Dear Blog, you must think I have abandoned you and I admit my guilt in neglecting you but you must realise that there are other dimensions to my life. However, I will try to do better.

The particular story I am about to relate started with my calming two, near tearful, members of staff who were at the end of their tethers with a difficult client. Then onto calming said client who, in floods of tears, couldn't understand why we couldn't just pick all her sixteen stone up, bodily, and place it just where, when, how she wanted, without the use of equipment.
By eight a.m. I ached everywhere and mused that this was just the first hour of the shift. This client is one of several who need lots of our physical and emotional effort plus the two we are nursing in bed, both looking at death at very close quarters. Then I juggled the various dynamics of staff tensions. If I didn't have another agenda, one that is spiritual rather than temporal, would I work this five day week, including evening, weekends, bank holidays, for eighteen thousand a year? I'm pretty sure no man would!
It's hard work and even more so at weekends when we have one less pair of hands and the same amount of work. So, we do more work for the same money. It rankles but I am told this is the way it always was, will, has, to be. Put up and shut up.
Rant over.