I walk onto C ward for the morning round. Something is different. At first I cannot put my finger on it. Then I realise. “Sister,” I ask, “what has happened to the floor beds?” Over the last few weeks the ward beds have been full and the nurses have been laying spare mattresses on the floor wherever a gap can be found. There have been 5 or 6 most days – yesterday there were at least that. Neither is the requisite demented elderly lady crawling along the floor. Everything looks so clean.
“Ah. Today is the Department of Health inspection. Matron came round and told us we had to remove them.” I cannot see where the patients might have got to – although come to think of it there were a few people sat outside on the grass as I walked in today. Sure enough later in the morning a troupe of 5 uniformed people stride in escorted by matron and make important looking ticks on important looking forms.
The next day I look in on the ward – the floor beds are back. As is the demented lady. It is almost a relief.
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