Dear Diary,
A few turbulent days lie behind us. Between Easter week, a family visit and a panic attack, my carer has lost touch with reality and, as a result, two new carers have spontaneously started work. The first one yesterday in the late evening - some would call it „night“ if you don't finish until 1.00 a.m. - and the other one tomorrow first thing in the morning. No, resting is currently not available.
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 Mr X anyway ...
Then it does not bode well.
However, I was almost surprised by the reaction. After I made it clear that, if in doubt, I would have myself driven to A&E before I had to go through another night of „you slept like a rock“ panic. Because that's the crux of the matter: I am afraid.
And the money... no, the alarm bells must have rung somewhere. Of course, it's stupid when you have far fewer carers than my health insurance fund pays for months on end and then one of the urgently needed stand-ins is absent. Because if I then call the ambulance and have to be driven to the hospital to stay overnight - on a Friday evening to boot - that means my care service won't get any more money. If things go really badly, I wouldn't get out until Monday. Or Tuesday. Stupid.
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 familiarisation sessions were good. A lot, but really too short - as usual - but given the generous lead time of just 50 hours, I'm glad it worked out so well 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 suddenly changing. There is to be a team meeting for the first time. It's even supposed to be held at my place so that I can be there. I remarked that we should probably have our crisis meeting in private beforehand. There are quite a few things to discuss that the team may not necessarily need to know in detail. The topic of billing. The subject of alcohol. The €7,000 bill. Staff shortages - not because there are no staff, but because people are being put off. The subject of expertise.
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.
