alter if you follow them.

Thank you to followers of @PhilBallRN – there have been chats and sharing of some awesome experiences. It’s been a place where friendships have been forged, mainly through @WeNurses and associated communities. Whilst being a retired nurse sounds old, I don’t feel that way, and I’d like you to feel free to keep in touch as I want to keep learning, laughing, and loving what I do. And it will help me with fresh blog ideas too.

 

My last International Nurses Day 2023

 

It’s International Nurses Day, 2023

It is a sudden watershed for me. Since December last year I have not been in a nursing role, as I now work part time as a Freedom To Speak Up Guardian. A role that is not without challenges it has its positives too. It often feels like I’m nursing the Acute trust I work in.

This piece is more about me and Nursing. It started in the late 1970’s when I had tried different kinds of work, (shops and offices) and needed to find something I thought I could stick at. The initial enquiry about nursing arose form a suggestion by a lady called Eileen I worked with in a catering job. By the time commuting to an office at the BBC[1] began to pall, I applied for a training place and was given an interview. Accepted, by both parties my training started in 1978. My learning has not stopped since.

Early on I recognised the Nursing was a ‘home’ for me, and that I might be able to stick at it in the long term. Working with those near the end of their lives appealed and that was the focus of my career for the last 30 or so years of it, in hospitals and hospices.

I’ve met all sorts of interesting people, in a variety of places, from Richmond House to Kemerovo in Siberia and South Africa. And even now it’s a joy to meet new people and later today I’ll be meeting student nurses to tell them about Freedom To Speak Up.

I have decided though that I will not renew my registration as a Registered nurse when it is due for renewal next. Nursing has been a great place to be and is something I remain interested in. With other calls on my time, I want to be able to give attention to family and friends as well as myself.

I pass on to anyone new to anyone new to nursing the one thing I have learnt over my career is to look after oneself. Physical – your feet and back, mentally – recognising depression for example, and spiritually keeping eyes open to opportunities for joy.

Enjoy IND 2023 and give thanks for those who have nursed before us, trained us, developed us and who are going into nursing now.

[1] With Eurovision fever high at present, whilst at the BBC I got to bump into ABBA in the door at Broadcasting House whilst at the height of their fame.

D90 Bridging the gap in #100WorkingDays

 Some of you will recall following my blog about my past and adventures that led me into nursing. Sadly the blog series came to a halt at the end of October ‘22 when my mum became unwell and died on the 1st November.

I’ve not written here since D58, and now this evening it’s D90. And the theme I’d chosen for today when setting up the blog was Sharing stories. So now’s a good time to tell a few, from my history as well as more recent. I love learning from stories and have always enjoyed hearing about the experiences of patients and what they’ve done. Going back a while a long term friend of mum and dad told me in a recent letter that she knew I’d won a beautiful baby competition. Not sure what the prize was and where this took place - south London somewhere I guess. I’ve asked for more details just in case they can remember. Of course my sister and me will have lots of stories to go over and recall to pass on to our grandchildren. 

More recently I’d caught up with story telling work that NHS England are working on as a way to help share the experiences of patients and their families. The Patient experience network is gathering such stories in a digital format. These are about having an approach that allows the people concerned to tell and have ownership of their story. They can say if they allow the story to be shared, to educate healthcare workers for example. Sometimes they like to keep the recording private as a way of having a record to pass on to their families. My involvement led to a story being shared by a hospital audience that included nurses and allied health professionals. Also present were the Chair of the Trust and an Executive. The impact of hearing the story has already led to changes, with more to come. Speaking up about our experiences, sharing our story however it played out is a powerful reminder to others of the impact that both poor care and good care will be remembered. 

People’s stories are easily visible on social media these days. I wonder what we have lost in them meantime. The WW1 survivor I met in the 1970s who’d been in the navy yet served on the Western front. He was a gunner and the early tanks apparently had small naval guns fitted. Sadly though I tried no one wanted to take notice at the time. I’ve had wonderful story tellers in my learning experiences and they have helped me appreciate the power of a story. My mum enjoyed a good story, the pile of books at her house is a reminder of that as she was re-reading all of Charles Dickens. Whatever you’re doing this Christmas take time to think about your story, and what the story of those you meet might be. 

We set up a memory book for mum, a place for stories.

D53 #100WorkingDays Making it one to one

 The opportunity arose to change role and expand my knowledge by working in the combined ICU (Intensive Care unit) and CCU (Coronary Care unit) that was the original set up at MKUH. There was much to learn and adapt to. On the ICU we spent time with one patient during the shift, completing the tasks and focused on delivering the necessary care. Alongside that we would meet their families and have to explain what we were doing as we nursed these unwell people. 

