Dear Diary,
A few turbulent days lie behind us. Between Easter week, visiting family and a panic attack, there is my carer who has lost touch with reality and, as a result, the spontaneous induction of two new carers. The first one yesterday in the late evening - some would call it "night" if you're not done until 1:00 a.m. - and the other one tomorrow first thing in the morning. Nope, coming to rest is not available at the moment.
And although I am told from all sides that it's not my fault if one of my carers is now in serious trouble, I can't help thinking again and again about where we went so off track and when it started to get so terribly out of hand. Could I have prevented it? Am I to blame after all? You're saying it's not my fault? I'm aware of that. Nevertheless, he is a kind-hearted person and I am 100%ig convinced that he would do anything to reverse what happened. Unfortunately, that's not possible. One panic attack cannot be reversed. Neither can two panic attacks.
And so it comes as it had to come. The next carer has to leave my team. I have to be able to rely on my carers. But here I was abandoned once too often. Of all things, during the already far too short time in which my sister from Spain and also my parents from the beautiful Frankenländle all visited me.
The management wants to talk to me about this. Because that is important. She also has the feeling that things are going very wrong. And not just since yesterday, but ever since I asked the group to keep their hands off my whisky collection. Which was more than six weeks ago, but yes, obviously a very high priority issue for them. You see the sarcasm sign I'm holding up?
I decline. There is nothing to discuss. First we should see to it that we cover the services and ensure my supply. The management hasn't been interested in what's going on for almost two months, so it doesn't matter whether it's a few days or not.
Those who know me know that it is not good if I fall silent. As long as I am loud, as long as I discuss, let's even call it grumbling, everything is still within a range where you can talk to me. But if I write messages in this style:
... But there is no need to talk about Mister X anyway ...
Then it does not bode well.
However, the reaction almost surprised me. After I made it clear that if in doubt, I would be driven to the emergency room before I had to live through another "you slept like a rock" panic night. Because that is the point: I am afraid.
And somewhere the money... no, the alarm bells must have rung. Of course, it's stupid to have far fewer nurses than my insurance pays for months on end and then one of the urgently needed stand-ins drops out. Because if I then call the ambulance and have to be driven to the hospital for the night - and on a Friday evening at that - then that means that my care service no longer gets any money. If it goes really badly, I won't get out until Monday. Or Tuesday. Too bad.
Do you think I'm unfair? No, I don't think so. Anyone who deals with the high responsibility as the management of an intensive care service in this way has to face this criticism. Actually, I am still much too reserved.
All the more surprising that all of a sudden two new nurses are ready to come for training that same evening and the day after tomorrow. So I don't have to go to the hospital on Friday night or during the day on Monday. There are things that are hard to believe.
Of course, the three hours of screening with one test mask change in the front and back are not enough. And of course this is exactly what we have discussed at every crisis meeting in the past. And of course I was promised each time that things would get better. But hey, who am I to complain? Not me. Wink smiley.
The main thing is that the next services are covered. I need a few days when I don't have to constantly brood and worry about the difficulties in my supply. There is land in sight. So let's hoist the sails and get going.
Change of scene. Both familiarisations were good. Much, but really immensely too short - as usual - but given the generous lead time of just 50 hours, I'm glad it worked out so well at all so far.
And it has. The critical sticking point for me is always the mask. Don't ask me, for months I put the mask on myself. Even my parents had no problems with it. As did my sister. And girlfriend. Actually, pretty much everyone who has helped me so far gets it right. But in my previous care team, there is only one permanent employee who can reliably put on the mask without breaking my neck. The two mini-jobbers, on the other hand, follow my instructions and get it right. And with the two new ones, there would then be four temporary workers who can handle my masks. Cool thing.
We'll see how the rest goes. Two hours of training is not enough. I already said that about three hours. And to be honest, I would find at least one full day shift and night shift, each accompanied by a nurse who is experienced with me, appropriate. I repeat myself, I know. But it's just the same old bag of tricks.
Nevertheless, I am confident. The two of them make a good impression on me.
On the management front, things are also suddenly moving. For the first time, there is to be a team meeting. It is even to be held at my place so that I can be there. I have noted that we should perhaps have our crisis meeting in private beforehand. There are a lot of things to discuss that the team may not necessarily need to know in detail. The topic of billing. The subject of alcohol. The subject of the €7,000 bill. The lack of staff - not because there are no staff, but because people are being scared away. The subject of professional competence.
But yes, if that is what is wanted, then we are happy to do it that way. I have no problem with that.
I'll have to make a TOP list so that we don't forget anything to discuss.
Either way, something is happening. That's good.
