“In examinations, the foolish ask questions the wise cannot answer.” - Oscar Wilde

Hello, is it me you're looking for? Probably not.

Anyway, the inquest last week.

It's over, for now. I was scared, very much so, and I was only a witness by the way, not accused of anything.

But I'm the type of person who passes a Police Officer in the street, and feels guilty, for no apparent reason.

There were all the expected accouterments one expects from TV and films, microphones, a jug of water, a witness stand so on and so forth.

By all accounts I did very well, my Charge Nurse shook my hand and said he was proud of me, the Chief Matron held my hand. The funny thing is I can hardly remember what I said. I was questioned for about 40 minutes apparently, it felt like seconds! Go figure...

I wore a suit and tie for the first time in about 20 years (bought especially), I picked up Billie afterwards for tea, she said I looked like a gangster.

I feel awful today, a combination of the essence stripping medication and two 13 hour shifts back to back. I'm too old for this kind of thing.

Work ,after a brief honeymoon period on the "new" ward, is becoming increasingly busy. The reduced staffing numbers are problematic, as is friction with the ward we partially occupy. Plus I and my colleagues seem to be suffering a kind of "survivors guilt" for the five members of staff who were left behind. I really feel bad for them...

Born to lose... from yakkowarner on 8tracks Radio.

“Whenever people agree with me I always feel I must be wrong.”