Emergencies would occur as patient’s conditions could change. I soon learnt to adopt a tone of voice that would give the Sister a warning I was concerned about my patient. It meant a quick response and action was taken. On some days you held the ‘crash’ bleep. That was the one for attending a cardiac arrest call. It meant a dash to the scene, most often to Accident and Emergency. Sadly not everyone survived. There were those patients who were recovering from surgery who would go on to the wards and recover. A serious infection might have meant a stay too. We tried to celebrate important days for the patients such as their birthdays. I recall getting requests played on local radio, and making an effort around Christmas time to brighten the place up. Respectful team work was essential and the norm for most of the time.

The CCU was another place of learning as we were taught to record then interpret ECG recordings. The patients were monitored whilst in the unit which was helpful if they began to experience an arrhythmia. We had one consultant who tried to teach on ward rounds but his style could make the rounds frightening. That was unfortunate, though a good lesson on how not to do things.  

By MoodyGroove - 2007-01-24 (original upload date)Original uploader was MoodyGroove at en.wikipedia, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5266589

D43 #100WorkingDays Mr Ball SRN

 Now qualified I was a staff nurse. I had experience in a couple of wards during training that I wanted to work on. Fortunately there were posts available and I started on a medical ward, that specialised in respiratory diseases. Tuberculosis was still rife and we often had to help people start the therapy that would last 6 months. Old soldiers had malaria, and lung cancer was a frequent diagnosis. 

One of the consultants ran a chest clinic and would attend on a ward round once a week, to break the news of lung cancer. Once the round was finished he’d return to the ward office where Sister provided coffee, and he lit a cigarette, going on to chain smoke. An illustration of the power the consultants had. 

Meanwhile I was learning more about managing a ward, and caring for staff and students. There were differing styles of working by the Sisters; some tidy, some not. There were the Nursing Officers as Matrons had been seen as an outmoded role. They were a varied lot too. After a year or so I moved to a surgical ward and began another round of learning. Surgery has changed much in terms of techniques and shortened length of stay. Even so every surgery carries risk though much less for many procedures than in the past. As my nursing experience grew I knew deep down there was more to learn and explore, especially as palliative and end of life care was still on my radar.

D38 #100WorkingDays Being myself

 Quite soon into my nurse training I realised the importance of making space for myself. I guess it was what we’d call mindfulness these days. I started some running with fellow students. At the back of the Colindale nurses home we could get into the local park and enjoy a circular run. We could also walk to and from work, or occasionally use the tube for one stop. 

Knowing there was life outside work was something I’d brought with me from my experiences. So I wanted to hear music, and be entertained. The cinema was a good place to go, as a day off in the week meant a partially filled screening. Another treat was going to Cecil Sharp House the home of English folk song and dancing. It was cheap and a great deal of fun. 

Eventually I found a balance through reading and travel to see friends, and occasionally having a big sleep. My confidence in myself grew too. The friendships at work were important with evenings (and occasional lunches) in the social club too. Meanwhile we were all developing as nurses and finding our niche for the future. For me there was definitely a sense of purpose I’d not had before.

 

©️Cecil Sharp House

D37 #100WorkingDays Nursing as a profession

 So now I’m immersed in Nursing, and working towards becoming registered. There are lots of things to learn and practical skills to acquire. I found it useful to know something of the current news, and important sports results each morning. These gave me an opening to conversations with those in my care. Sharing a little of my self too could be helpful. And being visibly confident even when inside I was wasn’t was a trick to acquire.

Nursing quickly became a comfortable place to be, even during my training. Even now the precise reason for that is unclear. If following this blog series you’ll know I didn’t plan on Nursing as a career from a young age. I’ve known some nurses for which that early drive and passion never left them. 

Here I was almost accidentally. Since then I’ve enjoyed (mostly) a fascinating time, with travel and meeting all sorts of folk along the way.I still enjoy thinking of the nursing family and how that has developed. Specialisms, advancing practice, and changes in regulation have all come along. Now we can communicate through Twitter and share via chats through @WeNurses for example. And then there’s the friendships, connections that have endured.

D35, #100WorkingDays The Northern life line

 The September start date loomed and my colleagues at the BBC were bemused by my career switch. For me having had some ‘real life’ experience was going to prove useful once I started training. I’d been used to trying to fit in GP and dental appointments, though the flexible working was helpful in that regard. One thing the BBC gave you time for was donating blood, and our office was close to the west end Donor centre.

