Chapter 33
Phoebe isn’t quite sure how she has makes it through the rest of the day. After the phone call from her mum, she just wants to jump on her motorbike and ride to Cornwall. But she has a job to do. She stays with Ben until he is calmer, updating his notes to let the rest of the team know to be on high alert. For the rest of the day, she listens to her patients and delivers their medication and types up her notes, trying to keep her mind on her work while sneaking glances at her phone to check for updates from her mum. She can’t stop picturing her grandmother lying unconscious on the bathroom floor.
Normally, it’s hard enough to maintain a smile in the face of tough moments with her patients. To keep her voice calm and steady as she bears witness to the challenges in their lives and, often, the trauma in their past. But this afternoon the stories of her patients and the sense of how much they need from her felt overwhelmingly heavy. It’s too much.
And now she is tumbling into Mel’s office at the clinic, her bag hanging from her shoulder and her red hair tangled from the motorbike ride, feeling as though she has been fed through a pulveriser; she just wants to crumple into a messy heap on the floor.
‘Phoebe, it’s good to see you,’ says Mel from behind her desk stacked with paperwork, a pinboard with medical posters providing a backdrop. ‘Come in and sit down.’
Phoebe tries her best to keep her expression neutral. This is the first meeting they’ve had in a long time and she needs it to go well. If her boss thinks she’s having some sort of breakdown, she’s hardly likely to consider her for the promotion that Phoebe so desperately needs now that Max is gone and she’s got the entire rent and bills to pay by herself. She’s always prided herself on staying strong and holding it together at work. It’s a requirement of the job – being resilient and pushing your own problems to the side to make space for the people who need you. The people you are paid to look after.
‘How are things going, Phoebe?’
As soon as Mel asks the question, Phoebe bursts into tears.
‘I-I’m s-sorry,’ she says, wiping furiously at her face with her sleeve. But however hard she wipes her face, the tears keep on falling.
‘You don’t have to apologise, Phoebe,’ Mel says, pushing a box of tissues across the table towards her. Phoebe takes one gratefully, blowing her nose loudly.
‘This is so unprofessional. I’m so sorry.’
‘Stop saying sorry!’ Mel barks.
‘But this is so bloody embarrassing. I’m stronger than this! I never cry at work!’
Another sob courses through her, making her shoulders shake.
‘You’re not a robot, Phoebe,’ says Mel. ‘You’re only human. And I would say that being “only human” is one of your great strengths in your job. We’re not so different from our patients, really, and that’s important to remember.’
Mel passes her another tissue but looks completely unfazed. At least that’s one good thing about having your breakdown in front of a mental health nurse, Phoebe supposes.
Once she has just about managed to pull it together, Mel leans forward slightly in her chair. ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on?’
And because there doesn’t seem any other option but to tell the truth now that she has snot and tears dripping down her face, Phoebe tells Mel everything. About the break-up with Max and her feelings of failure about yet another relationship down the drain, plus the pressure it has put on her financially. She talks about Ben and Camilla, Maude and Tara and her worries for them and all her other patients too. How those worries have grown heavier and heavier recently, piling on top of her until she feels crushed at the bottom of the heap. She even tells her about the drinking, how it started as a way to unwind after a long day but has gradually become more than that. It used to be her way of dealing with her problems, but now it feels as though it’s started to create its own problems. She keeps wondering if things with Luca would have gone differently last night if she’d stopped at the one glass of wine. Every time she thinks about the way he stepped backwards, her whole body cringes.
And then she tells Mel about her grandmother.
‘I haven’t seen her in too long,’ she explains. ‘I’ve been a completely shit granddaughter. What if I never get to see her again?’
The tears have at least stopped by now, leaving her face smudged with streaks of make-up.
‘Oh, Phoebe. I wish you had said something sooner. You, of all people, should know that problems only get worse if you let them pile up without talking about them.’
‘I know. Bit of a bloody hypocrite, aren’t I?’
‘We can often be the worst at taking our own advice. When we do jobs like we do, it can be easy to forget about looking after ourselves.’
‘I don’t think I’ve been very good at doing that.’ If she’s honest with herself, she isn’t sure she’s ever made space for it. She’s known since she was young that this was the job she wanted to do and has always been motivated by a fierce drive. But in the midst of it all, she’s lost her way. She’s lost herself.
‘You’re definitely not the first person to sit down in that chair and tell me something like this. Why do you think I keep a box of tissues on my desk?’
They share a laugh.
‘I’ve been in your same position in the past too. It’s not easy, looking after ourselves. But it’s so important. It’s the most important thing, in fact. So I want you to take next week off work. I’ll sort out cover. Go and be with your family. Take some time. And when you get back, we’ll talk about next steps, OK?’
Phoebe can’t remember the last time she took a whole week off work. But she’s too exhausted to refuse. ‘OK. Thank you.’
‘You’re an excellent nurse, Phoebe. You are dedicated to your patients and have a knack for not just listening to them but really hearing them. You’ve always been incredibly organised and diligent too, which I’ve always admired but never expected because our jobs are so hectic. You can take a day or two to get your notes up to date and you don’t have to reply to emails in the middle of the night – in fact, I’d really rather you didn’t.’
‘I just really care about this job. Even when it’s really fucking hard, I do love what I do.’
‘I know you do. And you are great at your job. But I think you need to look at the other areas in your life too.’
As Mel passes her a final tissue, it hits Phoebe that her boss might just be right.