When in pain, when angry or upset, which words come to my lips?
Dr Rod’s Odd Blog (almondemotion)
My thoughts on creativity, health and social care and their relationship to human emotions
When in pain, when angry or upset, which words come to my lips?
Feeling quite well, yet, The doctor has said, I am sick, he suggested, using indirect speech that I might die, perhaps tonight. Malcom Gladwell Calls it mitigated language: ‘Captain, perhaps, you should look out of the… window; Is our altitude not a little low?’ My oxygen requirement Is too great My arterioleContinue reading “Slow reader”
When our obsession with
Wraps you-up in so much bubble-wrap
That you’re gone,
We have done something wrong.
It is the way we teach people to blindly follow protocols, pathways and guidance; it is what makes the nurse challenge my wearing a watch but miss all the dirt on the floor or the nurses not washing their hands; it is, to quote Master Lee, staring at the finger and missing the heavenly glory.
That is the best way to end-up with an unhappy, mediocre, computer programmer. Not a happy lepidopterist.
There is a theory, developed by Ellen Langer, Professor of Psychology at Harvard that there is a thing going-on with uniforms. Yes, none of us needed a US academic to tell us that uniforms do something, it is more the effect they have, not just on those who engage with the individual in said togs,Continue reading “Uniforms”
Now, this is going to be a tricky one. This is because, it is part confession, with a little pre and post-hoc rationalisation. Are you intrigued? I may as well just jump-in, like you do at the Lido, head-first, only concern that your heart might stop. Now, I feel it is OK to come-clean aboutContinue reading “Immature”
Nothing to do With you or me, my likes or dislikes of your style of dress or pattern of speech. It is outside the narrow confines of my struggle with your personality, No, This is, purely professional. It’s complicated. Promotions, demotions, shifting left and right. I am not your man or woman, You aren’t it,Continue reading “It’s purely professional.”
I now request that we pull on another string of person-centredness.
Sure, this is not as good as someone popping-in and checking on you, but it is better than the fear of being found collapsed, dead, on your carpet at the weekend when your family call round to visit.
When was the last time you saw someone you don’t know asleep? This happens to me every day. It is a standard of hospital practice; take a person, young or old, lay them in bed, add the complexities of an acute medical illness and there you go. Asleep. This does not mean that at threeContinue reading “Asleep”
I struck upon this last night after reading the section in Hilary Cottam’s book, ‘Radical Help’ (See below). It is interesting, how people acquire certain statuses – handicapped, disabled, impaired; the same applies to housebound. This is a term we use to describe – I imagine (I haven’t consulted the dictionary), a person who isContinue reading “Housebound”
It was a few years ago. I cannot remember her name. I do recall, she was old. Perhaps 90. Long, often messy hair, sometimes in pony tails, still dark. She was thin. As a… rake. And, intermittently her level of upset would increase; Whether from fear, pain, anxiety or insight, I do not know. And,Continue reading “Pain”
I don’t think I have written much in the past about Hitler. It is not a topic I am that comfortable describing. (Sorry for the awkward grammar – isn’t that appropriate?). Sure – it is easy for me to express my position – it is the same as everyone else, but, when entering into theContinue reading “Hitler on the M1”
When I was a kid, travelling unstrapped in the back of yellow Kadett, windows up, tarry Benson and Hedges mist choking the air on a dreich Glasgow morning; that was the world of the time. We now sit, strapped, hands-free, hybrid-car, cruising along motorways controlled by super-computers. Things change. Times change. Modernisation; moving-on, developing, growing.Continue reading “Changing narrative”
They are either lovers or perhaps husband and wife Passing shifts, morning and night; He’s waiting, Half-drunk coffee; sees her through the window, waves; She buys small yoghurt pot (Greek Style, Bio-Live, Raspberry) And sits beside. He has already moved the chair so it is easier For her to Sit. They talk.Continue reading “Cafè Nero, Leeds.”
It is intriguing To see How many people I see Preaching Continuous Improvement As a science, A methodology For saving the planet Who forget To look at Themselves, Who forget To look inward And see That The First Step In moving towards something, is acknowledging The flaws in your Self. This is not toContinue reading “Spyglass”
I walked down by the old railway yesterday, Wondering Whether I would be done for trespassing. The rails you see Have been taken away, Sold I am certain To China, A contribution towards My next smartphone. So, No rails, Just rocks Where the locomotives used to run And banks of Soil And sandContinue reading “Railway”
Annie says There might be Rats In the garden. The last time I saw a rat (barring my Mumbai street-toilet incident last month) Was a few years ago In Crane Moor. I had been enthusiastically Feeding the birds With lard coated peanuts Which Attracted the attention Of a local hedgehog. With JoyContinue reading “‘Rats’”
I filled The Niger Seed Feeder The other week Hoping For attention From the Goldfinches. Alas, None have arrived. The Blue And Great Tits are ganning The grain; The rook and dove, Robin and sparrow, And even a Chaffinch Or two, But no Goldie. Alas.
Are you ready To die Today? Now? Are your affairs In order? Plans, wills and wishes? Regrets Hanging in the After-life… Go, Make your bed And Prepare.
(When was the last time anyone checked the dirt level of an NHS keyboard)(Oops, should have said that – the snap response there is sometimes keyboard-condom rather than ‘clean the thing’ the former making touch-typing a nightmare)(when you do get to type, rather than write, which is a mixed-methods form of data collection, common in the health service).
I remember When, Last year We travelled Or was it, You see, We always holiday in, Or perhaps, It is just something We do. It isn’t easy when, But you do your best Ha. Catch-phrases Wilting on the vine. Dying for originality. And, The plane touched-down At the small Airfield AtContinue reading “Oh, yes.”
I Stand And try not to breathe-in The stale exhalation that, Smells like Death From Tired mouth-breathing giant. Fumes of travel, Confined space and coffee coated tongue. Repeated phrases so resonant In my mind That I am willing to bang my head Against the wall to stop them. Trapped, on the cuspContinue reading “Stale breath”
…the naughty man will take you away. I overhear waiting to return home from recent trip to India. Tired, washed-out stripped of my Core. and I see two women struggling with little children, toddlers, tugging sticky fingers and pudgy arms. All as bewildered as me by the light, by the experience emergingContinue reading “Overheard”
Life, When seen from above, or, Outside Can be understood By the image Of pushing a door. Rattling, Shaking the handle, Searching for a key. Shoving, Kicking, Banging. Until you learn That you must pull and Magically What was immovable, is now The past.
I wrote a few months ago about one of the NHS terms that cause me feelings of anxiety – DToC, in other words, the acronym used to describe people who are deemed by the ‘system’ to be ‘delayed transfers of care’ – this being, people, mostly older, often frail, frequently living with dementia who areContinue reading “Super-stranded”
This is me. Who I am. the top and bottom back and front. My One Page Profile. Me. I so often hover in the periphery not wanting to upset the cart, worrying about the ripples I risk creating. That is to say… This is what I think… and believe Is something I only really doContinue reading “Open, honest and revealing.”
I don’t know when headphones became earphones then earbuds; I think the latter was something to do with the iPhone.* This evening I went to Meadowhall, our nearby shopping centre situated off the M1 between Sheffield and Rotherham. It is a big, brash, ugly place that in years gone by was an iron factory; nowContinue reading “Earbuds and the Black Death”