Yesterday was the final shop. Shoes, pashmina (excellent bargain in Debenhams, reduced by 75% at the till), accessories, underwear and garter, the bride is ready now, but first comes the Hen Night. I have been invited, and was tempted, but 4 of the participants, not including my daughters and DIL have had me as their midwife, and I rather feel that me imbibing, and then cavorting on the dance floor, may not do much for their opinion of midwives. Shame really as I would love to dance the night away.
Work today was slightly calmer than over the weekend, thank heavens. New edicts pertaining to ‘targets’ descended upon our office today. ‘Maternity Matters’ and ‘PCT funding’ leapt of the pages, ‘statistics’ nestled in the paragraphs, ‘alert’ dangled like a noose, my pique geysered and it provided me with much to debate, heatedly, with myself, whilst driving between visits. I know that the NHS must be shown to be cost effective, to be providing high quality, safe, effective care but if I’m spending 33% of my time filling in forms about it, surely that is detracting from the care I can provide and renders me 33% less efficient?