The Delegation Argument

 

I had a very upsetting conversation once with a theatre porter. I said: "We porters are part of a life-saving team." He responded: "So if the police do a raid and catch some bank robbers, yet just before the raid the inspector asks his secretary: 'Can you pass me that pen?' and she does it, is she also part of the team who catches the bank robbers?" What made me so sad was that this theatre porter was arguing for his own worthlessness, yet that didn't deter him. Despite what you might think, it actually doesn't bother me that much when civilians look down at porters; it bothers me far more when porters look down at porters. Many many times when you, as a HP, approach others with anything short of shoulder slumping humility you will be hit with the delegation argument. "But all you do is push a trolley. If you weren't there anybody else could do it. When I was in hospital I saw a nurse pushing a trolley etc etc." This comment shows a total ignorance of hospital matters. In Ireland anaesthetists and anaesthetic nurses are not needed in delivery to do epidurals; obstetricians do their own epidurals and are assisted by midwives. Does this mean therefore that anaesthetics and anaesthetic nurses are worthless? If they then move on to the "pass the pen" development, you should ask your interrogator: "Alright then, where is the line drawn?" At what point does one become a person of value even though they can also be delegated? Is the person just to the other side of that line of no value at all? Do you see what a ridiculous and illogical point this is? In a large hospital there are porters and what we do is essential to the workings of that institution. In very some small clincs there are no porters, especially when the patients treated tend to be mobile. In very small local surgeries, especially in remote areas, there are no nurses, just one or two doctors. Anybody using the delegation argument is either ignorant or dishonest. They are nothing but conformists who cannot bear to live in a world where HP's are proud to be HP's.

It's Not a Job

 

It's a way of life! But it's difficult to explain that. In my video about Barry dying, see: https://hpanwo-tv.blogspot.com/2022/10/barry-dies.html. I describe a late night argument between myself and a senior porter at the senior's house; and the worst part was that Barry joined in and took his side in a calmer and more sensitive way. The senior was always a bit of a flash Harry. I didn't dislike him, but he sometimes rubbed me up the wrong way; however, I was obviously much fonder of Barry and so therefore his criticism felt much more uncomfortable. I had assumed he would back me up and he didn't. There was another time that happened; he thought I had done the wrong thing when I made my stand in DS, see: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2022/02/delivery-suite.html; this is despite the fact that he once lost his temper with his manager in X-ray filing and swore at her, and I backed him up. As I said in the video, Barry was like a surrogate father to me, but he was not perfect. The core of Barry's and the senior's issue with me confused me. It was actually only much later, having thought it over, that I understood it. The senior and Barry wanted me to become more conventional, "just normal" to use the convention's term for itself. Barry always said that one day he would have a "serious talk!" with me; it was when we went on our planned camping trip to Ireland in 1997. This "talk" never happened.
 
You might wonder how this is relevant, well I shall explain. Hospital portering is not a job, it's a way of life. It is something you are, not something you do. Every HP knows this deep down, but few will admit it. To admit it means going against convention because HPing is conventionally portrayed as so different, something you are simply not allowed to have those feelings for. To go against convention is extremely difficult. I've noticed that if you steal somebody's car or have an affair with their girlfriend they will respond with less hostility than they would when you make a comment that questions convention; and facing hostility from most of the people around you is very tough. As Septimius Severus said: "Most men would rather face an army than the scorn of their peers." Yet, paradoxically you might think, at the same time those same hostile people are unable to define convention. It is as if they are fish and it's the sea they swim in. The argument with the senior and Barry was confusing for me because they could not define precisely what it was they wanted from me. I kept repeating: "What exactly is your point?" The difference between them and most of the others is, they cared for me; Barry especially, but so did the senior in his own way. They wanted me to become what they are because it made their lives easier, but they couldn't put what they were into words; to them it was simply self-explanatory. As I've said before, there are HP's who are ashamed to admit that they're HP's, see: https://hpanwo.blogspot.com/2007/12/dont-tell-em-were-porters.html. Many can't even bear to tell others that they enjoy being HP's. This is really sad. If they just make the effort to stand up to convention, however hard it is at first, the rewards are extraordinary. It's a liberation like no other. The HPWA and The Gas Spanner show is all about showing you how and giving you support in your effort. Please do it!

