There’s allways that one family. That one family that come stomping through the ward like gods that think they are the only people who matter.
That one family who complain about everything even though their relative has had the best care out of them all.
That one family who think everything should be dropped just for them.
That one family who complains that they do not get treated the same as the others.
That one family who makes you feel like your something that they have stepped in and belittles you. Who laugh at you on the phone because you asked them to call back in half an hour because the nurse is busy doing important medications.
Medications that if not given, could be life threatening.
That one family who allways comes in with their own diagnosis, and different things a wrong each day.
That family who are asking every day, twice a day, three times and more if their father has had a shower because they don’t believe the first person who answers.
That one family who beckons and thinks you are their slave.
That one family who make you feel demoralised, unconfident and unequal.
That one family who demands to know why their father didn’t eat his fish pie because he wanted beef stew that they wouldn’t let him have.
That one family who brings your whole day to a halt and makes a good day, bad.
That one family who demands that we force their mother to eat their dinner and make them take their medication, and calls it “abuse” when we say we are not allowed to do that.
Nothing is good enough. Their relative is getting the best care, whilst others are forgotten.