The last week came round and my last day saw an enormous gift wrapped box on my desk. Post lunch it looked exciting. Opening it revealed a second box, a little smaller than the first, and so on until I got to one small box, containing a nursing fob watch, with my name engraved on the back. It was immensely touching and a treasured souvenir of my time there. Now to abandon the Bakerloo and home via Waterloo, I was going to take up residence it seemed on the Northern line. 

Home was at Morden the southern end of the Northern line, and training was to take place in Edgware. Whether via Charing Cross or Bank the trip for days off could takes ages. On starting I took a kettle, mugs and tea bags in the belief milk would be easy to come by. That way the first evening could be social over a cuppa. That first day our set was spread around 3 locations of accommodation, distributed by a minibus. Soon we were in class, and getting familiar with the locality as well as the rhythms of hospital life. Being the new set we were under scrutiny by the other students and tutors. We had fittings for uniforms, recruiting by Unions, and taking up membership of the Social Club. Our nursing adventure had begun.

D33 #100WorkingDays First impressions on getting closer

 I was now in a position at the BBC where I could commit to sponsored training as an accountant, or seek an alternative. At this point nursing came to mind, and the one Nurse training school who had offered me an interview. Having turned them down initially for an interview they were kind enough to wish me good luck. So, time to approach them? 

I phoned and got through to a cheerful clerk who said she must have my previous letter and details somewhere. She would look them out, and if I’d not heard in a fortnight (using the post patience was required) to call again. About 10 days later they repeated the offer of an interview in that May. It was now time to give this serious thought, and I approached a couple of ex-nurses I knew through my parents. They were supportive but warned that it was a big commitment that if I walked away from it during training I may regret doing so.

I was conscious that the family had mostly educators by profession and I’d not really wanted to be join them. There was enough school talk at weekends. So I thought I was being original in going into Nursing. I’d forgotten my great Aunt, and Great Grandma had nursed, as had my mother’s cousin who nursed in WW2. Sadly on coming home from Ceylon the plane carrying her and other nurses crashed in India in 1946, and they all perished.

Now it was time for the interview. I travelled up to north London on the tube, very far from my south London roots. I recall little of the interview, I was asked why I wanted to nurse, I must have said something credible. I was asked about the latest book I’d read too. I was embarrassed as it was the book of a film I’d recently seen and not great literature. They must have liked me enough as an offer to join the next ‘set’ in September 1978 arrived a few days later.

D30 #100WorkingDays Dipping my toes in

 Picking up the thread of career choice nursing had been suggested. It was a surprise suggestion that nonetheless intrigued me. Without the internet I needed to find out more. At some point I’d found out there was a NHS careers office on the Edgware Road, near Marble Arch. A tube trip beckoned. 

On arrival a Matron, am sure she was, in full uniform rig, cape and so on was clearly disturbed by my entry. Even worse for her was my albeit vague interest in nursing. Cross questioning on my scholastic achievements followed. Blog readers will know these had not been vast in number. I was proud of being able to cook and run a restaurant I could see these weren’t winning her over. 

Eventually Matron told me there were several paces I couldn’t train as they didn’t take men, and also several that would not want me on account of no ‘A’ levels. A list of alternatives to contact was produced and I recall a swift escort to the door. Matron, I think, was pondering the downfall of nursing when the likes of me were thinking about joining. So began a round of letter writing. Waiting for replies was nearly fruitless. Of the five Nursing Training schools I wrote to, only one replied to offer an interview. They had taken their time though, and I’d started an office job in the meantime. Nursing was having to wait.

D29 #100WorkingDays A little trouble

On top of my career dilemma I’d needed a little time in hospital for a small procedure that required a general anaesthetic. A couple of nights in were required in the end as it took a good while for me to wake up enough to know where I was. And yet, despite covering for a coworker in the Delicatessen who been in hospital, and completing the project work on hospital catering I’d not yet settled on pursuing a nursing career.

A few years earlier my dad had the cataract he developed in one eye removed and a lens implanted. He needed to spend some days lying in bed afterwards. Visiting was limited in those days. Indeed as a baby I’d had to spend a few days in hospital and parents were allowed a hour to visit. So glad that in the end changes were made to that. 