A Stitch in Time

 

After the previous pair of angst essays it's nice to write about something cheerful for a change. There are several films called "a Stitch in Time". The phrase refer to the old mnemonic: "a stitch in time saves nine", meaning clothes mending is easier if you catch the damage early. The film I'm talking about is the 1963 Rank Organization's slapstick comedy A Stitch in Time starring Norman Wisdom. I say "starred", but in reality Norman created a genre of his own. The story follows Norman being his usual self-styled character in the form of a young butcher's apprentice. He ends up at a hospital where he meets a young girl who has been struck mute since her parents suddenly died. Being his characteristic empathic clown, Norman makes a huge effort to keep visiting her in order to care for her and heal her, resulting in the usual hilarious chaos. What is interesting is that at one point he decides to take on the job of a porter and the porters at that hospital have a very unusual transfer method. The patients are not moved on wheeled vehicles by hand; they are put on stretchers and are driven on small electric cars which the porters drive. Source: https://youtu.be/bUBBvU_ReMU?si=K4td55XODgvjkT2L&t=980. I've never heard of such a thing, especially as long ago as 1963, when the film was made. There are machines known as "bed pushers", for example: https://www.felgains.com/care-products/felgains-gz10sl-slimline-hospital-bed-and-stretcher-mover/; but they were never a thing until the 2000's and they only provided motive force to assist the porter, who was walking as usual. They were not a vehicle by definition. I remember them being abandoned by management because of their expense and inefficiency. I suspect the vehicles in the film were imaginary and invented by the production designers; because they are used for great comedic effect when Norman races one of the porters along a corridor. Of course HP's are being listed for replacement by AI's, and one of my trolls gloated over this fact, but what profession isn't in this day and age? However, as I explain in this article: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2020/08/roboporter.html, contrary to popular belief, I think HP's will be one of the most difficult professions to robotize, not the easiest.

"We'll Take it From Here."

 

This article is very much a follow-up to this one: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2024/01/how-dare-you.html.
I'm taking quite a risk here. "Sharon" was an elderly lady when I was nineteen, so is unlikely still to be living today, but the subject of this article, nicknamed "Stacey", was only four of five years my senior so may well still be walking the earth and reading this. She would definitely recognize herself from my description. I have mentioned Stacey before on the HPWA and The Gas Spanner radio show, referring to her with epithets like "psycho-midwife" or "evil-eyed midwife". She introduced me to another acidic catchphrase that causes my flesh to crawl when I hear it to this day: "We'll take it from here." She said this to me several times, along with "your services are not required" when ordering me out of theatre in what I consider very inappropriate circumstances. She did this to humiliate me; and she also made a lot of very derogatory remarks about the Hospital Portering Service in general whenever I was around. She worked out quickly how to hit me where it hurt. Stacey was a hard-faced Canadian lady with a figure so skinny she could be anorexic. Her eyes were like those of "Centaur", see: https://hpanwo.blogspot.com/2009/01/eyes-of-centaur.html; lifeless, as if painted onto her face, the eyes of a corpse. Her face was like a skull. Her husband was a research doctor and she used to brag about it whenever I was in earshot, as if she thought she could somehow make me feel insecure that way! At least with that she revealed that she hadn't sussed me completely. The reason it is a risk to know she might be reading these words is because one should never show one's feelings of distress to people like her. Stefan Molyneux once gave advice for people being bullied in the workplace (sorry, I can't remember which programme), "stay centred". I don't understand what it feels like to want to inflict emotional pain onto other people who are innocent of any wrongdoing against me, but we don't have to understand. All we need to know is that there are individuals who do want to and we must make preparations to defend ourselves against them. The first thing we do is never feed their habit. Don't display openly the affront that you feel as a result of their abuse. In writing this article I am letting my shield down, displaying my vulnerability; I'm confessing that the emotional scars Stacey inflicted on me still hurt to this day. Sometimes you just have to do that. Stacey was one of the first generation of direct-entry midwives, doing a single three-year course with no nursing qualification. She joined the JRI staff midwives in about 1994, a few years after the incident with Sharon. She rotated to the wards every few months, which was a relief for me. But then she was promoted to a grade that gave her a permanent placement in DS. In all the time I served there, she never spoke to me at all except to give me orders or criticize me. Other porters complained about her attitude too. Unlike "Miss stuck-up little bitch nurse" who snapped at everybody indiscrimiately, Stacey only ever punched down, remaining respectful to her equals and superiors.
 
When I left DS in 1999 I was in a difficult situation because even though I had joined a new section, I was still one of only about half a dozen porters trained for the department; which meant I was inevitably expected to provide cover. What's more, the porter deployed into DS to replace me was a "sicknote Sammy", always off for one reason or another. Literally within my first week in the main hospital I was sent over there for an entire shift to cover for him. That day Stacey was on duty and she kept asking to do unnecessary and stupid jobs like moving a used surgical tool tray from one sterile supplies rack to another. She was clearly reacting to my escape and enjoying the fact that I had been recaptured and would only be allowed out on "day release". The following day I wrote a letter to the head porter with a formal request not to be deployed to DS; it was granted. The good news is I managed to deliver some very sweet revenge on Stacey because by then I had started developing dignity statements. Possibly my experiences with her inspired me, which is yet another backlash against her. I used some against her very effectively three or four times during the next few years on the rare occasions our paths crossed, see the background links below. Stacey eventually quit midwifery to do an administration job in research. Last thing I heard she had ended up in some inspection office at the Department of Health in London. I'd like to add that I've nothing against Canadian ladies. I knew another one called Shelley, and I'm using her real name this time. She was the exact opposite of Stacey, a beautiful warm and delightful young woman for whom I spent much of my first couple of years in the hospital nursing a passionate ardour.
See here for background: https://hpanwo-radio.blogspot.com/2020/08/the-gas-spanner-programme-2.html.
And: https://hpanwo-voice.blogspot.com/2019/12/the-empath-test_11.html.

