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.

Happy Christmas 2023

 

A very merry Christmas to all my brother and sister hospital porters, serving or retired, our civilian allies and everybody else who reads the HPWA or listens to The Gas Spanner. Hope you all have a wonderful day; especially if you are on duty, giving up your time to keep everybody else safe while they enjoy their Christmas... And remember! It's just 154 days to St Theo's Day!

Telephone Dignity Statements

 

This kind of dignity statement is a variation of third party one, see background links below, but it is actually much easier because your stooge is not present. The way to carry out this dignity statement is purely opportunistic; it's not really possible to plan it beforehand. Also not all porters have the role where they are in the right position because they don't often talk on the telephone in front of civilian staff. Primarily it's the providence of the departmental porter rather than somebody from the lodge. If you happen to take a phone call or make one in a public place, for instance at a nurses station, and somebody happens to turn up who would make an appropriate dignity statement target; then if it feels right, as always, this is what you do. During the conversation on the phone, slip in words like: "Yes, but we are porters with a lot of porters' pride and dignity which nobody can take away from us. A lot of them try, but they fail and it drives them nuts..." As with the dignity statement where your stooge is present, do not look at your target. Only ever keep your gaze in the position you normally do when addressing somebody on the phone. If the call is a video communication, keep your eyes on the stooge where his or her image appears on the monitor screen. Even after the stooge has ended the call and you have not yet made a dignity statement; if you are holding the receiver and those around you don't know the call is over, you can pretend you are still on the call and deliver the dignity statement followed by: "...Anyway. Thanks for the call. Bye bye." and put down the phone. ("Stooge" is a term I use for the third party in a third party dignity statement.) After your call is over, act normally. Return to your normal duties by walking away, keeping your eyes averted from your target. If you are lucky you might catch his or her richly-deserved wince of humiliation in your peripheral vision.
See here for background: https://hpanwo-tv.blogspot.com/2013/07/physical-dignity-statements.html.
And: https://hpanwo-radio.blogspot.com/2020/08/the-gas-spanner-programme-2.html.

Wokies Hate HP's!

 

This is a topic I more normally cover on the other HPANWO sites, but in this case it is relevant to hospital portering. I've hesitated to tell this story before because I suppose I feel a little embarrassed about my own behaviour during this encounter. A few years ago, due to social circumstances I will not reveal, I found myself in a group of people in a cafe sitting opposite a woman who would today be called a "wokie", "wokeist" or "woke person". In those days that terminology didn't exist and her kinds of people were known as "SJW's- social justice warriors". It was immediately very obvious by her appearance and style of speech what her beliefs were and so I braced myself. Conversations with SJW's can only go in one direction. When the usual subject of professions came up I said: "I'm a hospital porter". (Of course, I was technically an ex-hospital porter, but I tend not to divulge that part to strangers; it requires too much explanation.) When I told her this I saw her flinch and look away, as I expected. She was already being very frosty with me because I'm a white male and had not yet made the usual mandatory virtue signalling noises, but to know that I'm a working class white male deepened her antipathy even further. There's a common myth that snobbery is something the upper classes feel for the lower classes; the lord of the manor for his butler. This is false. Firstly, there is such a thing as inverted snobbery, in which the lower classes hate those above them; but that is too big a subject to explore in detail here. However, the worst and most common kind of snobbery is experienced by the working class, but it doesn't come from the top; it comes from the middle. Leftwing middle class people are the ones who really hate the working class; or to be precise, the white working class. During this conversation I was aware that I had to watch my words very carefully so as to prevent her locating the entry point she was desperately searching for, but it didn't work. Eventually and inevitably she found the excuse to say to me: "Yes, but you're a privileged white male!" I groaned inwardly. There are so many responses to that chestnut. What she was hoping for was for me to wince and bow my head with shame as the white male guilt washed over me and memories of slavery, rape and the Holocaust passed through my self-hating soul. Alternatively I could retort and try to justify my existence, allowing her to dismiss my concerns as "white fragility!" I could also have brought up false rape allegations, diversity hiring, South African farm murders etc; which she would have discarded with the same scorn and lack of compassion. I could explain how absurd it was for her to think I had any privilege when she was manifestly much wealthier than I was; but she would say: "but I'm a 'Woman!' which means I'm a victim of sexism which you are not!". Alternatively I could remain silent or say "no comment" which is probably the best defence when dealing with people like her. Despite this, my diplomacy armour failed at that point and I chose to wind her up.
 
This was not something I planned; it just occurred to me spontaneously. "So," I began. "What do you mean by 'white male privilege'? Are you saying that my demographic enjoys a higher standard of living because our exploitation of women and non-white people?"
    "Yes!" she hissed with a glare.
    "Then why would I want it to end?"
    She gasped. "What!?"
    I repeated my question, but she was speechless. I continued: "In an equitable world, white males would have to get in line with everybody else. We would no longer experience the life of luxury we currently do. So, why would I want an equitable world? I enjoy my pampered existence."
    My interlocutor was dumbfounded. Her face was a portrait! Just like "Miss Stuck Up Little Bitch Nurse" when I strike back at her with a well delivered Dignity Statement. She was not used to this response. Of course wokies always accuse white men of secretly wanting white male privilege to continue for the reasons I stated, no matter how much they protest; but they are accustomed only to dealing with white males who "try to deny it!" What she couldn't cope with was a white male who openly admits it and is unapologetic.
    I can't quite remember the next few exchanges verbatim, but it was along the lines of her saying that white male privilege was immoral and it made other people suffer, and me replying with comments supporting moral nihilism and social Darwinism. Finally she stood up and stormed off with the words: "You are truly evil scum!"
    I chuckled and yelled after her: "Yeah, winners tend to be!"
    I felt ashamed of myself. Those who know me will realize straight away that I didn't actually mean what I said to her, for example see: https://hpanwo-tv.blogspot.com/2020/11/nice-guys-reply-to-stefan-molyneux.html. The thing is, I find people like her exhausting and infuriating. I avoid their company whenever possible, which luckily is almost all the time in my personal social circles. I know for a fact that had I tried to be honest and reasonable with her she would not have returned my good faith, a bit like this other example: https://hpanwo-voice.blogspot.com/2023/07/payback.html. Get used to the fact that I'm not a saint and I have my limits.
See here for more background: http://hpanwo.blogspot.com/2021/08/political-correctness-portal.html.