April 2007

Zarathustra: “How are you today?”

Patient: “Oh, brilliant! I’ve just seen the Virgin Mary! She’s sexy as fuck!”

Just how many blasphemies are in that statement, eh?

A phrase I’ve been coming across a lot lately among certain nurses is “You Can’t Tell Me That [insert the thing that they can't be told here].” It’s frequently used to shoot down any attempt to back up an argument with silly things like evidence or well-constructed analysis.

“You Can’t Tell Me That…” is a phrase that also says a lot of about the person saying it. It says, “I am completely stuck in my ways. I am impervious to evidence or logic. I am incapable of imagining anything being done differently. In other words, I am completely pig-ignorant.”

My recent episode of “You Can’t Tell Me That…” concerns our old friend Risperdal Consta, the wildly expensive fortnightly injection of antipsychotics in the bum.
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My intention, some time ago, was to write a post about the number of children, both here and in the USA, who are prescribed Ritalin. I also wanted to question whether ADHD was a valid diagnosis or whether today`s children are simply exposed to too much poor quality food, too many additives, too much television, too much playstation, too much lax discipline and too much peer and media pressure. I had actually gathered some facts and figures but they seem to have disappeared into the abyss that is my ineffectual filing system. I do remember that I found the figures hugely disconcerting.

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Way back in 1981 I was a guinea pig in the “new modular scheme of training” where all nurses shared a common foundation programme for the first 18 months. So our first year at college consisted of learning things like the anatomy the eye and useful practical skills like making beds and injecting oranges. We then spent several months as slaves on medical and surgical wards. All essential stuff for us budding RMNs. You can imagine how excited we were when in our 2nd year we got our first actual lesson (they weren’t yet called lectures) in psychiatric nursing! We had a great tutor who had spent years nursing on the wards. One of the practical skills he told us about was how to display empathy, how to let someone know you had some idea of what they were feeling. He cited some good examples and also recounted a real incident with a patient where he displayed empathy by saying “That must have been very frightening for you”.

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Hi y’all. I just got back from spending yesterday at the Royal College of Nursing congress. Here’s a few of my observations.

1. The thing that got the big news attention. Yesterday afternoon the RCN voted to consider industrial action. I wasn’t in the auditorium at the time of the vote (not that it would have mattered, because I wasn’t there as a voting member.) The first I heard of it was when a friend of mine rang my mobile to excitedly tell me what had happened. Apparently the original motion had been much weaker and didn’t mention industrial action, but somebody proposed an emergency motion calling for such action to be considered, and it passed overwhelmingly. First the Great Patricia Hewitt Roast at last year’s congress, now this. The RCN definitely seems to be moving away from its “pussywhipped” reputation.

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There’s talk of strike action, from a union that’s so conservative it considers being members of the TUC too radical. Wonders will never cease.

For years I’ve been looking forward to the politicisation of the nursing profession. Read the rest of this entry »

In an effort to derail the racism thread I thought I would make another, lighter, post. I was thinking about Zarathustra’s post about the funny things patients say.

I was thinking about superstition.

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Well, having bought the Guardian I couldn`t resist it, I had to have a look at their Jobs section. Laughter being the best medicine and all that. Until, of course, you remind yourself that you`re a taxpayer at which point the tears of mirth turn to tears of incredulity and frustration. Quite naturally I was drawn to the Mental Health section and it would appear that we are sadly lacking in people prepared to offer support to the BME`s. I had to check, I had no idea who the BME`s might be, and it turns out they`re the Black Minority Ethnic or the Black and Minority Ethnic. I`m not sure.

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This is probably not going to be an upbeat post. For some reason I have felt a need to write an article about sexual abuse. I have no idea why, I simply intend to write and see what transpires. If you feel reading a post about this subject may upset you feel free to avoid it.

Mental

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Well it must be that time of year again. The Guardian needs to fill up it’s pages. This time it is doing something on public sector blogs and we will be mentioned in the Society section.Which I presume is nothing to do with the film.

Expect to see it tomorrow April the 11th. My impression is that we will actually be in print !

The will be using an extract from Zarathustra’s post.

Food Inglorious Food

They offered a small payment. I have suggested they sponsor Helen.

Must go warn the hosting company.

Mental

Happy Easter everybody.

Today I was working with a patient who regularly insists that he’s “the Messiah.”

I wasn’t sure whether or not to mention the fact that it’s Good Friday. Might be a touchy subject.

A while back, somebody pointed me to a website entitled Nurses Are Angels, dedicated to telling the world what angelic beings nurses are.

I’m not sure if the “angel” tag was ever supposed to apply to mental health nurses, since the esteem and respect afforded to us in the eyes of the public tends to be somewhere around the level of professionals in the Seal-Clubbing industry. We don’t flutter angelically around the ward dispensing healing and joys. We’re the gits who lock people up.

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