Monday 18 May 2009

Feignters

I'm in the office alone this morning. I'm supposed to be 'manning the phones' whilst the nurses are out vaccinating teenage girls, but surprisingly calls have been thin on the gorund, and I have no data entry work to do, hence updating.

As mentioned above - vaccinating teenage girls. Vaccinating. Teenage. Girls. What fun! I'm quite glad not to be there really. When I attend vaccination sessions it usually takes the same format - girls fall into three categories: the troopers; the gigglers; and the hystericals. Boys generally fare better, you get them in loud and louder.

Boys are amusing to vaccinate. Initially they are all trying to hide their worries behind bravado, heckling friends who are having theirs done, whilst quietly asking you questions such as "It's only one injection, right?", "You do use clean needles for each of us, don't you?" and "Does it hurt?" Their sincerity and worry always serves to make them look and sound about 10 years old, despite the vast majority towering over me (although, at 5'4" that's not a difficult feat to achieve), so I am always kind to them, despite wanting to giggle at their calling me "Miss". Generally afterwards the bravado comes back as they incredulously ask "Was that it?!" following their 3 second-long single injection, resulting in much crowing to their mates about how it was nothing, then punching all their mates in the sites of their injections.

The girls are another matter. The troopers are great - they come in, they roll up their sleeve, have their jab and leave without issue. The gigglers are usually ok once they get into the chair, but they are always good to make jokes with or about. It's the hystericals who are the problem. Ok, maybe I'm being harsh by lumping them all in together as hysterical. Some aren't. But there are tears and whining and asking for friends to be present. Those who have friends with them are invariably the 'performers', yelping "Owowowowowowow!" loudly whilst their vaccine is being injected - you never hear this from the girls who come in alone.

I'm not knocking those with a genuine fear, after all, I'm terrified by cotton wool and Tom Cruise; phobias come in all shapes and sizes. But it's when you get one that sits down and whines "I'm scared of needles" when she has half a jewellery shop stuck through various holes in her face and body that you have to bite your lip and look the other way. They will sometimes attempt to justify this with declarations that that was different, because it was their 'choice'. Fine dear, we're not forcing you to have this injection, that's a choice too, but the consequences may be far worse if you don't have this needle than if you didn't have the one that went through your tongue.

We do get the odd extreme cases too. Some are known to faint rather dramatically (assumedly not always genuinely) and last time this happened a note was made on our files "Feinted".

"Ok, who's the joker?" I ask.
One of my colleagues looks over, "Oh, that's me. I can't spell."
Whoops! "I thought it was intentional," I quickly rescue, "As in she feigned fainting."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," my colleague replied.
"Well, maybe it could be a new office codeword?" I suggested.

Friday 15 May 2009

The One Where I Make My Introductions

There is one thing you need to know about me:

In my world, things never go to plan.

When I was younger, I was, dare I say it myself, quite intelligent. I was usually hovering somewhere around the top of my class (although I was rarely the top) and was generally all set to go on and do great things. I wasn't great at Maths, and Physics still baffles me considerably, but I did ok in most things.

Then when I was 16 it all went to shit. I was unwell, and investigations determined I needed some quite major renovations within my chest and abdomen, which left me, after a series of unplanned events, rather debilitated. Still, I managed to get by and was off on my travels to university in North London.

Initially I had deceided I didn't want to study Psychology. I felt that it didn't offer enough variation within its discipline to keep me engaged. So I opted to study Cognitive Science, a multidisciplinary subject encorporating Psychology, Neuroscience, Artificial Intelligence, Philosophy, Linguistics and Anthropology. It was fascinating, and if I could do it again, I probably would; as continued unplanned events surrounding my health resulted in an annual panic about whether or not I could complete the course due to various maladies which always cropped up. Despite this I managed to complete the course, with some deferrals, in 3 ½ years, meeting my partner, Stevi, quite by chance towards the end of this period in my life.

After finishing the course I decided I didn't want to study any more. After drifting around like a bum for a year I was convinced by various others that it was time to go out into 'The Real World ™' and get me a job. I landed on my feet and quickly began temping for a multinational HR software company. But I got bored very quickly, and decided to enrol on a Psychology Conversion Course at another London university, in order to become an accredited Graduate Member of the British Psychological Society.

Those 18 months went by very quickly and were great fun. I began working for a small advertising agency on the South Bank of the Thames, and first got into using qualitative research methods. Of course, unplanned events always happen to me, and by the time I took my final exam, I was 15 weeks pregnant and feeling decidedly green around the gills thanks to morning sickness.

My son was born in late June 2007, 1 week early. This, for once, was a planned event. I developed pre-eclampsia so his birth was scheduled to prevent us from potentially dying. Of course, having pre-eclampsia in the first place was not planned, and he decided to get things started before any medical staff had a chance to give me labour-startng drugs.

So now, here I was, 25 years old, with two degrees, a newborn baby, and still a hope of getting to work somewhere in the realm of Health Psychology. Again I took time out, just being Mum for nearly 6 months, before a fellow graduand mentioned a distance learning course - MSc Health Psychology.

Despite missing the deadline for applications, I took a chance and was accepted onto the course on the day it actually started. On day 2 of the course I arrived bright and early, 180 miles from home, without anyone with me. It was quite a change from how I liked to play things safe. This time the unplanned events were of my making, and it was really quite exciting.

I rumbled through the course, which was difficult in places, throughout 2008 and early 2009. Thankfully despite having given birth I had managed to retain enough brain cells to make it through. In March of this year I began a new job - yet again the result of unplanned events of my own making. One night in late November I decided to browse the NHS Jobs website to see what opportunities would be open to me when I had finished my course. One job jumped out at me as one I could do right now. After some soul-searching, and discussion with Stevi, I decided to apply for the job but not to apply for anything else until I had finished the course. After all, it was the NHS, and I hadn't worked for nearly two years at this point - it was highly unlikely I'd even get the job. However, I got called for an interview, and a mere three hours after said interview I was called again to say 'welcome aboard!'

So now I'm working with children as I have always wanted, and consequently picking up every cough, cold and sore throat going around. I was due to finish my course as of a couple of weeks back. Of course, unplanned events happen to me, and my body once again decided to throw a spanner in the works, meaning I failed one exam. Well..... shit. A piffling little thing worth a mere 15% of the module, but still, statistics are important if you want to be a Psychologist, even if you prefer qualitative methods.

So here I am, currently hoping to be able to get myself a retake on medical grounds, or else spend another year studying for the sake of one module. I'll get there alright, but it's currently a question of 'when', unplanned events having a tendency to bugger things up when you really don't want them to. At least when I do get there it will be worth the wait.

This is my journey: Student, Mum, NHS employee. I want it all. I want to have my cake and eat it. Mmmmm..... Cake.....