Stop and smell the spring.

I can't believe how glorious the weather has been this month, I keep expecting the misty mornings to remain and progress into even foggier and damp days, yet the sun has burned it away and left clear and cloudless skies for us to enjoy. As is so much a part of our British psyche, we can't help talking about it and exclaiming at the wondrousness of the weather and how we're revelling in it. On the days when I've been in London the progression of spring is noticeably further advanced; particularly with the flowers and trees, compared to when I'm in Lincolnshire. I love that, it's almost as it I have an extended season, and spring isn't even my favourite month. I have to admit to having great affection for it nevertheless, as its arrival heralds the closure of the winter season and the anticipation of what to me, are the adored summer months. What I can too easily believe is the negativity I've been hearing, along with and comments that "it won't last" or "we're bound to have more snow" and "you can still get frosts into May?" Really, you don't say?! Admittedly it's all true in this country and yet is it really that difficult to be positive and to stop and smell the spring and to enjoy it however fleeting? The warmth we're experiencing now is unlikely to last until the summer and we'll all too soon find ourselves in the middle of the dire weather the doomsayers are predicting. It strikes me that this is a simple metaphor for how many of us find ourselves living our lives today. We are constantly inundated and bombarded with multiple sources of information visually, emotionally and mentally, and we speed through without taking in any of it, in a meaningful way. It reminds me of the visual picture books from my childhood where a story was depicted in a variety of images on separate pages and flicking through rapidly would tell the story. As a child I used to like to stop midway suddenly and look in closer detail at the page in front of me and imagine what was going to happen next in the story. I'm not really that different now, although I have to make a more of a conscious effort to stop the picture and really look at the detail. So this spring I'm going to really stop, get outside and enjoy it. My request is that you do the same.

A few musings on Twitter

I’ve found in recent months that the more I use Twitter the more I see patterns emerging in the way and the reasons not only how I use it, but the ways other people conduct themselves as well. And as someone that is mostly fascinated, but occasionally horrified by human nature it is a never ending source of interest. So these are a few of my musings about the main things that I’ve seen.

I think like most people I joined Twitter to see what all the fuss was about and then pretty much stalled as we all do, when after following a few of the celebrities you’ve heard are on twitter or a few news reports, you fail to interact with anyone and give it up as a bad job. Months ago “The 46 Stages of Twitter” was posted and as it sums up my experience so accurately, I’ve included it here. I’m not sure whether the link will work so I’ll include the piece in full at the end. As a disclaimer I would also add that this has not been written by me and I’ve provided the source of the post in order to credit the author.

http://thechrisvossshow.com/the-46-stages-of-twitter/

Twitter then came into its own for me as it so often does, when I discovered that something I was interested and followed and watched obsessively where I could, was shared by other people. And for those of you that know me, you’re not going to be surprised when I say that this was tennis, specifically Wimbledon. In 2010 for the first time in many years I didn’t attend the tournament, not only because I didn’t get tickets in the ballot, but also because the renovations underway at the grounds meant that both Courts 3 and 4 would not be ready for the 2010 championships, thereby limiting the number of ground passes available for those queuing, i.e. me. The photograph here depicts the start of the renovations after the 2009 tournament; the new number 2 Court which opened in 2009 is in the distance.




So I booked the 2 weeks off as usual but spent the majority of the time on the sofa with both the TV and the pc to ensure I didn’t miss anything. Friends, family and work colleagues thought I was mad but I soon realised that I wasn’t alone and despite not going, thanks to Twitter the 2010 Wimbledon became much more fun and interesting than it had ever been.

Despite this new awareness, I found that it wasn’t until I changed my phone and started using the Twitter app on a daily basis, that I really started to get into Twitter and now quite frankly I’m not sure that I could ever live without it. I admit that tennis is still one of my main obsessions and at least half of the people I follow are tennis fans who are equally if not more passionate and enthusiastic and usually loads more knowledgeable than I am, so I find it a never-ending source of enjoyment. However I’m also interested in a vast array of other things, am endlessly curious and interested in other people and over time I’ve built a list of people to follow to reflect that, so my day-to-day timeline is always absorbing.

One of the other things I’ve noticed that I’m not sure I’m particularly comfortable with is the addiction some people have to amassing a huge number of followers. In fact people who are not on twitter are obsessed with this as well and although I know approximately on any given day how many followers I have, it’s the days when I don’t have many @mentions, that I find I’m slightly disappointed but this is usually because I’ve had limited time or have tweeted sporadically. I forget to routinely check my number of followers; on the app I use on my phone and this information is not on the main page so unless I go into my profile I don’t see it, unlike the website which contains the number on the home page. And I only use the website when I want to tidy up my Favourites which brings me onto my next musing.

