One night at the movies long ago...

How often do we go to the cinema with family after we reach the age of 16? I don't just mean the odd mother and daughter trip to see the latest Romantic comedy, or a mum taking the kids to see a Disney Pixar. Its a rare thing I'm sure. But when it does happen, its bound be memorable for good or bad reasons. For me, one night at the movies in late Decemeber 1997, was a night I will never forget.

James Cameron's Titanic. If there ever was a film that could appeal to all ages, this was it. Mum didn't often go to the cinima, but she kept up to date with what was showing. For her a good film consisted of a traditional tried and tested romantic plot, complete with love, tragedy, and an obligatory sex scene. Leo and Kate looked good to go, so she announced that she wanted to be taken. Now usually this is the husbands job, but my dad never could see the point of the cinema. He liked old films which were always played in abundance on tele, and if they wasn't he would buy the video. Mum never went out much, so he enjoyed a rare oppotunity to hog the tele and be on in his own company when she went. This left mum in the capable hands of my God Father Bill, who had loved my mother since he met her as a young woman. Lonely, unmarried, and like a second father to me, he was invited to share in everything the family did. He gladly took mum to the cinima when ever she wanted to go, dressed in a suit, and smelling of 'Old Spice' aftershave. As usual he jumped at the chance to take her. 

It turned out that mum hadn't mentioned what she was going to see, because I was talking to dad just before she went out. "Titanic? now I would have liked to see that" he said. "Why don't you join them?" I said. So he agreed and went to put on his suit. 

I was smiling at this suit business, getting suited and booted for the cinema? No man had ever put on a suit to take me to the cinema. "Why don't you get dressed up to take me to the pictures then?" I asked my fiancée who was lounging lazily in an old pair of tracksuit bottoms next to me. "Don't you love me just the way I am?" he said. "No. Go and get scrubbed up. your taking me to see titanic tonight." I said. And that was that, amazingly he did what he was told! (it was early on in our relationship, he was still eager to please) 

As for me, I quite fancied Titanic. I'm not usually a fan of huge budget, over hyped stuff, but Leo is nice to look at, and I was intrigued as to whether it really was gonna be as good as it was hyped up to be. Besides, I had just discovered I was pregnant. At just 18, I was a little shaken up with this discovery. An evening out with my family would do me good. 

So there we all were, Me, My Fiancée, Mum, Dad, and Bill. All sat in the front row cause that's what mum liked. I was in the middle, with a huge box of sweet popcorn. Mum sat on my left, with a huge supply of sweets. Mum is one of them people who have to eat constantly through a film, munching, sucking, and rustling sweets wrappers. . She is a compulsive sweet passer, you know the type. 

They pass up the line, then back again. 5 mins later it happens again. If you say no, they get offered again on the next round. Say no twice, and she will rummage around producing another kind to try and tempt you. It went on until dad got frustrated and announced “No I do not want a sweet. Not now, not later. If I change my mind I’ll tell you.” Mum sulked for a bit. A few minutes later Bill cheered her up by saying “ooooh chocolate éclairs, I’ll have one of those!”  Matt my fiancé sat the other side of me, and next to him my dad. I smiled to myself; it was nice sat there between all these people who loved me. With my unborn baby inside me, and a shiny new engagement ring on my finger, I sighed with contentment.

Now to understand how I feel about Titanic, I must first explain how I feel about films. I am absorbed by films, watching a film is an intense emotional experience. I am the type that laughs hysterically, and cry’s just as hysterically in the cinema. I experience everything. I jump out of my seat when something unexpected happens, and often feel depressed for hours after a sad ending. It is for that reason that I shy away from anything to emotionally draining or depressing. Let’s face it, so many of the big blockbusters these days are full of tragedy and so called excitement. I watch them if I'm persuaded enough, but It’s a stressful experience! For a light evenings entertainment I stick to Romantic comedies. Titanic for me was amazing and awful all at once. It was made emotionally bearable by the dream scene at the end where Rose rejoins Jack on the staircase. I wasn’t to realise then, but I will never forget that night at the movies. It was to be a hugely significant night, for many reasons.

The first was the romance of Jack and Rose. 

Who can look at this picture and not believe they were completely and utterly in love? Oh how I craved that feeling, sat there in that cinema. I loved Matt, but I know deep down it wasn't right. I wasn't 'in love' with him at all, and it was that night that I realised it. But with our baby inside me I pushed the thought away.It was too late. I would have to make the best of it. But oh how I craved a love like Jack and Rose shared. Love making like the steamy car window scene...

Incidently this scene was rather uncomfortable in the company of my parents. You know how it is at family things when your all watching TV and someone's having sex? Dad coughs, mum keeps overly straight face whilst flushing a little, then somebody makes a comment in an attempt to break the tension. In this case My dad said "do they still serve ice creams in the interval?" 

The memory of this scene prompted me to stand strong and break up with Matt 3 years ago. As he stood on the doorstep begging to come back home, I levelled with him and said "It was never right between us, it should have been so much more. We both deserve to go out and find it." All with the picture of that hand slapped up against a steamy window in the forefront of my mind. It was the right thing to do. 

The other embarrassingly scene was the drawing scene.

I LOVED this scene! Kate made curves sexy. Being curvaceous myself, It brought about a new sense of appreciation of my own body. Having just came out of a phase of self concious paranoia, I started to feel good about the way I looked. I felt sexy and attractive. This scene also brought about an amusing memory I have with Matt.

Both being rather good at drawing, we decided to recreate this pose at home. I drew him, then he drew me. They were incredibly lifelike. We stored them rolled up in a cupboard down stairs in my parents house where we were living till a flat came up on the council list. 

A year or so later my aunts and uncles came round for Christmas. I will never forget entering the living room to find a shocked Aunt who had just unrolled the drawings. She had stumbled on them when mum asked her to have a look in the cupboard for a blown up photo of my new baby. After the initial shock and explanation, the whole family was in hysterics, The pictures were just so life like that it was as embarrassing as a naked photo being found!

