Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: FERHOODLE (confuse or mix-up) (03/03/16)
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TITLE: One Size Fits All... | Previous Challenge Entry
By Danielle King
03/10/16 -
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Five minutes passed before anyone answered. “Have you brought me choppers dear?” Floss looked down at the tiny lady and wondered why she wore a cardigan inside out. “You’d better come in then. I can’t chew me teacake.”
A woman in navy pulled off plastic gloves and strode up the corridor. “Janey Higgins, how many more times?” She winked at Floss. “Only a nurse can answer the door.”
“You must be our work-experience student. I’m Sue, ward manager. Welcome to our world.”
A kafuffle broke out in the lounge area. Hmmm… handbags at dawn. A woman with sticky back fasteners on sheep-skin slippers exploded into a barrage of expletives, aimed at the man attempting to free his itinerant cardigan sleeve from Velcro’s powerful jaws. “And what’s yer hands doing down there anyway?”
“It’s a love/hate relationship,” Sue laughed - just ten seconds before the whack of a walking stick reverberated from his backside.
“And your name?”
“Floss.” And don’t DARE mention my hair.
“Hmmm, suits! C’mon then. You can tag on to a nurse today, ‘til you find your feet.”
Floss asked for the loo. Behind the door she pulled out her phone and tapped a message. Duh! Gummy geriatrics with pee bags ‘n’ drool. Double gross.
Sue allocated Dave to mentor Floss. “Twilight’s a good starting point for learners.” Hmmm, fit guy, Dave. “Most of these old dears are awaiting beds in nursing homes.” Dears? Floss suppressed a snort. ”You plan to study nursing, right?” Not this kind mate, never.
Sue bobbed her head around the door. With a wry smile she gave Dave a nod.
“Right then, Floss, let’s go. Old Joe in bed 3 needs an infusion. Pop down to Day Surgery and ask for a long stand.” Tsk! So I’m the runner now – not! Itchy fingers drummed a phantom text.
Downstairs was a revelation. Phones and bleeps; trolleys, drips, monitors, and uniformed bods scuttling like spiders, everywhere. Floss’ eyes widened. Yeah. Love the action. Defo my style.
“Hey Candy.” A nurse approached.
“Floss,” she snarled. “The name’s Floss.”
“Ah. You want a long stand, right?” She nodded. “OK. Wait over there then. Saves you getting trampled.”
One hour later, and Floss could not contain her exasperation any longer. “Excuse me.” She prodded a passing porter. “We have a patient needing an infusion upstairs. I’m waiting for a long stand.” He glanced at the clock.
“You’ve stood long enough, kid. See ya.”
Floss stomped off with burning cheeks and a stinging ego.
Back upstairs, the ambience became punctuated with an air of mirth. Dave glanced at his watch. “Floss, will you do the teeth, please?”
“Huh?”
“A night staff knocked. There’s only two on, so it’s one job less. A good team always helps each other out.”
“Ewww! I can’t do…”
“Hey, it’s easy. Look for the denture pots on lockers.”
“And then what?”
“Tip ‘em out, scrub ‘em up and return ‘em.”
She slunk out her phone – OMG! You will NOT believe this…
Being a smart kid, Floss devised a plan of action. Starting at bed 1, she screwed her eyes tightly shut, slopped the contents of the nasty little pot into the bowl of dish-washing liquid she’d grabbed from the kitchen, and then repeated the procedure from bed to bed. Until, bed 9…
“You’ll need to take them out for me, sweetie, I’ve got arthritic fingers.” I did not hear that. NO WAY did I hear that. Bad tinnitus.
She scurried off with the hideous load, dumped them under a fast running tap and turned her back. Humph! Fit guy thought I’d chicken out, did he!!!
Rinsing done, Floss carried the nauseating heap back to the owners. And ooops, the moment of enlightenment…
The task of pairing 15 tops with 15 bottoms was daunting. But the realisation that 15 full sets of gnashers, then needed to be matched up to 15 pairs of gums, was toe-curlingly cringe-worthy.
“All done, Floss?” Dave watched the ashen cheeks glow scarlet.
“Oh… this is a first!”
On hearing what happened Sue erupted into an unrestrained belly-laugh. “And what did you say, Dave?”
“I told her the only way was to try fitting each individual set, starting with bed1, until she scores.”
“Well Dave, that should fix the attitude problem. Now what about the pink hair?”
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This was really a fun piece.
It may have been a grind to write, but fangs for such an incisor-ive piece, and congratulations on your placing and your EC.
Loved the self-deprecation that trickles through your work. Well done.