Break time

There exisits a room the existence of which is only mentioned in hushed tones. A room full of fear and trepidation. The staff canteen.
In this room the inexplicible is mixed with the inedible. Staff go there in the hope that lunch is some wonderous delight. That hope buoyed by the smell that eminates from behind the doors. Your hopes raise, your guard drops, then you see the offerings underneath the heat lamps. The sense of loss is immense, even if what you lost never existed in the first place.
You try it anyway, in the hope that it tastes better than it looks. Yet again your hopes are dashed.
You deside to wash the taste away with a hot drink, so you tempt the vending machine, hoping the cups have been refilled the right way up.
Pass this first hurdle and you are faced with the hot drink version of russian roulete. Once you find a drink you try it out. If youre lucky it will be at a drinkable temprature. Otherwise its hotter than a certain apple pie.
Of course if this does happen to you there is always hope that the radio will bust into life and you have to rush off somewhere, and upon your return suddenly and mysteriously loosing your appitite. But for some reason that seems rarer than a decent meal.

Spare Time

Does anyone ever seem to have enough time? I know I don't. I get up at the start of the day with a million and one things to do, and go to bed at the end of the day with a million and two things to do.
I have no clue where time goes, I can be sitting reading or writing and an hour passes in the blink of an eye. Equally so with patients, recently I found myself talking to a kid waiting for someone to come and pick him up to take him home, it seemed like 10, maybe 15 minutes passed. Until that is I compared times on the PRF, 2 hours.
My time is going to get even more spread out soon, because, even though it might not be on here, I still write, and one of my pieces is soon to be published on the interweb, and if it is well recieved, I shall have more to write, which will take up more time.
That is not to mention maintaining the illusion of a social life, working, trying not to get burried under paperwork, and the teenage motto, I will clean my room next chance I get.
So if anyone happens to have a delorian with a flux capacitor it would greatly help me out if I could borrow it, thanks.

reflections

I look at my reflection, be it in a window, mirror or even a puddle and I see my past, my present and my future reflected back at me.
I stare for a thousand miles, it could be at nothing at all or the most important thing in the world.
I don't have all the answers, I can't tell you what the future holds, I'm as human as they come, flawed and unique. I'm also quite cynical but that's life for you.
However, I try my hardest to help, I try to make the future less scary, I try to be there for my friends, but sometimes I feel it isn't enough

new year, same story

Well, I haven't been posting much here recently, that's because I haven't done much work, January was a slow month.
The only work I did then was new years day, I covered a gay night, one of the biggest south of the river. And, well, let's put it this way, drugs are as common as alcohol at these nights. Security do a fine job and stop a lot getting through, but without doing strip searches on every guest then some is always gonna get it. It usually becomes a problem if it's been cut with something dodgy, or more commonly, the drugs are mixed and matched, or the idiot taking them takes too much. GHB is the most common, with MDMA, Ketamine, Methadone and weed all putting in appearances. 4 people went to resus that night.
It all really picked up again this weekend. Friday was a dead slow night, international students, so no big deal there, I got home early, after blagging my way into a shut tube station to top up my oyster card. Oh, and being completely oblivious to a drunk throwing up right in front of me on the bus home, but hey ho.
Saturday night, well, that was, shall we say, interesting. I shan't go into detail here as, well, it might make some readers blush. I shall leave it as it was a fetish night, and aside from the normal mix of drunks there was also an interesting injury, but not in the way you might expect.
Finally, we had Sunday night. It was an underage party, so 14-18 year old kids, that haven't discovered personal hygiene, or any sort of respect. I shall confess, I did get annoyed at them, to the point you could hear me shouting above the music at these kids to shift every time I needed to get somewhere, and I made them co-operate simply with a look.
That night had the mix of kids getting drunk before, and getting high during, this time on e's. That is the dumbest thing to do in a club, on the dance floor, as exemplified by one girl who ended up having a febrile convulsion because of it, then tried to tell us she had epilepsy, even though her temp was 38.9 or something similar, 5 minutes after she came into our very cool medical room, topless and in shorts. Yeah, photosensitive epilepsy my arse.
She had a lucky escape, however others might not. So be careful.