Back on the ward, and Claire tells me to do the care plan for Karl. It’s about time I described the ward. The best description, would be Victorian, and as you enter, you see 3 patient rooms on the right, on the left, there’s a room, for patient’s family to grieve in, a sluice, a small rest/break room, for the nurses, and finally, (well imagine The tablet room from “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest”, as it was virtually it’s twin.) Not used for tablets, as we had a tablet round, and two nurses delivered to your bedside, with a smile.
Down the right side of the ward (Male side) 6 beds, with a fire escape next to Charlie (Probably not a good idea after, my night on said fire escape). Down the right hand side, 5 beds. Karl was first bed on left, (as you walked in) And Charlie was fourth on the right. The ward was separated by a wall and a pair of central doors, and this lead to the ladies section of the ward. It was a repeat pattern on their side, with a door leading to the bathrooms and showers. The windows where cathedral like, and had large blinds that were drawn at night, and were central to each pair of beds.
I went, dragged a chair next to Karl’s bed, and began.
I found out the general gist of things, and wrote it down. Karl was an accountant, 32 years old, a beautiful wife, and two kids, (both girls). He loathed his job, as it seemed everybody was trying to buck the tax office. Those that had reasons he helped, gladly but those who’d got money and wanting him to find out ways of making more money, made him feel sick, and he started to drink.
It was fine at first, he’d have just the one “to calm him down”. It got worse, and it soon became 3 or 4, and he’d be “calm enough to go home”. Then came the accident, he nearly pranged his car, and came home bleeding. His wife smelt the drink on his breath, and insisted that he needed help, “as she didn’t want her kids to be orphans”.
He went to the meetings, and thing were going really well but he was in “toxic” job and the stress led him back to drink. The problem this time, his wife found out, and took herself, and their two daughters away. He was distraught, and he decided that his wife and children were more important, and he stuck it out, until he became a “lemon”.
The good news, his wife and children were back in his life, the bad news, he’d “never be a grandfather”, or “walk his kids down the aisle”. I decided to ask him about his “hobbies” (as it was getting a little sad) and he told me he followed “Derby County”. (Now this is like someone from Philadelphia, meeting someone who supports the “New York Giants”, (mortal enemies)). This was because I was a supporter of “Nottingham Forest”. I told him this, and to my surprise, he was genuinely pleased. He told me it was nice for “Charlie”, as there was someone else “demented” on the ward. I hit back with, “Has your firstborn shaved off her wool...” (which I thought was crap, but Derby County’s nickname was “The Rams”).
We carried on with the care plan, and he suggested we compare it with the other one. He would check the “professional” one, as I read out my answers. I did quite well, and we were both impressed, as I’d got things that wasn’t on the ward version. We chatted for a little while and he asked me who my mentor was. I told him, and got back to work.
Later that morning, I was talking to my mentor, when Karl called to her across, I came with her and he said,
Karl - “Can I just say, the quality of care has gone up since Charles has come on the ward, and, and, he’s a really nice guy”.
Mentor - “I don’t know about the quality of care, Karl, but your quality of bullshit has improved.”
OH well...
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