It transpires that last Friday when I was being thrown onto an A+E trolley (see previous post) I was spotted by evil witch lesser boss (see tags); who, despite the fact she no longer works in my directorate and such is no boss of mine; took it upon herself to phone nice lesser boss "out of concern" to tell her what had happened.
Nice lesser boss took it upon herself to consult the off duty, discovered I wasn't supposed to be in work on Friday: and hence became aware I was due on bank. Thus I have been causght working extra shifts when I am not supposed to be doing so because my formal sickness monitoring isn't up until the end of July.
The first I knew of this was on Monday [June 29th] when she approached me. I didn't deny it. What would be the point? I didn't lie either. I told her I did it because I needed the money [selling this house is still on the agenda] She was not impressed. She said she would have to tell ultimate boss, and HR.
I knew I didn't have a leg to stand on. I'd signed a piece of paper, saying that I wouldn't work bank until my formal monitoring period ends. And I had gone and done so irrespectively. End of. If I was going to be a total arse I would have pretended I thought it just meant in the clinical area where I work now; as said piece of paper just states that "no bank shifts will be undertaken". It doesn't specify where. But I didn't see the point in making more of a show.
But I went home and ruminated. Brewed and stewed. The thing that I was really pissed off about was not the fact that I had been caught per se; at the end of the day I knew the risk I was taking; but the manner in which I had been found out. Evil witch lesser boss was breaking my patient confidentiality by telling my new nice lesser boss.
Objectively, there were two completely separate issues going on - yes, I had worked the bank when I shouldn't of and been caught out, and would have to accept the repercussion of that. But if I felt that strongly about my confidentiality being broken I should get my union involved. It sounds simple, but it isn't. Bringing in the union over confidentiality breeching; or grievance issues or whatever it would come under; merely draws attention to me for bad reasons, yet again.
I went to speak to nice lesser boss on Tuesday [June 30th], just to make the point that I wasn't impressed with what had gone on. She wasn't impressed with me. She said she was disappointed in me, and that she didn't know what to do. I ended up totally losing it, breaking down crying in her office so much so that I was unable to speak properly and my shoulders were shaking. It was truly mortifying. She must think I'm such a numptee.
She then called me back in later. I was already crying before I opened the door. She said that she wasn't going to make it a formal disciplinary because she could see how much I had been shook up by all this, and that she was confident I wasn't going to do it again. Even though as she was saying it I knew it was good news, I was still crying.
Timely as ever; I had an appointment to see DrF on Tuesday after my shift. I paced his office; crying and ranting. He offered me olanzipine. I declined. He offered me promazine. Much as I like to be medication free (apart from the fluoxetine which past experience demonstrates does actually work on me) I knew I was wound up to the point of dangerous impulsivity and being off work due to mentalness really is the very last thing I need right now; so I accepted.
Pleasantly, it worked too, I slept so well over the weekend it was heavenly. Reached the conclusion that 'whats done is done' and I can't change it now; so have to just get over it and move on. Easier said than done I know, but I think I have managed not to dwelled too much on aforementioned events. He only gave me a weeks supply so once I had calmed down a bit I decided to dave it for emergencies, like tonight. I've had my promazine, its half four AM and I am still awake. Sigh. Sleep really does make all the difference when it comes to mood, or at least, it does for me, hence no doubt I will be a cranky old witch tomorrow. Cross my path at your peril.
Thursday [July 2nd] I had my end of formal sickness monitoring review, despite the fact I'm on it for another two weeks, in the presence of HR and I took a collegue for support. She asked me how my health had been. I replied that my ability to come to work and do my job had not been affected by my health in the last 3 months, referring obviously to my paid full time job. She replied that I hadn't answered the question!
She reiterated the bit about not working bank shifts and put it in writing to me in the post; but thats the end of it. I just have to last the 2 weeks and then I bank away to my hearts content.
Meanwhile my inability to administrate my life effectively continues. I am referring to the fact that I managed to completely run out of both: (a) fluoxitine - yes, again. This time I had none for 3 days, desperately holding on in the knowledge that I was due to see DrF on the Tuesday. The good man gave me 6 weeks supply. Tempting . . . Shush brain, quieten down. and (b) insulin - despite it being on repeat prescription. All I have to do is fax my GP or go to the practice and fill in a form and 48hrs later that familiaral green slip of paper is ready for collection, but no, I can't even manage that; which resulted in having to attend my local NHS walk in centre, where the receptionists did not look impressed when it become apparent that I had a GP, in this very city [bows head in shame]
I worry sometimes that at nearly 28, holding down a full time job, in ownership of a mortgage, I should really be a lot more organised and together than I am. Who lets medication run out, I mean really? It's a wonder I don't fall over more often