Counting down

Just one week to go before I leave my current job and move to The Hospital Next Door. This morning I walked into the changing room to find a sign announcing my farewell and the associated celebrations - dinner next week, pub session the week after - and was touched to find it had been thoughtfully decorated with a lovely picture of David Tennant as The Doctor standing outside the TARDIS with a cheeky smile on his face. I was completely taken by surprise and it made me both happy and sad.

I've been in my current position for just over seven years. It's the longest I've ever stayed with one employer and it's going to be a wrench to go. Don't get me wrong, I'm ready to leave. I've had a lot of issues with management - and some staff - during my time there, I know I've got no chance of progressing in my career and I've had it up to my eyeballs with a lot of the lazier, younger nurses. But I'm also going to miss a lot. I've met some amazing people. I've cared for some wonderful patients and their families. I've cried, I've shouted, I've slammed doors. I've told people to shove things where the sun doesn't shine. But I've laughed till I've cried. I've done good things. I've led by example. I've maintained high standards of professionalism. I've had some deep and meaningful conversations with the most unlikely people. I've held secrets, I've helped people - and been helped in return. I've spent too much time in the pub. I've met kindred spirits and I've made friends for life.

So, next Friday I'll have to submit to the ritual 'afternoon tea' that waits for all staff members who leave. At some point in the afternoon a nurse will take a sheet and place it over a table in the tearoom as a token tablecloth. A cake will be placed on the table, along with a farewell card, a bunch of flowers and a present of some description. Another nurse will be despatched to gather staff and they'll all sit in the tearoom and wait for me, chatting and giggling. Someone will want to sign the card at the last minute. The senior nurse will then come and find me, asking me to come for a walk. The walk will lead to the tearoom and I'll arrive to a round of applause and cheers. There will be a speech, thanking me for all my hard work and wishing me well. I'll probably cry. I'll thank everyone, cut into the cake and have a cup of tea.

At the end of the day I'll hand in my locker key and leave the changing room for the last time. I'm ready to go. I'm looking forward to the challenge ahead. But it's going to hurt all the same.

Jumping the gun

I had an interview last Thursday at The Hospital Next Door for a job I really wanted. It went okay. Not brilliant, but okay. When Friday came and went without any news I managed to convince myself that I hadn't got the job. This isn't as paranoid as it sounds, honest. A previous interview at The Hospital Next Door recently was less than successful. I was heard to later remark that it couldn't have gone any worse if I'd stood on the table and done a big wee. Or something like that. Anyway, I didn't get it and the way I found out was by letter 10 days later. I mean, the penny had dropped well and truly before then but you get the picture.

At 7am this morning I was standing at the traffic lights, cup of coffee in hand, contemplating the day when a person appeared next to me. It was the boss from The Hospital Next Door.

"Sorry I haven't been in touch," says she. "I couldn't get hold of anyone I needed to speak to on Friday."

Yes, readers.

I got the job.

That'll teach me.

Fail

So. I didn't get it.

Bugger.

Oh well.

On fence sitting and risk taking

Yes. I chickened out of applying for the hospice job.

I wanted to, I really did. I was all fired up but my enthusiasm waned on a daily basis. I got cold feet. I thought about it long and hard but when the closing date passed I didn't feel a pang of regret. There's another potential escape route in sight, however, in the form of a nine month maternity relief position with a view to extend in The Hospital Next Door. It's a public hospital which scares me slightly as I've worked in the private sector for over 12 years now but maybe it's time to get out of my comfort zone. Yes, I know. We've all heard that one before and look what happened. Nothing.

I'm slightly torn about this one although I'm feeling more enthusiastic this time round. Without saying too much (you never know who's reading) it'd be a promotion. I emailed my CV and a covering letter last week and received an email the following day from the manager telling me my covering letter was missing some information and could I send it again, please? I didn't get the email till a couple of days later as I was in sunny South Australia in a house with two other adults, four children and a Red Setter. I came back to Sydney last night to two messages on my answerphone from the manager asking me to resend my letter. The closing date was originally the 31st of March and they've extended it by a week. So, she either really wants me to get it or no one else has applied for it. I'm somewhat worried about being unemployed in nine months time so I do have to really think about this but I'm going to apply and see what happens.

In other news - Adelaide was nice if not very noisy. The dog was the best behaved member of the entire family as well as having a shiny coat and an amazing tail. Dogs are much nicer than people, don't you think? I ate a lot of chocolate, too many hot cross buns and drank a moderate amount of South Australian rose.

Oh, and my computer died a couple of weeks ago. This blog is brought to you courtesy of my beautiful new MacBook Pro. It's hard to save money when you keep spending it but my, it's a wonderful thing. I am officially obsessed with widgets. And Red Setters. And chocolate.