Heaven Stent

 

By Big M

The first Senior Nurse’s Meeting of 2011 wasn’t as harmonious as it could have been. Dr James was keen to show of his abilities as a great administrator by producing a power point presentation, complete with graphs and pie charts, of the costs saved by closing wards over the Christmas/New Year period. He was tanned and relaxed after three weeks of annual leave, most of it spent either, at the beach, or indoors with Acacia. He was wearing a crisp, new, white shirt and paisley tie, both purchased at the post Christmas sales. Acacia was poised, ready to take the minutes. She gave him one of those ‘come hither’ smiles that made him feel weak at the knees, amongst other anatomic regions.

James was about to launch into his rehearsed tirade when Uva Kent cut in. “Don’t you dare address this meeting with talk about budget cuts, bottom lines and benchmarking!” She angrily ground her Camel into a Styrofoam cup. “Your penny-pinching staffing cuts have cost this hospital a hundred and seventeen thousand in overtime, over three weeks. Twenty-three complaints about lack of nursing care. Four back injuries because of a shortage in wardsmen, also cut to the bone. Nine to twelve ill patients lying on trolleys in Emergency every night because of lack of beds…”

James held his hand up. “Sister Kent, we are still under budget, because state health will pay the overtime from its emergency fund. This hospital may well have saved the most money on wages over December-January.”

Uva was livid. “Forget about special funds. The total monetary cost is exorbitant, plus the loss of face in the media, as well as injuries from which some staff may never recover.”

“Oh, I really think you’re over exaggerating.” James simpered.

“Exaggerating…” Uva suddenly clutched at her chest. Her face was grey, and her lips moved like a carp on dry land. She collapsed to the floor.

Tess was at her side immediately. “She’s got a pulse. Call a MET Team, and someone grab some oxygen.”

Acacia rang the switchboard, whilst the Marie, the Director of Children’s Services ran to the nearest ward, returning with an oxygen cylinder on a trolley, with various masks and nasal cannulae. Tess quickly fitted a mask, all the time trying to reassure Uva that everything would be OK. Uva just looked up at Tess, clutching her chest with a look of absolute terror in her eyes. James continued to tap away at his laptop at the boardroom table, convinced it was all a sham.

The MET team arrived, and quickly placed an IV cannula, took some blood then ran off an ECG. The lead doctor started speaking on his mobile phone. “Yeah, frail looking, peripherally shut down…T-wave inversion… yeah, you know Sister Kent.” Uva was quickly bundled up onto a trolley, the MET nurse continued to infuse some morphine as they move off to Coronary Care. Tess never left her side, occasionally skipping sideways to get through doorways, all the while holding Uva’s hand, and murmuring encouraging words.

Uva woke up in Coronary Care. Tess was holding her hand. Her throat was a dry, and she was desperate for a smoke. There was an IV in each hand, and ECG electrodes across her chest. Tess leaned forward, her eyes glistened with tears. “You’re awake. Thank Christ, you gave us a scare.” She proffered some water from a plastic cup, with a straw. Uva took a long sip.

Dr Kumar and Dr Campbell swept into the cubicle. “Ah, you’re awake. You’ve had a big inferior infarct, so we’ve inserted a couple of stents, but your heart and lungs are in pretty bad shape. A couple of things; no more smoking. We’ve already started some patches. Your cholesterol is sky high, so you need to start on a statin, and you will, when you’ve recovered start some exercise.” Dr Kumar looked very stern.

Dr Campbell stepped forward, grinning, giving her a little hug. “Thank God you’re OK, girly.” With more than a hint of a Scottish brogue. The two cardiologists left, leaving Tess and Uva alone to listen to the reassuring beeps of Uva’s ECG.

“Tess, there’s one thing you can do for me.”

Tess leaned forward. “Yes, anything.”

“I’m busting for a wee. Help me up.”

Tess shook her head, and then headed for the pan-room. While she was gone, there was an almighty crash from outside the curtains. Two nurses rush in to help the hapless visitor, who’d, not only tripped over the ‘Wet Floor’ sign, but also, had knocked over a mop and bucket. When they helped him to his feet, there stood Geoffrey, half covered in dirty water, a dry bunch of flowers held triumphantly in one hand. “Oh…er…I’m sorry…er Sister.”

Uva held out her hand. Geoffrey stepped forward, and took it. “I was…we were…all so worried….”

“Thanks Geoffrey.” Uva rasped. “I’m a tough old cow…” She finished the sentence with a rasping cough. Geoffrey passed her some water, and helped her sit up. Tess arrived with a bedpan.

“I see you’ve found a younger, male nurse to look after you.” Tess grinned.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I should go.” Geoffrey started backing out of the room, walking straight into the ‘Wet Floor’ sign, this time narrowly avoiding another fall.

Uva spent five days in hospital, and then was taken to Tess’ house to be fussed over, cooked for, and watched like a hawk for any evidence of cigarettes! Naturally, the house overflowed with flowers from various wards, and well-wishers, as well as a case of shiraz and a bottle of gin with a box of Anginine taped to the side, with a plain card, ‘ Get well soon, you old bugger, love from the MaNICS*!’ Uva had tears in her eyes every time a gift arrived, but was careful to hide them from Tess, who seemed to thrive on caring for her.

Dr James was furious. Firstly, Kent, and her cronies, had refused to utilise his award-winning PENIS during the Christmas-New Year rush. Secondly, both Kent and Tickle had taken time off unexpectedly, which meant two people would be acting in higher positions, and being paid accordingly. This would ruin his finely tuned budget. Thirdly, for reasons, which completely escaped him, Acacia had decided to not move into his townhouse, and had called him a ‘dispassionate bastard’. She had also requested a transfer away from the position of his secretary. Ah well, he thought, at least Lynx have a new ‘chick magnet’ fragrance on the market!

*Male Nurses’ Imbibers Club.