It was that year that I brought my dad the soundtrack of Titanic for Christmas. He had been asking for it all year. He played it in the car whilst he drove me places. I loved it too, we talked about Titanic and the deeper themes running beneath the story line. When he died in March 2000, I played it and cried my heart out. This is our song: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtAPC3gwG_0

To me Titanic is about never letting go.

Its about making time count. Every second. If you watch it again, look out for the references to time, clocks, and hands. The film is full of them. Jack's philosophy of life was "Take life as it comes to you, to make each day count" 

Coincidently my life hit an iceberg at soon after this night at the movies. Metaphorically, the catastrophe played out in the final scenes of the ships sinking was adjacent to my own life over them next few years. Bill and Dad died. Mum has severe dementia. Matt and I are no longer together. 

But that night at the movies with my family taught me to grab life, hold it tight, cherish it, and hold on to the bitter end. To keep on playing like the band, to hold out my hands like the priest, giving all i have to offer. To carry on making every day count even when loved ones pass away. 

And when I am grey and old, I hope my life will play out like the final scenes. Pictures and signs of a life time of making time count all around me. At peace in the knowledge I have taken life by the reigns and made it worth while. I love how Rose drops 'the heart of the ocean' into the sea with a "whoops!" The significance here is that things that may be highly precious materially, actually count for nothing. To live life in search of materialistic wealth means we miss the true riches of life. 

Who knows if the last scene was a dream, or Rose dying. I think Cameron wanted it to be left open to interpretation. Its best that way. Either way if dying is anything like this scene, I'll be a happy bunny. 

Before I go, I just wanna say thank you to the 'kid in the front row' who suggested this post. As I mentioned previously, theres a few of us posting on the same topic today. I can't wait to read everybody else's. If you want to check them out, visit his blog:  http://kidinthefrontrow.blogspot.com/ 

Creative me.

"Hello everybody" or perhaps just "hello you", since 'everybody' seems far too broad a word to use for a blog with a tiny amount of followers.

Been busy, very busy. Plus every time I sit down to type a post, my husband asks me "what are you doing?" and when I tell him he asks me why I'm doing it. He does not understand creativity. He doesn't get art. He doesn't read, and he doesn't dream. About the closest he comes is quite enjoying a good film, or appreciating a life like painting of something pretty. Its not a problem in our relationship since I am a lone creator happy creating in my own little world.

 I sometimes stop dead in my tracks whilst out and take a random photo with my camera because a scene has captured me, or fall deep into contemplation on overhearing a passers by conversation. I can make almost anything. I knit, sew, bead, model, sculpt, paint, arrange, decorate, write, cook, design, draw, and play several instruments. I sum up my talent as a good all rounder, but brilliant at nothing. I love trying new things, for instance I made almost everything for my wedding, I really was in my element. The main excuse was the money it would save me. I wanted an expensive tiara, so decided to recreate it myself. Brought the beads, some wire, and googled tiara making. I twisted and clamped away for an evening and came up with these...

Flowers...

Table names... (instead of traditional numbers)

I could go on and on, from metres and metres of white bunting, to pocket fold invitations.

I do miss having time to indulge in some 'making time'. I will never forget the pleasure I got from a year in college studying design and textiles. Its a shame it all ended in personal disaster. Full time making, drawing, stitching, and beading was amazing.

So why didn't I make a career out of it you may ask? Well I never could stay with one thing, and that was the problem. I loved switching from one craft to another. From knitting my daughters first tiny wrap round cardigan, to painting a mural on my sons first bedroom wall.

I will continue to dabble creatively from time to time. Whatever comes about, I'll lay my creative hands to it with pleasure. My next project is my best friends Lisa's tiara. She gets wed next year, and has asked me to make it :)

And that's it for me, for now. I'll be back soon with something completely different on the 3rd December. A fellow blogger has suggested that a few of us to blog collectively on a theme. The title is "One Night At The Movies Long Ago"

I'm pretty excited actually, I have a really good memory to write about. It might just be worth a read so pop back and have a nose!

Long time no write!

So once again, I have failed to keep this thing updated. Was bound to happen. I am far to busy to do anything properly unfortunately! Even be a mother.

Yes I am suffering from working mother blues big time. The house is a tip, my kids look bedraggled, and they aren't getting their homework done on time. I guess this is to be expected when you have a large amount of children anyway, but It bothers me a lot. When I chose to have a large family I never wanted them to go without as a result. The reality is that they are fed (mainly on quick and easy meals that could be healthier) clothed (although somewhat creased through lack of ironing) clean (although this is often done with wet wipes whilst hurrying out of the door) and loved (and this I never scrimp on)

This week I have been suffering from a nasty infection in a dead wisdom tooth. It spread to my jaw and throat, and I have been feeling sick, feverish, swollen, and in a lot of pain. I had two days off this week, unable to do much but lay on the sofa becoming addicted to silly facebook games involving farming and running a cafe. Now I am back on my feet I am on a mission to gain order on my family.

Its hard watching the kids struggle with their homework, knowing I have the washing up, my own homework, and all the uniforms to wash. I hate the letters that come in from the school inviting me to parents evening on a night i'm needed in work. I hate leaving the house when the kids are sound asleep and arriving back when they are already in bed.

But in the grand scheme of things, I wouldn't be happy just staying at home. I felt depressed, unmotivated, and I clock watched waiting for the kids to come home from school. I might moan, but the time I spend with the kids now is so precious. They may not always be wearing an ironed shirt, but its clean, and they go to school wearing it telling their teachers how proud they are of their mum becoming a nurse. And they do it with a smile because they are loved and happy at home. They are healthy because even though their food is quick and easy, It always contains enough energy to keep em going and a good enough amount of fruit and veg.

Not wanting to be all doom and gloom I must add I am LOVING my present placement. I am working long hours so I usually only do 3 days a week.

Hmmm... now I got all that off my chest I actually think that Its not all that bad. Besides, I managed to iron all the kids clothes today. I made a Jamie Oliver recipe yesterday. I did their homework with them tonight.

