It was the week back and we’d all been assigned places that were challenging. My placement was on a ward where all were dying due to alcohol abuse. My mentor assigned me two patients and I would have to care for them during my four week placement, and I was expected to take the “obs”, (Blood pressure, temperature etc) through the day at a regular time. I would be able to administer drugs but under strict observation. It was interesting, but not as interesting as the Christmas week, I spent with one of my patients.
I had two diametrically different patients, one called “Charlie” who, (for my American friends, looked like “Gomer Pyle”, and for the Brits, “Trigger”) was a streaky tall guy, who had no visitors, and spent most of his days on the ward dressed in a “Wee Willy Winky” type night dress, and purple slippers. He did have a dressing gown but rarely wore it. I can’t remember his age but he was older that me, at the time.. He suffered from hallucinations and tremours.
My other patient was a “Stockbroker” type, “Carl”, around 32 and he was dying. He was in the end stage of liver disease, and his skin was yellow and his stomach was so bloated he was unable to close his pajama tops. He was a really nice guy, who through pressures of work. turned to drink as “a crutch” and when he realised it was destroying his marriage, he decided to stop, but by then, it was too late. He was small and due to his stomach swelling, looked chunky.
It was the Christmas week, and we’d got snow, which I liked. The streets looked like they were drowning in peppermint icing, and there were large flakes falling for the steel grey skies. I’d done a week on morning and this was my first week on nights (ever) and I don’t mind telling you, I was crapping myself. The train ran late as the temperature had dropped and the rails had ice on them and it was still snowing. I’d actually planned for this and caught an earlier train, but the bus to the hospital played at aquaplaning in the snow, and so I was a jangle of nerves when I arrived.
During handover, we were informed about how each patient was, and I was told to watch Charlie as he’d been a little “Antsy” but he was fast asleep now and “should be fine”. I was told by my mentor, that nights usually were easy, and she’d get me to write care plans for both “Charlie” and “Karl” and we’d spend the end of the night comparing them to the real thing, as care plans were “the rocks on which we build care”.
The ward was shrouded in dimness, with oases of light from each bay and the nursing stations. there were four nurses on, two were in the office catching up with paperwork, and two on the actual ward. We’d done the first round of “obs” and things were going okay. My mentor told me that she’d fetch my both “Charlie” and “Karl”’s paperwork and the blank care plans and I could get to work, and so for 5 minutes, I was the only “nurse” on the ward.
I was so diligent, my eyes scanned the bays, like spotlights, and I was dreading a ringing of the “Nurse” needed. It was then that I noticed that the curtains around “Charlie”’s bed were moving. They were swaying as if blown by an unseen wind. I’d been told that the “dead” walk the wards were there’s so much death, and so I marched forward, slowly, and pulled “Charlie”’s curtains back only to reveal... no “Charlie”.
I quickly looked around, and noticed the fire escape door was open. I rushed towards it, and hit a wall of snow and ice. It was blizzard conditions out there and we were 3 floors up. I looked down, and there was “Charlie, looking like a refugee from a poor man’s version of “Scrooge”. His hat was blowing with the wind, and I could only see the tops of his purple slippers.
I knew I’d have to get him back in the ward, and so I quickly worked my way down the fire escape, only to realise, that underneath the snow, was a layer of treacherous ice. Things that went through my head at the time. I had visions of slipping and falling and sliding passed “Charlie”. His “junk” waving as I slipped by, and my last view of earth would be “Charlie”’s genitals, as I plunged to my death.
I, though more luck than judgement, caught him, and then he announced he was “going down the pub”. I pointed out that it was 3am, and “the pubs were closed”. This got the reply, “It’s okay, I know where there’s a “shut in” (This is a pub that stays open for the locals, and locks it’s doors) and we’d both be welcome”. and we’d only go for “the one”... I pointed out he wasn’t dressed for it, and he pointed out it was a “festive” outfit. I really didn’t want to be there.
Matters were solved when I informed him, “I’d have to clock out” and I’d book a taxi and at least “we’d be nice and warm when we got to the pub...” and we marched back up to the ward, to meet a concerned mentor, and her words were a little more “Fruity”. “For F**K’s Sake, Charlie, I’m freezing my tits off, and you’ll be looking for a welding torch to put your balls back on..”. We got back on the ward, and my mentor fetched the other two nurses, who took over, while I warmed up, and was told that “I would never forget this” and I never have. Hence me typing this.
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