‘Right – I’ve covered wards, I’ve covered theatre, I’ve covered Urgent Care, I’ve covered discharges. Are we all on the same page? Yes? Excellent. What haven’t I covered? Um…’
‘Needs,’ Nick pipes up. ‘And CNAs.’
‘Oh, right. Needs. Hang on, let me check…’
‘Mrs Dougherty in Three has paperwork for Needs.’
Barb folds through a few sheets on her clipboard. ‘Mrs Dougherty in Three…yes, has paperwork saying no penicillin. Everybody got that? No penicillin for Three. And Mr Krane in Twelve has no deep reclining, no prone. Breathing problems. So don’t lie him flat for linen changes, or he’ll go all gaspy.’
‘I spotted him yesterday arvo having a ciggie out in the car park.’ Mel hooks her thumbs into her utility belt. ‘He seemed fine, then.’
‘You saw him having a ciggie? Christ, Mel, would you let me know if my respiratory patients are out smoking?’
‘Sure.’ Mel shrugs. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know.’ She makes a face, catches Nick’s eye.
Nick shakes his head at her, grinning. ‘Yeah, Mel. Who can we trust to keep an eye on things if security won’t?’ Mel gives him the finger, rolls her eyes.
Barb flaps her pages at them. ‘Behave. What else was it?’
‘CNAs,’ I say, waving my hand.
Barb beams at me. ‘Course, sorry. You’ve got obs in Three, Seven, Nine, Twelve and…um, that’s it. Three, Seven, Nine and Twelve. Come back after that, we’ll get you on breakfast, and then linen.’
I give her the thumbs-up.
‘Oh, and a word about Seven. Actually, this isn’t just for Amie, it’s for everyone. Everybody looking here? Right. Most of you know what’s going on with Seven. It’s a police case, so don’t get bothered if you see the constabulary at some point. Derrin Blunt has said he’ll pop by for some questions after breakfast –’
I wave again. ‘Actually, Dad said it’s looking more like after lunch.’
‘Oh? Right. So Sergeant Blunt will be in after lunch, might have Jared Capshaw or other officers with him. No emergency, just as you were. There was a bit of, y’know, flailing around when Harris first came in, but no aggro. Also not ambulatory, and he’s on Endone, so he’s gonna be groggy for a fair while.’
‘Is that the business out of Five Mile?’ Mel asks.
Barb nods. ‘Yes, it is, and no wild speculation, if you don’t mind. I’m sure we’ll all hear about it in the papers. One last thing – please don’t engage with Harris’s father, Mr Derwent. You’ll be in your grave before you win that one. Just call me, and I’ll come deal with him, okay? I can’t ban immediate next-of-kin from the ward as long as he’s behaving himself, even if he is visiting with a lidful. But if you see or experience him being troublesome, report it.’
‘I caught him pinching the patient on the arm,’ Nick says.
‘Did you? Great. I mean, not great, but you know, write it up. And that’s it, folks.’ Barb catches every eye around the staff room. ‘Go make the hospital work.’
She flaps her clipboard at us like she’s shooing chooks out of a pen – in a tiny rural facility like Ouyen hospital, professional manners tend to get a bit casual. We rise as a jumbled group off our chairs, while she drops down into hers. The white plastic creaks, the moulded arm-rests spreading to accommodate her bulk. Her face is flushed beneath her skullcap of sweaty brown hair. She’s not wheezing today, though. That’s a good sign.
‘Get you anything?’ I make the offer casual. ‘Need some chasing done before I go on obs?’
‘Oh, bless.’ Barb passes me her clipboard, with assorted paperwork. ‘Could you take that to the admin desk and say I’ll do handover in five? I just need a little coffee first.’
‘I’ll say ten, and I’ll bring you the coffee.’ I tuck the clipboard under my arm. ‘And I’ll text Dad, see if I can get a better idea of when he’s coming in.’
‘Amie, you’re a doll.’
I go make her a cup of instant coffee at the bench. When I bring the cup over, Barb’s face is looking better, less pink. This is the moment she gets to rest before she bundles into her car for the drive back to Patchewollock.
Nick’s already pulling on the straps of his backpack, throwing his scarf around his neck. I grab him before he heads out the door.
‘Any more excitement I missed?’
‘Not really.’ He helps me straighten my staff lanyard, which is tangled over my collar. ‘You saw it all yesterday morning. Harris did his puking in Recovery, apparently, while he was still on half-hourly obs. When I came on night duty the only thing I had to worry about was his dad. Real piece of work, that one.’
‘How come you had night duty? Did you put your name down for extra shifts?’