Don't listen to me, I'm possibly due on my period or something lol

Nursing is great, being a mum is wonderful, everything is fine :)

Lets get back to some nursyness...

Aware that many recent postings have been pretty off topic, I wanna write about nursie stuff today.

We finished our child development module over a week ago now. As much as I liked Smiley

Stuart the unit leader, I was glad when it was finished. It wasn't that the unit was boring, but it was all the same sort of thing. Fascinating, but too many lectures all on one subject, with little time in between to reflect. A hand out in class prompted me to buy a fantastic book:

Reclaiming Childhood: Helene Guldburg

This is a powerful and passionate book that explains why so much of what we say about children is so wrong.’
-Professor Frank Furedi, author of Paranoid Parenting

‘Reclaiming Childhood is a lovely blend of developmental theory and
up-to-date research, a deep knowledge of children, and good old common
sense. This bracing book is a gift to children everywhere.’


I haven't had a chance to read much of it, but it looks facinating. Valuable from both a parents perspective, to a professional who works with children.


Straight after this unit we plunged straight into our first proper maths exam of the year. I discovered I actually really enjoy maths, now that I have a better basic understanding. You see, me and maths didn't really get on in recent years. I started off with a good basic knowledge as a youngster, then it all went wrong in year 9 at school. I was put into the top set after diagnostic testing. I lasted one lesson in this set. I didn't get what the teacher was teaching. I went home with some homework which I genuinely tried all night to do. The next day I went to the office to ask her about it, and she said if I couldn't understand it, and had worked all night on one question, then I shouldn't be in the group. And so I walked away accepting this fate. Big mistake, the lower class bored me so much that I lost all interest. And now because of my own lack of confidence in my ability, and one very untactful and unhelpful teacher, I have had to teach myself numeracy. And I kinda love it. Really! Never thought I would ever say that about Maths. I passed with 100% :) as did all of my friends, which we were all chuffed about.


Our new unit started last Monday. Its working with children and families, and I'm loving it. Its mixed in with the anatomy and physiology unit. We have covered philosophies of care, clinical stuff like assessing vital signs, and neurological observations. Calculating fluid requirements, and understanding what is going on physiology wise and how to treat it. I like it because we are learning the theory behind everything, and going into detail on the basics of nursing care. Its like taking the essence of the stuff learnt "on the job" last year to a new level. I can't wait to get out there and put it into practice. And on that note, placement is stating to creep up on me.


I start placement in a general children's ward, in a district hospital, in about a week and a half's time. I can't wait!!!! Its been so long since I was on a clinical placement, and I can't wait to put on my uniform and get nursing. I'm scarred too, this year there will be more expected of me on the wards. Looking forward to working with some of my friends too, most of us are all on the same ward. Another one is in A&E but at the same hospital. Last time I was on my own, so it will be nice to have friends around to share the experience with. And on that note, I'm really gonna have to finish here and get studying. This unit isn't over yet!

Community

Those of you who know me well, will also know I have my fingers in many pies.

I didn't realised the importance of community spirit until I moved to a small town that local councils forgot. Its one minute from a London Borough, and on the very edge of an other.

Since I moved in (literally) I have got myself stuck well into local affairs. Its a run down, nothingy area. Kids and grown ups alike have nothing to do. Poverty is high, and morale is low.

My main pie is the Methodist Church up the road from me. Being a Christian played a part in this obviously, but I was also totally captivated by the drive and vision that the church members had to reach out into the local community. By outreach I am not talking about evangelicals walking the streets trying to get people into church. The motivation and objective behind their vision is to provide community facilities and services to improve the lives of the individuals living in the area. Their aim is to build a community centre on the grounds alongside the church. They want to do this in partnership with the local forum, a group made up of people from the local community. I also have a finger in this forum pie. This facility would dramatically change the lives of the local folk, they need it badly.

This past two weeks have been made even busier by these ventures, but they are a labour of love.

To me, community spirit is a hugely powerful thing. Something society today seems to have lost. On my estate there is a rising, a bubbling. Its only faint, but its there. And its growing. And when you see it its inspiring. The picture above was taken at our sponsored walk through a local country park. For me, this picture captured the essence of community spirit. Local twits had burnt a fallen tree. We helped each other climb over it. 'Each other' being people working in the local school, church folk, children, forum members, friends... After the walk we had organised a free BBQ for anyone and everyone, with free bouncy castles for the kids.

Free?!?!? weren't we trying to raise money not spend it? Indeed we was, but again, the best way to change lives is to demonstrate it. Community spirit is about everyone, looking out for everyone else. Sharing with each other, socialising with each other. Cutting down the divisions. Its hard to convey to people that this is not a church project, its an everyone project. But were getting there slowly. Feasibility studies have been done, as has an official survey been taken. Final plans are being drawn up to be submitted for planning permission. We have a professional fundraiser. Its all quite exciting :)

The reason for mentioning it here? well I guess its too much of a part of me not to mention!

I think a lot of it comes from the same place within me that wants to be a nurse.

Making lives better. Healing hurts. Saving lives.

And if this sounds all selfless and goody goody, do not be mistaken. A lot of this is very selfish! I get a real kick out of it, I love it. I feel alive when I see a positive difference being made to someone else's life. I get excited about the prospect of joining forces with others to make good stuff happen.

“Coming together is a beginning. Keeping together is progress. Working together is success.” Henry Ford

The perfectionist in me...

I hate perfectionists. No-body is ever perfect, and it can drive somebody insane to accept nothing less than perfect. What ever happened to good enough, excellent, or a good try? Perfectionists often get depressed, as everything falls short of their expectations. They never finish a project because they will always think of ways to improve it. They are false, and pretentious. When we aim too high, we end up with our heads stuck in the clouds. Perfectionists procrastinate because they are scared of imperfection.

