I looked at the duty rota and my heart sank. No, really sank. Imagine sitting on one of those fairground rides. It slowly hauls you up to some stomach churning height. Then, after a brief pause, plummets you back down to earth so fast, that the 18 stone kid next to you hovers in zero gravity for what seems like a lifetime. That's the feeling I had when I saw who I was going to be spending the next ten hours of the night shift with.

Ok, so the night shift was generally quieter than the day but the problem lay in the fact that there were only two staff. No-one else to break the monotony. All that was fine if you got along with the person you were working with. Not quite so fine, however, if they annoyed you so much you wanted to stab them repeatedly with a kitchen knife at four o'clock in the morning, just for being there.


Don't get me wrong. I generally get on with most people. If you asked around, most of my colleagues would say that they enjoyed working with me. It's not even as if I'm horrible to her, Paula. Well, maybe a bit horrible. It's just such hard work. But my fate is sealed. There it is in black and white. Ten hours of hell. I can't wait.


21:00 HOURS

The door crashes open and Paula bustles in. I sigh as I catch sight of the pile of papers bulging out of her bag. No doubt she'll read every story to me, expecting and in depth discussion on their relative merits. Handover takes three times longer that usual, as everything has to be repeated at a level loud enough to make your ears bleed. Not only does Paula talk non-stop, she does so excruciatingly loudly due to being deaf as a post. She refuses to believe, however, that there is anything wrong with her hearing. Instead, she believes that the youth of today all mumble incoherently.


I watch as the afternoon staff gather their bags and head for the door.
'Please don't leave me alone with her, not for ten hours.'� I silently scream these words and have to
stop myself from physically restraining them from going home. My heart makes its final plummet as the door swings shut.



23:15 HOURS

I have just finished the drug round and have minimised contact with Paula as best I can. Now, however, she is sitting opposite me, flicking through the pages of the first of many newspapers she has picked out of her bag. I know she is heading straight for the obituaries. I frantically try delaying tactics by asking her to do small jobs and to check on patients but she's having none of it. Determinedly, she finds the right page and starts with the A's:

'Anderson, James. After a short illness, peacefully passed away at the age of 85 at Rose lawns Nursing Home. Will be greatly missed by his loving wife Ruby and daughter, Ann.'�

'No more pain and anguish dad,
Your time had come at last.
Rest your head,
On God's soft bed,
Your suffering all past.'�

'Honestly, they've copied that from one of last week's verses. You think people would make a bit of an
effort, especially if they're having a poem.'�

I felt the term 'poem' was taking things a little too far but was reluctant to be drawn into a literary debate whilst still only on the A's. It was going to be a long, long night.


04:00 HOURS

Mr Taylor is a lovely man. 58 years old, happily married with a grown up family. He'd been admitted with high blood pressure and was having a few tests. It was about four o'clock when I noticed that he was looking a bit pale and clammy so I went over too see if he was okay. Just as I got there, his alarm goes off. He's having a cardiac arrest. I pull the curtains around the bed and press the button that calls the emergency team onto the ward.

'Paula, he's crashing. Get the trolley, quick.'� I shout this as loudly as I can to make sure she hears me.

With that I start CPR and await the arrival of the crash team. From the end of the ward I can hear this sort of trundling sound, like something being pushed at great speed with things rattling on it. I didn't really pay too much attention as I continued CPR.

'I've got the trolley.'� Paula bellows from behind the curtain.

'Bring it in here then.'� I shout back, exasperated.

The curtains are flung back and a triumphant Paula comes hurtling in at the end of the bed with the trolley. Well, a trolley. As she stands there, still grasping the handle, I spot an immediate flaw in her plan.

'I don't think that Mr. Taylor is really up to having a cup of tea at the moment Paula. I think he might
be more interested in something that will re-start his heart.'�

Again, I have to shout this, so the whole ward can hear our conversation. Sure enough, there comes a reply,

'Have you tasted Paula's tea, nurse? If that doesn't shock his heart back into action, nothing will.'�

Paula didn't quite catch the remark, or the loud sniggering that starts up around the ward. She does, however, slowly start to realise that maybe, just maybe, she has brought the wrong trolley.

The next moment, the crash team arrive and apart from one cheeky medical student who whispers:

'White, two sugars'� as he sidles past the tea trolley, Mr Taylor's resuscitation goes quite smoothly.

06:00 HOURS

She's fallen asleep. Thank you god. I'm on full alert so I can intercept any potential noisy situations that might wake her up. Before Mr Lemming can even reach for his buzzer, I'm there with a bed pan. If I can just have and hour of no shouting I may be able to survive the shift without my blood pressure causing me a stroke. She's snoring now and like her conversation, it's loud and annoying. Not so annoying that I want to wake her up though.

I sit there, studying her face. It's not very often that I have the urge to push someone off their chair backwards but I would be lying if I didn't admit an overwhelming urge to do so at that moment. It must have shown on my face because Mr Porter, in bed four, whispered:

'Go on love. I won't tell anyone.'�

We had a little laugh together, quietly. Then I noticed it was getting light outside. I'd nearly made it through the shift.

'When are you on again, love?'� Mr Porter asked.

'Tonight, Mr Porter. You've got the pleasure of my company for another ten hours, you lucky man.'�

'Who are you on with?'� He innocently asked.

I hadn't let my mind travel that far into the future all night. Just surviving each hour was challenge enough. I hadn't checked the duty rota and as I thought about the possibilities I came out in a cold sweat.
I walked into the office. The anguished scream not only woke Paula but also brought the crash team back onto the ward. Like Mr Taylor, it was going to take more than a cup of tea to get through this one.

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