And prior to this was our family GP. He was a single handed practice, from Northern Ireland with a matching accent. The surgery hand strange smells, cigarettes, a whiff of surgical spirit, and possibly on occasion another spirit. He was at the beck and call of his patients. And going to see him meant venturing into the waiting room and taking your turn. That said the wait never seemed to be that long. And there was a level of knowing our history that made his care seem personal. And all this was on an NHS that wasn’t quite 10 years old when I was born.

D28 #100WorkingDays Changing course

 A new direction was needed as I metaphorically started to pick up my bags and leave the bank and possibly catering. Having resigned there were discussions with my bank colleagues. A number of options were presented. I can’t remember them all. One colleague was called Eileen and to my surprise she suggested nursing as a possibility.

Eileen thought I’d make a good nurse. I was bemused but added it to my list. I had to maintain some income and as it happened my delicatessen colleagues needed someone to help out. One of the quartet who worked there needed a spell in hospital so they offered me a job to cover while I sorted what I wanted to do. They set me up to be paid properly too, and generously let me have time off for interviews as needed. At this time, there seems to be lots of options for me to consider. Perhaps office work might be a better bet? 

Counting down 100 working days

 As we move into July I’ve realised that I’m facing the last 100 or so working days in my Lead nurse role. Some have started new roles with 100 day blogs; I thought I’d try a reflection on each of my last 100 working days. 

I know I’ve been an intermittent blogger so this is a challenge for me, though I hope not for you as reader. I want to reflect on the changes I’ve seen, the experiences that came my way, and the people whose paths I have crossed. I hope it helps to record these things in order to make sense of them and to provide a glimpse of how life has been over the decades I’ve lived and worked.

Looking forward I plan to keep in paid employment as a Freedom to Speak Guardian at MKUH. This means keeping in touch with wider issues in order to help staff members and the organisation get the best out of the relationship. But more on that another day.

Day 1 done. 

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.

Love, life, death, whatever.

I had originally started this piece in March this year (2021). Three months later it is time to finish and publish. The delay? Coming to terms with my professional life in nursing and the after effects of the pandemic. The stories associated with our experiences will need space to be told, and this is another part of my journey.

The three reads…. I’ve been fortunate to recently receive 3 books that in some way cover life, death, love, and some of the whatever’s that come along with these themes.

Loves and life get great coverage in Michael Rosen’s Many Different Kinds of Love.

A memoir of his experience of Covid-19, nearly dying and recovery includes his poetry and the remarkable diary entries of those who cared for him when he was in ITU. What was effecting is the insight he gives to being the person in need of care.

His poetry forms a large part of the narrative. These poems will be useful to reflect the perspective of being reliant for the intensive care that the very sickest of us will experience.

That care was delivered to many in the Covid-19 pandemic, though many did not survive.

One of those to die was a friend of mine from school days, and the writing in Michael’s book helped me understand the efforts that were made to care for them even though that did not end happily.

Dying and death have bigger parts in Erica Buist’s This Party’s Dead. A crowdfunded book, I liked the idea and ended up with biscotti to enjoy.

Following the death of her father in law Erica had to find ways to understand her reaction to the grief that unexpectedly consumed her. The resulting book comes from her subsequent visits to seven death festivals around the globe. This is an uplifting tale of her journeys and discovering how the dead loved ones are cared for and revered. Certainly an eye opener, it makes me wonder how we can be less uptight about death and dying in the UK.

So we come to We all know how this ends.

Anna Lyons and Louise Winter have pulled together a remarkable collection of information and shared experiences. Many of these are the experiences of others who have generously allowed the retelling. Taking from their inspired ‘five things’ and the ‘Life, Death, Whatever’ events the book adds up to be a powerful instrument for those thinking and planning about the future and the way our lives might end and be celebrated. The challenge to the conventional funeral model is where we can find much to inspire. Helping too as life ends, the work of end of life doulas reminds that often it is the overlooked details of living that need tending until our last breath.

These are books that have contents to treasure and will repay re-reading. I admire the candid nature of sharing by the authors and their contributors. COVID-19 or not, our lives will end. How we are remembered, and how we can choose to influence that are part of the work of each of our lives, whatever.

A to Z and stops between

It is the end of October as I publish this piece. As a Freedom to Speak Up Guardian I have been engaging with the National Guardian’s Office campaign for #SpeakUpMonth and #SpeakUpABC via Twitter.

With the help of our communications department I have been able to put up a fresh letter every day except Sundays and today, the 30th October hence this blog.

As a relatively new Guardian I have enjoyed seeing the considerable efforts other Guardians have gone to in order to promote Freedom to Speak Up. It has inspired me to do better next year.