I have perfectionism in me. Its one thing I really dislike about myself. I had forgotten all about it until I came on here to write a post. I was cross with myself, because the reason I haven't wrote anything in 2 weeks is because I haven't had the time to write a 'decent' post. A 'perfect' post you could say, although I am fully aware that none of my posts are perfect. It is the same with a lot of what I do. And whilst is it important not to settle for second best, best isn't always perfect. When I write an essay I read text book upon text book, and a vast array of nursing journals. I choose complicated scenarios, and avoid the obvious subject matters. I think around the subject, and print off pages and pages of what seems to be valuable research. All in a quest to write a perfect essay. But I noticed something last term, the more I tried to attain perfection, the worse my grades got. I passed everything, but some of the best work came early on in the course when I kept things in perspective.

On the wards I put my all into my nursing, but to be honest the days when I got the best feedback from the other nurses were the days I nursed from the heart. Those days felt good, and I looked good. I don't mean to say I looked attractive, but I radiated something that made the people around me feel better. The days I worried about doing everything perfectly, were also the days I was too preoccupied to interact well with my patients.

Of course certain things in nursing must be perfect. Take drug calculations for instance. There's no room for imperfection there, especially with children. And its no good doing skills less than accurately. Non maleficence (to do no harm) is the main ethical principle in nursing. And if less than perfection means harm of any degree then perfection it must be.

So I am therefore glad i got 20/20 in my nursing calculations exam. Ok its only level 1, but I really wanted perfection knowing the importance of accurate mathematical skills. On the wards you can use a calculator, but you never know when you might not have one and have a tricky dose to work out.

Imperfections of the past 2 weeks are vast, comprising of practically everything else. I have fallen short of doing my homework on time, I have said the wrong thing on several occasions, and have been close to falling asleep in several lectures.

I am not telling you to just get by in life, to only do what is needed. To aim to easily attainable standards. I'm certainly not perfect, and could be giving less than perfect advice. But I think you should always try and be the best you can be. You should always aim high. You should always put your heart and soul into the things you do. But you shouldn't do it to be perfect, or to do something perfectly. You will always fall short in the end, a lot of damage can be done on the way.

So here I am with my imperfect blog post and my imperfect life. My typos and hard to read sentences. My voice spoken at the wrong time, sometimes using the wrong words. But I have got something from it, have you?

Oliver

Oliver is almost 6. He's my baby, the youngest of four. He likes making things out of LEGO and KNEX. He can build the most complex of models in the instruction book for older children. He is happy and loving. He likes playing with cars, and his Nintendo DS.

When Oliver was 2 years old he suddenly stopped breathing. It probably only lasted about 30 seconds, but seeing the life drain from him in my arms was something a mother should never have to witness. It was like he just dropped dead. At first I thought he had just fainted, which was scary enough in itself. I tried to wake him by calling and rubbing his chest. I didn't feel any movement. He went blue before my eyes. Blue and lifeless. I ran outside with him screaming. I don't know why I did this. With sense finally kicking in, I started rubbing his chest vigorously. And just like that he suddenly came back to like with a gasp.

The diagnosis in A&E was Acute Life Threatening Episode

There was never any follow up as Oliver appeared to be fit and healthy. I was told it was just one of them things, and to monitor him at home. It was like living on a knifes edge, and I watched him like a hawk. Thankfully he has never stopped breathing again, although he has scared me a few times fainting.

I have always referred to Oliver as 'my little pickle'. Mischievous in a cute and bouncy way. Energetic, and sometimes challenging. There has always been something about Oliver, something not quite right. I have previously put this down to problems he has with his eyesight, and just being a little too 'jump first, think later'.

But today I had a meeting with his headteacher. After a long discussion, and some thought provoking questions, Oliver has been referred for some investigations and extra support. We are thinking along the lines of a mild autism. I can't quite believe I didn't realise before.

Autism and Asperger syndrome

Oliver is likes repetitive behaviour, and becomes distressed with changes in routine. He is obsessed by particular objects, and must take something with him every time he leaves the house. He is clumsy. He does not maintain eye contact, and I am forever trying to get him to look into my eyes to get his attention. He plays alone mostly. He does not imaginatively play. He often acts inappropriately completely innocently. He is slow to learn in school, but excels in model making, and mechanics.

Now we all might be completly wrong, the educational psycologist will be able to give us a better picture. As will the further investigaions into his hearing and speech.

On one hand I am relieved that someone else has seen my concerns and is doing something about it. I have previously asked for help from my G.P and health visitor to no avail. This sort of referal with get results, and Oliver will be given the support he needs.

On the other hand I feel really sad..... And then guilty for feeling so sad. I see parents left right and centre dealing with far worse things, their children being diagnosed with cancer for instance. Oliver's problems are mild, and I have no doubt that with the right support he will thrive and develop well.

I am a great believer that you should never allow an illness or a condition define you, so that will be my aim in being Oliver's mother.

Oliver loves dancing. He thinks Spiderman is the coolest. He has a really cute singing voice. He has a cute little button nose which I kiss at least once a day...

Get your jeans on..

October 2nd 2009 :)

Week 2 :)

And so another week has passed, and we have now completed half of our module on child development. I made 4 of of the other girls pose for a picture with me under the university sign to celebrate this occasion. We had just had lunch in Nandos, and was off for the last lecture of the day. We are now half way through our Child Development module, and I passed my BLS (Basic Life Support) exam. University life is good. So far...

No longer a London virgin, I travel with ease on the underground. I swipe my oyster whilst chewing gum, texting, and listening to music. I half snooze on the train whilst instinctively knowing when my stop is. Its becoming second nature now, and it no longer worries or excites me.

As for the lectures, I am liking them. They are in big rooms set out like theatres/cinemas. Unfortunately we cant take food in, popcorn would have seemed applicable! I have to admit to struggling to keep awake on 2 occasions. On the whole everything has been fascinating. Smiley Stuart, the leader of this unit is very nice. He has two kids of his own, and is especially interested in Neurological stuff. As with all the lecturers this year, they all have a passion for children's nursing which is really encouraging to see.