I use Favourites primarily as a bookmark to save tweets to view when I have more time, for example links to news articles, blogs, pictures of photos; all which are easier to read on the pc rather than the phone. I also save those tweets of interest that I may want to refer to later or point someone else in the direction of, as well as those nuggets of wisdom that have interested or amused me. It’s not private nor do I have any secrets and it is intriguing to learn that now there are software programmes notifying the author of the tweet when it has been favourited. However a recent random comment made me look at someone else’s favourite entries and I have to admit that I felt slightly intrusive when I did this, as if I was rummaging though their private papers. I’m not sure if this is weird, or if I’m alone in feeling this way; for those tweeters that want to keep their lives private, their accounts are protected so all information is for public viewing anyway.

So moving onto followers, I have to say that there are some habits I really just don’t get and which actually on occasion frustrate me. These tend to fall into two categories: those that engage with you, have conversations with you but never, never follow you and then there are those who will follow you, after you have followed them, but no matter how many times you respond to their tweets and questions, they never answer you back. So why follow in the first place if you prefer to talk to a small group of people and don’t want to widen your circle of interest and interaction? It baffles me. I realise that there are many people who over time I’ve had conversations with but haven’t spoken to for ages for whatever reason, but I know that if I see them in my timeline I can say hello and I’ll enjoy talking to them again.
My grandfather used to say, “theres nowt as queer as folk lass” and I realise he was probably right.

So last topic of this list of musings has to be the Twitter crush and this is one of my favourite aspects of Twitter. I think I have observed over the last few months at least six of these between people who I don’t think have met or knew each other before joining Twitter and I find it somewhat endearing, particularly when I both admire and follow those involved. And if you’re wondering, yes I have to admit to having a couple of Twitter crushes, completely unrequited I hasten to add and I would never want more, but I experience a little thrill whenever I see them in my timeline or they respond to one of my tweets and I love everything they write.

So there you go, Twitter for me has been a hugely entertaining and amusing pastime and I hope it will continue.

The 46 stages of Twitter (Originally published by shanenickerson.com)
1. Hear the word Twitter. Scoff.
2. Hear it again from someone else. Scoff again.
3. Hear about famous celebrity who is apparently “On Twitter.” Scoff, but make mental note to check it out.
4. Log into Facebook to comfort self.
5. Sign up for Twitter.
6. Give up because it seems dumb.
7. Loudly criticize others on Twitter.
8. Follow @johncmayer, @aplusk, @rainnwilson, @wilw, @mrskutcher, @oprah, and one other person you actually know.
9. Post tweet that is a variant of: “Trying out this Twitter thing.”
10. Attempt to dig a little deeper into Twitter.
11. Notice rampant usage of words: “Tweet,” “Twitter,” “Twitterverse,” “Tweetie,” “Tweetdeck,” and something called “RT.”
12. Scoff again, this time in confusion.
13. Tell friends you “tried that Twitter thing, but didn’t get it and it’s stupid anyway.”
14. Log into Facebook because that site at least makes sense.
15. Read story about Twitter somewhere.
16. Log back into Twitter.
17. Try to avoid saying Tweet, Twitter, Twitterverse, Tweetie, Tweetdeck, and ReTweet.
18. Respond to @rainnwilson.
19. Curse self for fanning out.
20. Log off for 4 months.
21. Come back, just to see.
22. Post something relatively funny.
23. Get RT’d.
24. Discover that RT means ReTweet.
25. Make it your life mission to get RT’d.
26. Install Twitter app on your phone.
27. No longer ashamed to say “I’ve gotta Twitter that.”
28. Attend events with the sole intention of “Tweeting” them.
29. Pray to get RT’d.
30. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh.
31. Close computer.
32. Open computer. Refresh. Refresh. Refresh.
33. Think in 140 character sentences.
34. Compulsively check phone all day every day.
35. Tweet that you compulsively check phone all day every day.
36. Alienate actual people in your life in an attempt to impress ones you don’t know.
37. Lose weight because you forget to eat.
38. Place phone by bed so you can check first thing in the morning.
39. Defend Twitter to the death from detractors.
40. Hear self, and vaguely recognize that you have become “That Guy.”
41. Feel like, and start to behave like River Tam.
42. Vow to quit Twitter to preserve sanity.
43. Read this and change mind.
44. Think to self, “I should twitter that.”
45. Recognize irony.
46. Twitter it.

