Ryk Neethling

There was no real reason for this post - just a chance to see some nice pictures of Ryk.

How observant are you

There are two identical pictures that will appear on the screen. Almost 8,000 people were tested to see if they could find the 3 differences in the two pictures and only 19 found all 3. See how observant you are. If you find all 3, you're one of very few people who are able to do this.
P.S. The text is in German and simply says look for the 3 differences CLICK

Me in the USA

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 1,469 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

A Nurses Reply

But nurses are human too and as much as they try there are still only 24 hours in the day.

What do we see, you ask, what do we see?
Yes, we are thinking when looking at thee!
We may seem to be hard when we hurry and fuss,
But there's many of you, and too few of us.
We would like far more time to sit by you and talk,
To bath you and feed you and help you to walk.
To hear of your lives and the things you have done;
Your childhood, your husband, your daughter, your son. But time is against us, there's too much to do -
Patients too many, and nurses too few.
We grieve when we see you so sad and alone,
With nobody near you, no friends of your own.
We feel all your pain, and know of your fear
That nobody cares now your end is so near.
But nurses are people with feelings as well,
And when we're together you'll often hear tell
Of the dearest old Gran in the very end bed,
And the lovely old Dad, and the things that he said,
We speak with compassion and love, and feel sad
When we think of your lives and the joy that you've had,
When the time has arrived for you to depart,
You leave us behind with an ache in our heart.
When you sleep the long sleep, no more worry or care,
There are other old people, and we must be there.
So please understand if we hurry and fuss -
There are many of you, And so few of us.

This was written by a Liverpool nurse in reply to the Crabbit Old Woman.

Crabbit Old Woman

Nursing is not always an easy task. There never seems enough time in the day. But the following poem often makes me think and realise that I shold try to make time as much as I can.

What do you see, what do you see?
Are you thinking, when you look at me-
A crabbit old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes,
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice,
I do wish you'd try.
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is loosing a stocking or shoe.
Who, unresisting or not; lets you do as you will
With bathing and feeding the long day is fill.
Is that what you're thinking,
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes,
nurse, you're looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still!
As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who loved one another-
A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet,
A bride soon at 20- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At 25 now I have young of my own
Who need me to build a secure happy home;
A woman of 30, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last;
At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn;
At 50 once more babies play around my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I've known;
I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel-
Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart,
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells,
I remember the joy, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years all too few- gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last-
So open your eyes, nurse, open and see,
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer-
See Me.

The writer of this poem was unable to speak but was occasionally seen to write. After her death her locker was emptied and this poem was found.

Locked in and lucked out.

I have not had much luck with the houses that I have lived in over my years in Nottingham or rather I have not had mush luck with the keys to the houses I have lived in. I have had to break into or call a locksmith to each and every premises at least twice. My current house is some what better as I have only had problems once. That was all to change on Friday 27th and Saturday 28th November when I would not only be locked out but also locked in !

Craig had come down to visit and we had headed off into town to meet friends at around 9.30pm. As we left the house Craig reminded me to double lock the front door – something I never normally do. I did it and thought nothing more of it. We headed home around 1.30am much the worse for wear. On reaching the front door I went fro my keys only to find they were not in my pocket. I searched frantically but to no avail, I had lost them. Craig was less than happy, it was late, we were both drunk and it was very cold. What the hell do we do now ?

Call the landlord ? It was 1.30am !!!
Call the neighbours ? It was 1.30am !!!
Call the friend we had gone out with to stay at theirs ? He had pulled !!!

There was only on thing to do, I would climb the large pointy gate that would allow me to get to the back gardens. Maybe I could break in through the back door. Jumping onto a bin with all the grace I could muster in my condition I scaled the dangerous looking gate and headed round to the back door. To my amazement (and later shock) it was unlocked ! I let myself in and rushed to the front door to let Craig in. Shit – I had double locked it and there was no spare key in the house and my housemate wouldn’t be home until Sunday evening. I rushed back to the gate.

Alan “You will have to climb over the gate, the back door is open.”
Craig “I bloody wont be climbing over the gate.”
Alan “You have to.”
Craig “I wont.”

This went on for some time and eventually he agreed and clambered over. We got into the house, had a drink and went to bed. All would be OK in the morning. I would go to one of my neighbours and ask to borrow their gate key and we could come and go as we please until my house mate returned and new keys could be cut.

My master plan had one fault – the only neighbour who was in on Saturday morning did not have a gate key ! However, she did let me out through her house so I could go to the shops. I stacked up on the essentials, fags, beer and food. Craig was slightly annoyed as I forgot wine and chocolate but I was already weighed down with five bags of shopping. We spent the whole of Saturday in the house. This is something we would normally do but as we couldn’t leave we wanted to more and more as the day went on. I think at one point cabin fever started to set in. On Sunday things finally went our way – a neighbour was in whom had a gate key. We let ourselves out, rushed into town and spent the afternoon in a pub. My housemate returned on the evening and on Monday we were able to get some keys cut.

Eventful but I really could do without that sort of thing now. I have to be more careful with my keys.