As for me, I am very tired and very weary. I am really looking forward to laying in tomorrow. I'm going to spend some quality time with Rob and the kids. We are going to a friends babies 1st birthday party tomorrow, which I am really looking forward too. As nice as the uni girls are, I can't wait to catch up with my friends. It seems like it has been ages!

Jessica is my gorgeous daughter, she's 7. She fascinates me. I love playing with her hair, and i love it when she plays with mine back. She still sucks her thumb, I think she always will secretly. She loves dancing and music, and she is very very artistic. She is always writing me letters, and drawing me pictures to tell me how she thinks I am the best mum in the world. She is adventurous, and gutsy. She loves being a beaver scout, and has driven a 4x4. She can strop for England, and can be very volatile. But I wouldn't change that for the world, her passion and expression is something i treasure. She is inspiring.

As much as I love training to be a nurse, I also miss my children. Its a struggle juggling family life with working and studying. But I must have done something right because they tell everyone how proud they are of their mum. They don't complain about me going off all day, they go to the childminders with a smile and a wave. I'm welcomed home with huge cuddles, and kisses. We all sit and do our homework together.

I am so blessed...

More about my week tomorrow

Study skills

Felt the need for a happy post tonight. Also felt the need to assure you that I am OK, and feeling very positive about life. This week starts a two week unit at uni on child development. I am in at 9am everyday, which means I gotta get up at 6am. This I am not at all pleased about. I am not a morning person. I often find it hard to sleep of a night time, but mornings I have no trouble at all.

But on the bright side we are finally getting down to some proper learning. Its a subject I'm fascinated with. I love getting my teeth stuck into something I know I can get a lot from! We will be doing an 2000 word essay based on a real patient from our next placement. I think after all that reading of old diary's I would love to focus mine on an adolescent. This is a first for me as my first reaction would always be to pick a young child to study, as its in my comfort zone. I fancy a challenge :)

And so Its back to studying hard, and getting my nose stuck in a load of text books (Something I secretly enjoy) If you have read my first few blog posts you will remember my office under the stairs. Well this evolved as I got cabin fever as well as too many books and nursing magazines. My husband (still can't get used to calling him that) came to the rescue again. One Saturday in the spring I went out for the day, and came back to find he had converted half of our shed into an office. This new improved study area is complete with electric, lighting, heating, a massive desk, and space for my ever growing book collection and more.

When I came home he showed me proudly and said "I've even put your two Robbie's down here to keep you company." This was referring too the photo of him (I call him Robbie) and a signed photo of Robbie Keane playing for Spurs. He had found tucked under my bed... thought that little crush was my best kept secret! It was sweet though, especially since Rob supports West Ham.

So what do I think are good study skills? I guess the most important thing is to work out what is best for you. Being quite a creative person, my study style is a bit unusual. I like different coloured pens, and draw out a lot of stuff to illustrate it in my mind. I make up songs with key facts (I am one of these people who pick up lyrics really quickly, unfortunately I can't sing so this is the best way to put to use this skill) I turn complicated facts into silly things in my head. I act what I have learnt out in my head. For instance, my last exam on basic life support was revised by imagining situations in which I would save the day. This also appeals to my love of daydreaming. At the exam I just acted out the dream, and little Lucy lived :)

Another important tip is to stay awake during lectures. And on that note I am going to get myself tucked up in bed for a good dream, another early start for me.

Dear Diary...

I have had a splitting headache this weekend, and I still remain shattered despite taking it easy. Perhaps now is a good time to let you lot into something that even the uni do not even know. I have something known as M.E. For those who haven't a clue what I'm talking about:

http://www.meassociation.org.uk/content/view/90/173/1/1/ I was diagnosed at the age of 15.

I don't usually tell people who don't need to know because I don't want to be treated any different. I don't want to take it easy or have extra time in exams. I want to work my socks off, and I want to be given the hard jobs. Yes I pay for it the day after, and if its another work day I drag myself through it. Trouble is it mounts up, and today I am in pain all over. I am exhausted, and almost too week to type.

Don't get me wrong, I am much better now than when I was first diagnosed. It was a long process involving a weeks hospital stay for observation. Back then it wasn't taken seriously, but luckily my G.P was incredibly supportive and put me in touch with a support group. The initial course of my illness saw me almost bed bound, and I missed almost a year and a half of school. I had to learn all the G.C.S.E Syllabus on my own, with very little support from the school who didn't believe I was actually Ill. I scraped through with reasonable grades, 3 B's a C, and 4 D's.

The main blow was having to give up dancing. From the age of 4, dancing was my life. I danced most nights of the week, and had some amazing experiences dancing with my own dancing school and other ballet company's including the Chelmsford ballet company http://www.chelmsfordballet.co.uk/ .It was my dream to be a professional dancer, and I was accepted into performers dance academy in Essex http://www.performerscollege.co.uk/ . But this wasn't to be. After 6 weeks bed bound I tried in vain to dance again in my own living room, and ended up passing out and throwing up everywhere. I had to give up my dream, and it broke my heart.

I've tried to go back, and probably could hack a weekly class and the odd show, but the frustration of not being able to dance how I used to was too was too overwhelming. Now I just dance at the odd party, and in my head (I'm always dancing in my head)

All this and much more have been documented in my old diary's. I stumbled upon them whilst clearing a path through the loft space for a television engineer. Reading them this weekend has been an emotional experience. There is stuff in there that I cringe at, stuff that makes me smile, and stuff that makes my heartbreak. I know growing up isn't easy, but my teens were quite horrific when I look back. It all started off in the diary below. Reading this one was highly amusing, I remember feeling so grown up, but I sound so juvenile! It documented my first kiss, and how I would always love a boy called Daniel. We lived 3 doors away from each other, and met down the bottom of our gardens for our first teenage fumbling's. It captured the excitement of my first concert (East17) and a slightly weird obsession with Chesney Hawks.