What it means to be a tennis fan. Part 1

So following on from the previous blog relating to nursing, I also want to mention a couple of thoughts about what it means to be a tennis fan. To be honest this isn’t something I thought I’d ever write about but I read a comment in an article in the Evening Standard last Friday which made me a little cross to say the least. It was about the win Andy Murray had in his second round match with Radek Stepanek in the Monte Carlo Masters and the credit Andy gave to the boxer David Haye for helping him with his “self belief and aggressive winning mentality”. Fair enough, nothing wrong with that and a credit to them both. There’s nothing worse or more likely to make you feel uncomfortable as a tennis fan than watching a player struggle with a defeatist mental attitude.
The aspect of the article that really pissed me off and which tennis fans the world over will empathise with was the introductory comment made by the journalist; “The genteel strawberries and cream world of tennis may appear to have little in common with the blood and guts of boxing”.
I actually need to take a minute before I go on as this has incensed me so much. It really gets my goat that tennis is referred to in such a way; another particular favourite is that it’s an ‘old man’s game’. Yeah right, only you don’t see any old men playing competitive tennis though do you? They wouldn’t even be able to beat the women if they were. I admit to deliberately missing the point there but in my experience the majority of spectators don’t fall into the ‘old men’ category either.
Ok back to the comment in the article. One of the first things I ever learned about tennis is that it’s a mental game, and I don’t mean mental as in mad, although that could be argued, just not now; but that it’s down to your mental determination and self belief. I’ve been watching tennis since I was 11 and the first player I totally fell in love with was Bjorn Borg when he won the Wimbledon final in 1980. Borg was my first crush I think and I read articles and devoured books about him, his game and what made him great. Actually one of the best insights was in John McEnroe’s autobiography when he not only discussed their professional rivalry but also their friendship and how much he missed Borg from the tour when he retired.
The element of Borg’s game which received the most commentary and which stayed with me, apart from his physical physique, was his mental toughness, his cool. The 4th set tie break in the 1980 final is legendary; let’s face it whenever there’s rain during the Wimbledon fortnight you can guarantee the BBC will dust it off and run it. It’s not a problem, it’s a good match and appeals to all fans, but what’s clear about that match and all good matches is the way the big points are played, that’s where the psychological tests are. Not only the 4th set tie breaks but for example, a score of 15:40 in the 7th game of a set is gonna test your mental toughness. Tennis matches are lost and won on a handful of key points and that’s what makes it so compelling. Well that and the skill of a well executed and well placed volley or lob, positioning in defence or a sweet backhand down the line, to name but a few.
So it’s understandable that Murray would be likely to benefit from Hayes in the way the article describes and in the match against Stepanek you could see it starting to pay off. But to say that tennis is so far removed from boxing is ludicrous. In addition to the mental ability, players need be extremely physically fit, light on their feet, have stamina and endurance, be agile, able to change direction and react quickly, able to outthink their opponent, have excellent defence.....sounds like boxing to me.

