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All of my life I’ve wanted to be a nurse, caring for people in their hour of need and helping people through good times and bad.

Three years ago I took the first step on my journey to fulfilling my dream and enrolled on a nursing degree course and am now in my final year of study.

I can say with my hand on my heart that this has been the most incredible journey of my life.

There have been tears, laughter, highs and lows and I have met people who I will carry in my heart forever and inspirational fellow nurses, doctors and teams who together form the backbone of the NHS we all love.

Lots of people ask me “What’s it like to be a student nurse?” It is a privilege and an honour, it is exhausting and stressful and I would not swap it for the world.

This diary is a snapshot of a pretty normal day.

05.30

I zip up my coat, wrap my scarf tightly around me and step out into the dark, freezing cold morning for my twelve and a half hour shift at a busy hospital in the Midlands. Sitting alongside the other early morning commuters on the first train of the day I wonder what today will bring.

06:30

I arrive at the hospital and pass cleaners humming in the empty corridors as they go about their vital business of maintaining the cleanliness of every inch of the place, “Good morning” an elderly porter nods at me and I return his greeting and smile. I walk on to the ward, which has 42 patients in total and make my way to the staff room.

07:00

All of the day staff are here for the handover from the night staff. The night shift nurse comes in and looks absolutely shattered. It has been a tough night. She updates us on how each individual patient has been; those who have slept and those who haven’t; those who have needed extra pain relief; those who have been distressed and anxious; those due to see the doctor today and those due to go home. This is one of the most important parts of the day – missing handover is like trying to work in a fog.

07:30

The shift begins. As a third year student I am assigned a bay of six patients to look after under the supervision of a senior nurse who is my mentor for the time I am here. The first thing I do is go and introduce myself to each patient individually, ensure they all have a glass of water and ask how they are feeling and how they slept overnight. It is a bay of ladies of mixed ages.

Two of them have dementia and the others are very poorly indeed. All are elderly and seem pleased to have me there. I assist two ladies to the bathroom and ask my fellow student (who is in second year) and a healthcare assistant to assist our ladies with washing and dressing where necessary.

08:00

I join my mentor on the medication round. It is important that each patient gets their medication on time, not least to relieve any symptoms of pain but it is a time consuming process that has to be done right with strict guidelines to follow. I notice as we move through the ward and into my bay that one of my ladies with dementia is tearful and upset. I ask my mentor if it is OK if I leave the rest of the medication round to her and go and comfort my lady, holding her hand and talking gently to her. It soothes her and she calms down but it scares me to think that in just a few months time, when I am a qualified nurse, there may not be time to do this.

08:30

Breakfast time. All of my patients have their breakfasts in front of them and most are tucking in. I quickly whizz around the six beds and check their notes are up to date. I notice one lady is struggling to eat her breakfast and ask if she would like some help. For just ten minutes, I sit beside her while helping her with her breakfast and she tells me a bit about herself and her family and we joke about the British weather. It feels we have formed a bond and is good feeling. In the back of my mind the whole time my list of things to do grows longer, but for now, they can wait.

09:00

I check the observations of all six patients, check their temperatures, blood pressures, pulses and make sure again all their charts are up to date. More slow trips to the bathroom with ladies who are slightly wobbly on their feet, one tells me she used to be a dancer, looking sadly down at her shaking legs. I tell her she has the poise and grace of a dancer still and on the walk back to her bed her head is just a little bit higher.

10.00

The doctors arrive on the ward for their daily round where they visit each patient’s bedside. I will join them when they come to my bay and my patients. I again check all of the notes – make sure charts have all been filled in correctly and check each patient to make sure they are drinking enough. One of my ladies is quiet and just gazing at the grey skies out of the window - I hadn’t even noticed it was no longer dark. I ask if she is in any pain, if there’s anything she needs and she tells me her pain is not the kind a tablet can fix. She was widowed six weeks ago after nearly 50 years of marriage. I tell her how sorry I am for her loss and that I am here if she needs anything at all. The doctors whizz into the bay and I join them. They spend five to ten minutes with each patient and two ladies are over the moon – they are going home, while two are devastated their stay will continue. The two ladies with dementia are sleeping peacefully. I make notes of everything that is said as this information will need to be handed over to the night staff.