Of all the diary's, the most personal is the one below. I cried when I read it. I was a screwed up mess, just trying to get through the day. This diary documents some very horrific moments of my life. Its a little surreal to read, and almost feels like it was just a film I watched too many times. But in amongst the horror are some really beautiful moments, poems wrote to me and by me, Sketches, photos, and letters. This diary actually did me a world of good, and the journey it took me on is quite a fascinating read.

I always covered my diary in things like "KEEP OUT MUM and DAD". No kids wants their parents to know what's really going on in their lives do they? When I moved out in 1999, I left my diary's in my old room. I forgot all about them till mum became unwell and we had to move her out. It was whilst packing up her stuff I discovered she had wrote something on the blank page at the front of my diary:

lol Of all the things, she had used my precious diary as note paper to write down her fish and chip order. On the downside it was possibly then that she learned the truth about me, and I fear It broke her heart.

It wasn't all bad though, really it wasn't. There's some hilarious moments captured in this scribble so don't feel too bad for me. All teens feel everything worse than it actually is :)

I am a second year nursing student!

Before I blog away about the past couple of days, It has occurred to me that I haven't actually explained what's going on! The change over to child branch from foundation has required me to change university campus. I will now need to travel into London to the university's main campus at Southwark, and will be joining the existing students up there along with 2 of my friends from Havering and a handful of others.

I rarely use public transport because my house is somewhere that local councils forgot! They refuse to believe that anybody living here might need to travel into London. This is annoying extremely tricky. With very limited experience in the ways of traveling in London I felt quite unearved about the whole thing as I'm sure you gathered by the previous post.

So how did it all go? Well the journey there could have been done with my eyes shut. Ok I have to admit to getting a bit confused about the whole oyster card thing, I touched every pad I saw just in case I needed to. Despite costing me about £7.50, I made it there....1 and a half hours early! lol

With time to kill and nerves to calm, I sat myself down in a cafe to eat toast and drink tea. The medicinal effect of these was immense, and the waitresses smile on walking past my table showed she noticed this too. Ideally I could have sat there drinking tea and eating toast all day, but soon enough I had to venture off to uni.

And so my second year began in a very uncomfortable lecture hall, with the very lady who enrolled me last year and got me onto the Children's nursing course. Despite her being amazingly interesting and helpful along with the other lecturers, I have to admit the first few days have dragged a bit dealing with tedious but essential formality's. But there has been a few highlights. We discovered the student union bar, which serves a really nice cuppa. Even more impressive was the mugs it was served in, pictured below...

The other highlights/lowlights are as follows:

- Getting a drug calculations test, and opening it to discover they had mistakenly printed the answers into it lol

- Being sung to by a random man who wanted to sell me his CD. He looked straight into my eyes and sung, I went to jelly (No I wasn't attracted to him but his voice churned up my insides).

- Sitting next to a man on the who was talking to himself loudly in polish and scribbling things down in his note book. Why? Tried not to make assumptions (which Is a bad thing when your a nurse) but I wondered about him. Have to admit I also flinched when he got up just in case he had mental health problems.

- Being called second year students, sounds so much better than first years.

- Having lots of lovely time by myself walking, and sitting on the trains watching the world whiz by. I love company, but also really love just being on my own with my own thoughts. Its actually been great just listing to my favourite music and contemplating the world and its men.

And that's about it, or all I can manage in my exhausted state of mind. :)

-

Wish me luck...

Ok so it's the 14th September, 05:45am. I have had 4 hours sleep after tossing and turning all night, which I suppose is better than the 10 mins sleep I got the night before my first placement. Don't need to up early, but the scout in me wants to be prepared. Nothing particularly important about today really, but its all new again. New uni campus, new lecturers, new way of traveling, and finally focused children's nursing.

Its been so long since i went into London regularly, and even then it was only really a straight through ride to some theatre or dance studio for rehearsals. It's didn't bother me in the slightest back then, but for some reason it now gives me serious jitters! I blame this on my new student oyster card. What on earth is it, and how do I use it? I am an Oyster virgin. I asked a few friends who could tel me how it all works. Touch in touch out, and yellow pads to put it on. Pay as you go credit, and e-travel cards. Why call it an Oyster? I hate oysters. Horrible slippery things. I have an irrational fear of seafood (yes this actually is true) maybe that is why I am having trouble getting to grips with using this thing.

In an attempt to adopt calmness I am listening to Kenny G for the first time since I was about 16. Its making me go a bit delirious. I feel like I need to go and put on some heals, a long 'dancing' dress, and swirl around the room (currently listening to a rather smooth version of "the look of love") Perhaps that will make me feel better. Yes i am gonna cha cha round the room, then hop in the shower.

Sorry for this random post but its helping me get my head round today. Slightly more sane post later, TTFN.

How to survive your first year of nurse training...

By the end of the first year, one thing is certain. Your year group at uni will not be the same size when you finish. For us 09/08 students, I think only about 60% survived the first year. I identify 3 critical stages: Early drop outs, after placement drop outs, and "I failed everything" throw outs.

After stumbling through my first year and comming out the other side here is my guide to surviving the first year of nurses training.

Rule 1

Attitude. Come to terms with the fact that you are not in fact Florence Nightingale. You are not the best thing to happen to nursing and your gonna muck up spectacularly one day. How you deal with that may be critical to your career, or possibly just hilarious to your co workers. (maybe indulge you with that story another day ;) Take criticism on the chin, and expect that you will be scrutinised and pulled apart left right and centre. This is usually by people in management, relatives, and your own worst enemy - Yourself. Quietly and thoughtfully reflect on these times, and learn from them. Change what you did wrong and be open to feedback from qualified staff. Remember that relatives, especially in child branch nursing, are experts of the child you are caring for. Not matter how high up the ladder you ever get, don't ever forget this. You are in a privileged position talking care of their loved one.

Rule 2

"I want to be a nurse because..." No matter how passionate you are about being the best nurse you can be, please do not be cringy. This counts from your first interview for uni till the day you retire. Come up with a intelligent and interesting reason for wanting to be a nurse. Don't just tell people "I'm a caring person, I want to help people." Your interviewers and lecturers will be secretly wanting to put their fingers down their throat's. Get a good enough answer and you'll even gain the respect of doctors! (Bowing also helps, as does making them tea, and doing their Ob charts before they get to their patient.)