What it means to be a nurse

There are a couple of topics that have raised commentary this week in the media both of which have featured predominantly in my life and which I feel strongly enough about to want to add my own thoughts and perspectives. The first topic relates to what it means to be a nurse and the second what it means to be a tennis fan which I’ll post in a day or so.
The subject of nurses has arisen this week chiefly due to the Health Ministers meeting with several nurses which has added to the understandably heated debate around the NHS and the nursing profession, both of which are meaty enough themes to require their own blog post at a later date.
The more personal question for me around what it means to be a nurse was a raised during a conversation on Twitter with someone who is studying for a degree in Adult Nursing. My response was one of sympathy in relation to requirements of a dissertation as well as the subject matter and the phrase I used was “as a former nurse”. I used this instinctively / subconsciously but it’s not the first time I have distanced myself from the profession. It’s not as if I don’t value the effort, time and commitment I put in to achieve the qualification, particularly as I discovered I was pregnant in the last year of training and had to return after maternity leave to complete the exams and registration required to qualify. Nurse education and training has changed over the years and although a diploma and degree qualification is attainable now as part of the training it wasn’t then and I’ve since studied further to achieve both of these; indicating that at one time I was happy in the profession I was practising in.
So what changed? When I reflected on this I realised that it’s because I feel awkward. And I realise that sounds naff but there are a few reasons for this feeling and I’ll attempt to explain.
The first one is due to professional accountability. Growing up my grandfather instilled in me that if you do something you do it well, you see it through, and you take responsibility for your actions. Excellent lessons I’ve always thought but it saddens me that nursing today finds it difficult to maintain these objectives and for numerous reasons. Not least the lack of staff and endless processes within the current NHS system that creates inefficiencies of time and cost. Suffice to say that it is hard for the profession which taught me so much is no longer able to consistently meet the basic and holistic requirements of care. I heard this week that a newly qualified nurse was sacked due to a variety of professional transgressions against the professional nursing code of conduct. One of which was despite monitoring heart rate, blood pressure etc she was unable to identify that the patient was bleeding and therefore did not take the necessary action needed nor escalate the situation. These are basic nursing skills, not only the mechanics of recording but recognising the significance of what you’re seeing. Lessons that used to be learned as a student nurse. The patient later went to theatre for surgery and was fine.
The second reason is purely selfish and its due to the fact that whenever people find out I’m a nurse and even though I’m still registered I no longer practising clinically, the expectation is that I’ll be able to diagnose a variety of mysterious ailments or provide a prognosis on a relative who has cancer or receiving palliative care; the area in which I worked. If these questions occur in a social setting it is not only frustrating as I want to yell, “please go see your GP if its bothering you that much” or embarrassed as then everyone else present usually wants to hear what I have to say. Which is usually a polite version of “go and see your GP”
The final reason is due to the public’s perception of nurses, which is twofold. Either they are regarded as Angels or "up for it" girls in the style of ‘Carry on Nurse’ or fancy dress costumes. The latter is usually pretty light hearted fun but the former can grate enormously. None of us are angels. Like most professional groups, nursing consist of a small percentage of staff who are excellent, are able to multitask, prioritise an endless list at speed, flexibly re prioritise when something urgent is needed, are organised, can deal with medics who think they know everything, excellent or know less than them, are gentle and have endless patience. The main percentage of nursing staff are good solid professional s who are there to do a good job and hopefully go home on time at the end of the day. The remainder and this is also a small percentage are evil hags, bags and bitches and you wouldn’t want to give them house room if you were dying; this includes both males and females.
I doesn’t matter where you work, you will meet people who fall either in or across all these categories and hopefully those who are being a bitch are venting on other staff and not the patients. As I remember they’re usually dumping their venom on the student nurses. Sometimes I wonder how I ever got through my nurse training. Some of the old nursing sisters who were close to retiring when I started, I think had been around since the Boer War.
Don’t get me wrong, for many years I enjoyed what I did and I met and learnt how to deal with a variety characters and situations. Let’s face it there aren’t many jobs where within 15 minutes of meeting someone you have them removing their clothes, donning an unattractive backless gown and answering lots of personal and detailed questions. And don’t forget my grandfather’s ethos, I was proud to do an excellent job and be the best nurse I could be.
But out of the workplace the perceived opinions of my role were difficult to contend with and when I started managing staff and then programmes rather than patients it was with sigh of relief that I no longer needed embark on lengthy explanations about what I did. And if and when I do admit to being a nurse I’m always asked it I miss it. Honestly like most jobs I miss the good parts and for the most its a challenging and rewarding job and I miss the people. I can honestly say I don’t miss dealing with bodily fluids on a daily, and sometimes hourly basis.
Well its difficult to say if I’ve really answered what I set out to which is what it means to be a nurse, but for those of you who aren’t in the nursing profession I hope you’ve found it interesting.

Does sending sexy texts really constitute cheating?

Our first instinct when these ethical / moral dilemmas are raised, either in our personal life with family or friends or when we are made aware of it through the media, is to ask, " what would I have done" or "what would I do" in this situation and there are are several points which immediately spring to mind.
Firstly, how often, who with and the degree of "sexiness". Also how long has it been going on. If you are the person who has been cheated on as it were, did you find out or were you told by your partner. Personally I think it raises issues of trust either way the discovery is made. If you are in a committed sexual relationship with your partner then naturally you'd consider texts of a personal and intimate nature to be shared with you and you alone and if another person was communicating with your partner in this way, it necessarily makes you question the level of trust and honesty you have in your relationship. It will also make you question the perceptions you both have of your relationship and whether this is considered acceptable.
Secondly, if you're the one sending / receiving the texts, do you consider it appropriate, do you share them with your partner and if not how would you feel if your partner happened to discover them?
The third point is to do with flirting. How many of us flirt on a daily basis? either with people we meet in public situations, the barrista at our regular coffee shop for example, work colleagues etc. Would we flirt if our partner was able to witness our comments and more importantly, our body language? Or do we flirt openly because we are sending specific messages with our body language, either openly or more reserved. If we are flirting in situations with strangers, on a train for example, is it because we'll never see that person again and it makes us feel attractive? I have a work colleague who regularly regales me with stories of men she's encountered in passing when working away and how smart, pretty, intelligent they apparently found her, I'm not sure how much of it is true or embellished due to her own insecurities or how much of it she wishes were true as I know she is not particularly happily married. To be fair, I haven't asked and if it makes her feel good then I certainly won't judge; we all want to feel beautiful, both inside and out.
And that probably is what it all comes down to, no matter what our situation is at home, happy, unhappy, indifferent, we all enjoy those sensations,feelings, that frission when someone really looks at us and takes the time to strike up a conversation and are interested enough to prolong it for however long the situation arises.