11:00

All is well in my bay, the ladies are settled either sleeping or watching television so I make my way to the main desk and begin the discharge process for those going home. They need medication from the pharmacy, discharge papers and one needs a referral to the district nursing team for home visits from tomorrow onwards – these processes take time but eventually it is done. I hear a buzzer from my bay and go to answer it. It is the dancing lady who needs assistance to the bathroom.

11:30

On our return I notice one of the ladies is slightly breathless and the lady with dementia has woke up crying softly to herself. I wish I could split myself in two at times like this but I have to prioritise and check the breathless lady’s observation. Her blood pressure is low and her heart is racing and I go and inform the nurse in charge and manage to catch the doctor before he leaves the ward. A decision is made – she must be monitored every fifteen minutes, and any further deterioration and the doctor must be called. I return to the bay, check my poorly lady is OK and then for just two minutes this time, hold the hand and comfort the lady with dementia. Once again she is soothed but as I stand to leave, she becomes distressed once more. I ask a colleague to sit with her and go to finish my discharges.

12:00

Lunchtime. All of my ladies are eating lunch, those that need help have it and I return to the main nursing desk and finish my discharges. I could really do with the toilet myself but a buzzer from the bay rings and I answer it myself. It’s a good job my bladder is made of steel.

13:00

Visiting time. Relatives begin arriving and all of my ladies have family around their beds. I check in with my mentor, fill her in on what is happening with the poorly lady and then take a quick break. The cafeteria is a ten minute walk from the ward so I just make a quick coffee in the staff room and go to the bathroom mentally ticking off my checklist of things still to do.

14:00

Speak to anxious relatives who want to know how their Mum/Grandma/Aunt/Sister are. More trips to the bathroom; our poorly lady is worse than she was, inform my mentor and put in a call to the doctor.

15:00

Our poorly lady has deteriorated rapidly. The curtains are drawn around her bed as she is examined by the doctor and there is a hushed quiet in the bay. All of the patients’ sense something is wrong, those waiting to go home are sitting with their bags packed frustrated it is taking so long for them to be discharged and I reassure them that they will be going as soon as everything is ready.

Put in a call to pharmacy to chase medication for the ladies going home. I can pick it up in half an hour. Brilliant, I tell the ladies it won’t be long now. More trips to the bathroom. I am so hot and my head is spinning. I have not eaten properly and have had only one drink.

17:00

Teatime. I make sure everyone has something to eat and then check with my mentor, a senior nurse with 20 years experience if it is OK to take a quick break. This time I walk to the canteen, gram a warm sausage roll and eat it walking back to the ward. My feet are beginning to ache but as long as I keep moving, it should be OK.

18:00

The two ladies have gone home and there are now two empty beds on the bay. They left a card thanking us for the care they received which is a little thing that means a lot to all of us. The beds will soon be filled. I check the documentation, make sure everyone has had enough to eat and drink and that they are not in any pain and prepare for the evening handover.

19:00

I hand over to the evening staff. Our poorly lady has deteriorated further and her family have been called in. It is a sad time and I feel a lump in my throat at what they are going through. I say good night to all of the patients and let them know the night staff are coming on duty now.

19:45

I fill in my mentor on what has happened during the day in my bay and we reflect on events as we grab our coats and leave the ward. She has been with me every step of the way and we make our way out into the darkness once again.

20:00

On the train home I gaze out of the window as the exhaustion I have held at bay seeps in. My feet are absolutely throbbing and I know when I take off my shoes my ankles will be swollen and sore but tomorrow, I will be up before the sun I won’t see, ready to do it all again.