A while ago I bumped into a patient I had worked with in acute admissions. It took me a while to remember him as it had been several months since he had been on the ward. Gradually a lot of it came back as I was speaking to him about how he had been getting on, he was only back on the ward to visit a friend and things were going really well.
I remembered spending quite a lot of time with this gentleman during his admission. Speaking to him about his life, helping him find solutions to his problems, watching him rebuilt his self esteem. Lots of proper *nursing* type stuff. I felt a warm glow in my heart that I had played a tiny part in developing a good relationship with this person and helping them to regain control of their life. My eyes were going moist with wishy washy feelings.
He chatted to me and said he could actually remember me specifically. Which was quite impressive as most people don’t spend much time remembering what happens on an acute psychiatric ward, I imagine. The one thing he could remember froms the several weeks I had spent with his was giving him a cigarette once when he looked fed up !
Not the therapeutic input. Not the good relationship. Nothing about me at all ! Except I had given him a roll up.
I learned something important that day. Still not quite sure what.
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