Rule 3

Take time out. Doing well does not mean burying your head in text books and filling your spare time studying. Yes do extra reading, subscribe to nursing magazines, but keep a balance. If you read text books on the train home your on the wrong tracks. Forget who you are and you'll either become a text book nurse (which in my opinion is not ideal) or a burnt out drop out. Reflection is key to becoming a nurse. You wont do that with your head stuck in a textbook. Read a bit, think a bit, live a bit, and then apply that to your nursing. (Obviously if the living part includes a drink or two on a Friday night, please do not use that as anything influential to your carer!)

Rule 4

Be honest, and know your limitations. It is not nice to be a 1st year student. You are often treated like you know nothing, and are capable of only the simplest of tasks. Do not get so frustrated that you feel the need to prove you know more than you do. When you get to your first placement, ask this question "What am I not allowed to do?". You will be given a list of things such as not giving drugs without supervision, not taking a patient to theatre alone, neuro ob's, oxygen administration, etc etc. You then need to add to the list everything you do not confidently know how to do. Please be brutally honest with this. There may come a time on a busy day when somebody asks you to do something that could potentially be harmful to your patient. I cannot stress the importance of this, you are accountable for your own actions. Being just a student is not an excuse. If you are not sure if you can or are allowed to do it, don't. And whilst we are on the topic of honesty, be very very careful making promises. Much better to say "I'm gonna be here for you" than "everything is going to be OK".

Rule 5

Make the tea, and answer the phone. If you want to be respected this is key. You will be called "The student" You are a student. Shrug off being called one and make a decent cuppa for everybody. Later they will show you how to save lives and help to shape you into the nurse you want to become. If they don't their just a bully, take action on this if it's serious. (More on speaking up another time)

Rule 6

Confidentiality. Don't be tempted to gossip, and don't blog and include real situations. How would you like to have an enema then have the nurse discuss it on her way home on the bus? This is serious stuff, having a facebook status like "Had a bad day today, had to shave bed 5's pubic region and he hadn't washed for days" just isn't fair. And for all you know, Bed 5's aunts friend is your friends sister, who See's it and gets you thrown out of nursing. On that note this description bares no resemblance to any real person or situation, and confidentiality has been abided to in accordance the The NMC Code (2008) Yes, referencing is also something you gotta learn too.

Rule 7

Every patient has a name, and don't ever do what I did above and refer to people by their bed numbers or condition. Get to know your patient as best you possibly can and you'll be a better nurse to them. I say this because I think you can always so this to some extent, even if it is just a short introductory chat when you come onto shift.

Rule 8

Make health care support workers your first friends when you get to a ward. They will show you how to make a bed on your first day. They will show you the machines and what buttons to press. They know where everything is kept. They keep the ward chugging along. They are as valuable as sister or matron. Work with them and they will support you. Work as if you are above them and you'll lose the respect of possibly the whole ward staff.

Rule 9

Cry, not on the wards but in the privacy of your own bedroom. Preferably in the arms of your chosen loved one if possible. Not gonna lie, its an emotional journey. Don't feel immune at uni either. I remember one lecture on lung conditions, several students walked out during a video about lung cancer. A couple were smokers who did not like being shown what smoking can cause. The majority of walkers had endured painful experiences brought back to mind through the teaching. If you can, sit through it calmly and collectively. Its good practice for the wards. You shouldn't walk out on your patient when you find out that he has what your cousin had. Yes you need to deal with it, but put them feelings into a filing cabinet to deal with safely later that day. Just don't forget you filed them, which is worse than just walking out...

Rule 10

Hold onto the people who make your journey to becoming a nurse that much easier or enjoyable. That means everyone from your parents, to your partner, your friends, and even your new found work colleagues (if you make them enough tea). Make time for them, keep their numbers and email addresses safe.

In addition to these rules, here are a few other words of wisdom.

-Buy some really unattractive but comfy shoes for the wards.

-Keep two small notebooks in your pockets, One scrap one for writing observations and messages down, and the other to jot down things learnt on the ward. Scissors, numerous pens, and a fob watch are also essential.

-Don't tell your patient you are recording their respiration rate, ever been told someone is counting your breaths? You don't breath normally. Do this sneakily while you wait for the B.P to puff up. It can be hard to see with young children, I always ask them if i can put my hand on their tummy so i can feel instead if I'm unsure.

-Try where you can to go back to basics. Take observations manually because you never know when your equipment wont be to hand or will be on the blink. Remember that observations aren't just sticking on the machines on patients and recording the results. A child's colour will tell you more about whether he is getting enough oxygen than the saturation monitor on his finger.

-Communication is the back bone of nursing. Practice it from your very first day, at every opportunity possible. You wont get it right every time however. Learn the art of non-verbal communication. The understanding smile. The "I'm listening" pose. The encouraging pat on the back...

-And what ever your do, be professional. That means how you act, how you look, what you say, and how you behave.

I hope I can get better at all of this and everything else I learn during this next year.

Why nursing?

"Why do you want to be a nurse?" This is a question a student nurse really has to have a good answer to. My answer got me into uni, earned the respect of my mentors, and even impressed a doctor! It is a question I have thought long and hard about. I didn't dream about it as a child, or even give it a second thought during my teens. Early adulthood saw my dreams turn to ashes, and I was left clutching a baby. A baby who nearly killed me.

I remember that evening like it was yesterday, I was scared. So very scared. I'm sure your first reaction is that I was frightened of motherhood or birth, but it was neither. I was scared of dying. I wrote a letter to my mum and dad, to my boyfriend, and to my baby. The midwife told me it would be ok, that she would take care of me. And she did.