In the meantime I have had important contact with groups at work such as our BAME network, and some management teams to get further engagement and raise the profile of the Guardian role.

Alongside that the growing team of potential Guardians and Champions have been coming up with ideas for supporting the culture of Freedom to Speak Up in our Trust. It makes for an interesting year ahead.

Another speaking engagement this week had me sharing my nursing career story with band 6 leaders from across Trust departments. It was good to be able to share thoughts on leadership and how my life has been shaped since school days, and how I came ‘home’ to nursing. Our Trust strives to be supporting us as we face the work COVID-19 brings, making efforts to listen to staff members and has acted for example, with the opening of the new permanent staff hub this week. The listening that has taken place is important and encourages people to speak up. This is good in October for Speak Up Month. It is in the rest of the year that we need to continue to support all, from A to Z to speak up, and allow them to be heard with respect and gratitude for the courage they show in coming forward.

 

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.

The tea bag, pencil and toffee penny

Having a lead nurse role involves all sorts of activities. The other day I found myself carrying a tea bag, pencil and toffee penny towards my office. I wondered what to make of that handful. No great idea for a blog came to me then. 

In the last few days I’ve learnt more about what can go wrong, and how we can sort things out on wards in hospitals just by listening to people.

My heart felt heavy about what I’d heard; now I have to write a report on what happened and what I’ve heard. 

Being a lead nurse is not always gazing at the bright shiny business development plans that I might have pencilled in.

As a lead nurse I have lots of people in my care. The team I’m in are great fun to work with, who work very hard. Part of each day is dedicated often implicitly to looking after ourselves, by having drinks and making sure we stop for a lunchtime break. One way to support them is to make the drinks; a simple job (if I remember who wants decaf black coffee, who likes their tea dark with a dash of milk, all in the right mugs) that’s one way to show support. Making sure I have a cuppa on occasion means dipping into the tea bag tin.

The lead nurse sets the tone for the team, and those they come into contact with. There are the days when our Palliative and end of life work will seem heavy. Even so there’s often an opportunity to celebrate some small positive piece of news and to share a gift from a thankful manager or service user. This Christmas, as happened to many others, we were given some sweets as a way to acknowledge our efforts. Amongst the treats were a selection that included toffee pennies, for which I have a little weakness.

Life as a lead nurse is certainly varied; always interesting and with things to learn. The tea bag, pencil and toffee penny have all served to remind me of that variety and that even from such a disparate handful there will be lessons to learn and even a theme for my 100th blog piece.

How will I shape the year of the nurse and midwife?

It’s New Year’s Day and I’ve seen a challenge to take up. Set by @BloggersNurse as we start the Year of the Nurse and Midwife I am planning on trying to write at least once or twice a month in 2020 on the themes suggested. 

January 1st and I’m thinking about how I will shape the year of the nurse (and midwife, please note I mean to be inclusive). 

It’s 41 years since I entered nurse training; my shape and that of nursing and midwifery have altered. Overall, the two professions have fared better shape-wise than me.

I trained to become a State Registered Nurse (SRN) in England, moving into a profession held in high regard. 

There’s been the transition to degree based learning, and recently apprenticeship programs. All routes opening to a career of varied opportunity. 

What shaping influence can I have? The immediate one as a senior and experienced nurse is as an example of being open, kind and flexible. 

I have to be open about how I work, and be prepared to let others lead where they have ideas and strengths that I don’t possess. Be ready to adapt and adopt fresh thinking and take risks to make gains in service improvement.

I want to be kind and even kinder, to all those in my care. This will be patients as well as my team colleagues, and those in the wider care community in which I work and have a social media presence. In particular it’s those who are exploring the possibility of nursing as a career, or already in training, to whom I should be an example. Showing enjoyment and enthusiasm for our work, and giving such people time will help them be great nurses of the future.

I need to be flexible; my career has had twists and turns; some hoped for and some unexpected. This has helped me appreciate the opportunity of being ready to try something new; to allow me to be trusted by people such as team members when they require some wriggle room - flexible working to allow for family issues for example.

Applying this to shaping the year of Nurse and Midwife? 

Being an example, supporting those I come into contact with and reaching out through social media. 

Embracing and getting involved in events to celebrate nursing, and show the value of nursing work to those who question what nursing is.

Supporting those I work with to look at what we do, and see how the work can be done differently. Getting them to speak up, in person, in blogs and engage in further education so they can be shaping too.

Change happens; being prepared to influence the outcome is a way I can contribute to the year of the nurse and midwife in 2020 and beyond.