A brief history...

I've been meaning to start this blog for a while but, as ever, life got in the way.

So, here I am at the end of my first day at Bangor University studying Adult Nursing. It seems to have been a really long journey to here but also really short at the same time. Just a bit of history for those who have any interest in what and who have brought me to this point in my life.

I started working in care over three years ago. It began after a phone call from the Job Seekers office informing me that they had an interview for me with a care company for a role as a Support Worker caring for an individual in a 24/7 setting on a 1:1 basis. They offered me the job.

The individual eventually left the company I was working for when I went to work with some super cool people at HMV. I was even cool myself for a while...until my seasonal contract ended and I followed my friend like a little lost sheep to where her sister worked - a nursing home that cared for people with behaviours which challenge. It was here that I really began to enjoy my job as a HCSW (Health Care Support Worker to those who don't know what the hell I'm on about) - I can almost hear those who worked with me there thinking, 'REALLY?!'

I really did meet some of the loveliest, kindest and craziest people I have met this far in my journey, and just a side note here - I'm not being unprofessional, I'm talking about my colleagues.

Man, that is a hard job. A job where no-one truly understands the difficulties you face unless they work in the same place as you, then you can all whinge about bad days together whilst swearing profusely on coffee break outside. On the flip side, only colleagues would truly understand when you get really stupidly excited that the resident who hasn't had a poo in ten days finally opened their bowels - some of the time it would be on your shoes but WHO CARES? THEY HAD A POO!
Some days you'd have to walk out the building to have a little cry, I did that quite often in the beginning but I'd like to think I toughened up quite quickly. Sticks and stones.

By this point in my career I was a single parent. I applied for sociable hours within the company I worked for as I felt as though I was pushing my son from pillar to post (another side note - I'm not sure that feeling will ever go away) and to cut a rather boring story short, I moved to one of the sister homes of the company rather rapidly, where they could give me set days to work instead of following a shift pattern.

So there I was facing a fresh new challenge, going from caring for younger people (and by younger I mean younger than 65) with challenging behaviour, to caring for older people with dementia. All of a sudden I was in this new home with new people and new residents and new nurses. I often look back at this and think how easy it would have been to completely bail and go back up to the other home. It was the best choice I ever made to stay.

The biggest shock I think I had was how hard elderly people can pack a punch. Those guys really know where to get you, I'm telling you. I really feel that this is where my patience really started to grow and evolve with my confidence and I think that a lot of that had to do with love for the residents. My blood, sweat and tears went in to that job, literally.

I learnt to bite my tongue. That wasn't an issue with the residents, there is a very large barrier that comes up mentally when it comes to safeguarding them, I learnt to bite my tongue whilst watching the injustice of the healthcare system throw out mental health patients, MY residents, who I care for and love, which all the staff complained about, and still do. Anyway, another story for another day.

It was here that I experienced my first deaths; the death of a resident at hospital, and the death of a resident at the home. People will tell you that you can't get attached to people that you care for but I'm calling bullshit on that - that is what makes you human and a good, caring person.

In the midst of all this, the idea had started to form in my mind that I could try and be a nurse. I mean, I loved my job, a lot. I loved all parts of it. With the gentle encouragement from my colleagues and the knowledge that I couldn't professionally better myself in the role I was in, I decided to enrol on an Access to Higher Education diploma course that began in the September of last year. The purpose of this course is basically to educate people who have been out of the education game for a while and want to get back on the saddle with university, etc.

I'm going to keep this one short - to this day I have absolutely no idea how I managed to pass this course with enough credits to be accepted not only to Cardiff University but to Bangor University, too. It was the most difficult, stressful and challenging thing I have done in my life so far; and I've even given birth. The major upshot of this was that I made some really cool and super clever friends whilst there and without them I would never have lasted the race.

So, after that brief and rather boring summary, all of the above brought me to be accepted on to the Adult Nursing course and Bangor University. I have felt a whole range of emotions over the past year but 'proud' is coming up trumps as of late.

As I began this blog, I was at the end of my first day. Now as I am typing, I am at the end of my first week. I'm hoping to update it at least once a week, I'm going to pop another post up after this one about my first week.

Happy long weekend to us :)