"How dare you!?"

 

One of the most upsetting experiences I had in hospital portering, at least regarding my relationships with civilian staff, took place in 1989, just about a year after I started. One of the midwifery sisters on Delivery Suite, whom I'll call Sharon, was quite an old lady not far off retirement. She usually came across as a very sweet and charming person, but I found out that in some circumstances she showed a different facet of her personality. One day, on an evening shift, I politely raised a concern with her which she dismissed out of hand. This was during a non-elective caesarean section, not a dire emergency though. When she was out of the theatre I went up to her and asked her again; and she yelled at me: "How dare you speak to the sister in charge of theatre like that! How dare you!? If you say one more word I'll take it up with Mervin!... You are a porter and your job is to do as you are told!" Mervin was the name of the head porter at the time. I was struck dumb. I had not "spoken to her" like anything. I had been calm and polite. I tried to make this point and she replied: "There's nothing more to be said on the matter!" I walked off. I was a nineteen year old porter at the time who had only recently joined the DS section. This experience upset me profoundly. Even now, after over thirty years, I find it very painful to remember and describe. To this very day when I hear the phrase How dare you! it rankles badly. I don't think I'll ever completely recover from that feeling. Sharon was an elderly midwife who had been in the profession her since she was young; she was a nurse as well and had qualified long before direct entry courses, with all the feminist propaganda associated with them. Yet she had been extremely dishonest and abusive. She had used portering's lower status to put me down; and she had openly lied and threatened to tell lies to my manager about me. She did this in earshot of all the other staff. This was my introduction to how disgusting other people can be in the hospital community. I'd like to say this was my only ordeal along those lines, but it definitely was not. However, this was certainly the first and the worst. I was far more cautious after that. Sharon never apologized to me or ever referred to this conversation again; she even went back to being all cute and nice. I never trusted her again though knowing she was so twofaced. I also know very well that behaviour like that is not confined to hospitals. I recall an incident about five years before that one when a teacher at my school did something similar. I should have left DS at that point, but I foolishly hung on for another nine years. They say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and that's true; but it also wears down your soul. I've had to resist the temptation to become nihilistic and misanthropic; I'm helped by the fact that along with all the horrid old bags like her, I've served alongside many wonderful individuals too. I lost touch with Sharon when she retired and she is probably dead now. I just needed to tell the story of one of my darkest days in HPing; I've never told it before.
See here for background: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2022/02/delivery-suite.html.

Good Idea Fairies

 

I've been reading a military autobiography in order to review it for the HPANWO Voice blog, see: http://hpanwo-voice.blogspot.com/2024/01/no-easy-day.html. I was surprised at the author's descriptions of the camaraderie and culture within his special forces community because they sounded very like that within hospital portering. This is despite the huge difference between the roles and social standing of the two professions. I think this is partly because the special forces and HPing worlds are both exclusive male domains. I know the HPing world is not all men, but only about 5% of HP's are women. Feminists naturally denounce this with condescending terms like "male bonding" and "bromance". There is another similarity I noticed, possibly making this something universal within government service. What happens is, for example, the frontline staff who have to do the job every day and have developed a lot of experience and practical knowledge, work out a new method of doing something. They usually manage to get this idea cleared at the head porter/unit command level because those people share the day-to-day level with the frontliners, if they're good appointees. However, before this plan can be introduced, somebody higher up comes along and shoves their oar in. This is usually a younger member of staff who is rich in academic qualifications, but has little or no experience. In fact an NHS administrator can be promoted to the level of trust director with nothing more than their single week of student work experience with the porters. This admin officer will make some suggestion that is totally useless, extravagant or impractical and then the frontliners have to waste a lot of time and energy trying to explain why this is a bad idea to somebody who has far less understanding, but far more decision-making power. The book's author calls these people "good idea fairies". We called them "boy wonders"; although they were as often as not female, in which case we had far ruder terms for them. These overqualified underworked fools are clearly just trying to justify their own existence and, of course, their very high salary, with manufactured obstacles and therefore false solutions. They are sometimes more than just annoying though; their stupidity can kill, for example see: https://hpanwo-hpwa.blogspot.com/2014/01/man-falls-to-his-death-at-jr.html. I'm not sure what the solution is. The boy wonders and good idea fairies are a product of the fundamental bureaucracy of the state. Maybe some kind of anarchist utopia is possible where hospital porters and special forces will be free of these millstones, but that scenario lies beyond my imagination.