On the last push, out flew my 9lb 10 baby boy. As I cried and reached out to him, he was whisked away from me. I thought there was something wrong with him. I stared anxiously to where they took him, but when i looked at my boyfriends face I realised what was wrong. He was as white as a sheet staring at me. As I looked down I saw a pool of blood, and when i looked up I saw the midwife. She cupped her hands round my face and said "Its going to be alright ok? just keep with me" and on that she hit the panic button and began scooping the blood with her hands into a kidney dish, whilst instructing and anxious student to push down as hard as she could on my tummy. Suddenly there was a room full of people, 2 scooping up the blood, 1 pushing on my tummy, another setting up drips, and a doctor anxiously chewing on his pen. As i watched the blood pouring out of me, i gradually felt myself slipping away. The room grew dark, and the voices began to fade. "Don't you let go, fight with me Julianne, come on fight!" she said. And for a second or two I didn't want to, It felt peaceful slipping away. But then I remembered the blood on her hands, her selflessness, how she was determined to take care of me. So I fought back. Battling to keep my eyes open I heard someone say that they had got the bleed. The bleeps and alarms stopped sounding, and the cuff on my arm stopped squeezing. The nurses stopped scooping, and the doctor stopped chewing his pen.

Looking up at the midwife, I didn't need to ask why she became a nurse. It was all there in her eyes. She had made a positive difference to someones life. She had encouraged and supported me, she had given me medication that had saved my life. She had scooped my blood up with her own hands. She had spoke words that made me fight for my life. She did it because she liked being on the front line, and didn't mind doing the messy jobs. Her calm voice informed her colleagues all they needed to know about me. Her watchful eye noticed my blood pressure dropping before the bleeping alarm. She wanted to care for the whole person, not just a condition. That was the doctors job. And from that moment I knew I wanted to be a nurse.

I want to make that difference. That difference can be made in small often unnoticed ways such as an extra blanket, or a drink of water. It can be touching a mothers arm and a reassuring smile as she watches her child be taken to theatre. It can be cleaning up vomit and feces, or scooping up blood in your hands. It can be administering life saving care.

However big or small I want to make that difference. I know how it feels to be nursed and I want to nurse back. And wherever this career takes me, I hope that I never forget why I am doing this. For knowing why, is what will make me the nurse I want to be.

I'm back!

It seems my first attempt at blogging was deemed to the same fate as my first failed attempt at diary writing back in 1994. Subsequent years saw pages full of my ramblings so perhaps the same will happen here? No promises, lets wait and see shall we...

So what have I been up to this past year? Well its possibly been the best year of the last decade for me, which is easy since the millennium started with and all time low and my poor little life has been gradually recovering since. I think a summery of the most important bits would be best, or this post will send both you and I to sleep :)

Nursing

After 3 months of lectures and preparations at uni, I was let loose on children's ACAD ward at Queens hospital. Here I am trying on my uniform for the first time :) It had its highs and lows but on the whole I had a fantastic time. I felt so humbled that even as a student, parents trusted me with their children's welfare. Yes it was emotionally demanding caring for sick children, but that was overwhelmed by the privilege of looking after children and their families at perhaps one of the hardest times of their lives. This was particularly true on oncology day (children with cancer) I was both moved and amazed by some of the patients and their families that I met. The staff were great too, they treated me like one of them (which I hear is unusual for students). I was really encouraged by their feedback and support throughout the placement.

My other placement was at a Special School looking after children with severe learning disabilities. Very different from working in the clinical area, but again a fantastic experience. Really missed the staff and kids when I left.

Passed all exams with more or less flying colours, and just like that my first year is over! Will miss some of my uni buddies when get split up round different campuses this year :(

Friendship

Back in Hornchuch in 2001, a pregnant me moved in next door to a lovely young lady called Emma (top in picture) We soon became the best of friends, like we had known each other all our lives. Partners in crime, we painted the town red on our nights off from being mums. We spent lazy summer days sunbathing, leading into late nights eating BBQ food and drinking wine. She was there when I hit rock bottom again with yet another family death in the house, and was with me when I gave birth to Oliver. When my ex got us into so much debt, we had to sell up. I thought it wouldn't change our friendship. At first it didn't, but eventually we talked less and less. To this day I am not so sure what actually stopped us talking. I think the longer time went on, it became more and more awkward to just pick up the phone as we used to be so close. A good year or so passed, although I missed Emma, I just accepted we had grown apart.

The relevance of me writing this here, is that we bumped into each other last year Christmas shopping. It was a little awkward at first, but we gradually re found our friendship. In someways is stronger now than it ever was. Talking of neighbours, I have found another close friend in Lianne (To the right in picture) who is my present next door neighbour. Bubbly, funny, and fantastic company. I feel a certain TV theme song coming on...

Lisa (Pictured bottom) remains my sister I never had. Rock solid, unselfish, and always there. To me she's an angel, Lisa is the girl to go to with a moral dilemma. She is such a nice girl, I have never met anybody so kind. A woman with guts too, she would do anything for someone she loves.

Catherine is Catherine (pictured left). There just is no other way to describe her uniqueness. A Bundle of fun, life, and passion in a half pint package. Sometimes too passionate, Cat is full of emotion. As much as I love her I must confess her turmoils can be wearing, mainly because I feel powerless to help her when I desperately want to. I'm sure she would mind me saying that, its no criticism. You gotta love Cat :)

Although I have other friends, these 4 have been the most prominent in my life this year. The experiences we have shared this year mean so much to me.

Wedding

I got married! June 20th 2009 1pm, I actually made it up the aisle. The relevance in this statement is that it was actually the 3rd time I had been engaged, earning a bit of a reputation as the 'Run Away Bride' I made practically everything from the bouquets, to invitations. It was an incredibly stressful couple of months, but everything looked amazing when it came together on the day. More about that some other time perhaps as this post has gone on somewhat!

So here I am now, about to start my second year of nursing. After a long lazy summer, I'm ready to go back. In fact I cant wait! I'm missing being just me, which is perhaps what has made this year so perfect. I think I lost myself a bit, easily done when your a mother. Before I had children I used to have time to ponder, reflect, and take things in. Now for the first time since they were born I have that time, and its very precious to me, almost as precious as them.