12/07/2025
I arrived at the care home just before 8:45 AM, early enough to make a good impression, but not so early that I’d be mistaken for the night staff.
Armed with nothing more than my laptop bag, a folder of handouts, and a dangerously full travel mug of coffee, I mentally prepared myself for the day ahead: delivering a full-day Medication Administration course without triggering any medical emergencies (or running out of biscuits).
By 9:00 AM, the learners had arrived. One looked like they'd been up since 5 AM. Another looked like they’d just realised this wasn’t a wine tasting. I gave them my best enthusiastic “morning face,” which they met with the glazed expressions of people not yet caffeinated enough to be discussing denaturing medication.
We kicked off with how medication travels through the body, always a fun way to bond over the phrase “first-pass metabolism.” I likened it to a theme park ride, where the liver is the grumpy security guard checking everyone's ID. They laughed. I relaxed. Game on.
We discussed how medication effectiveness can be altered, and someone shared that they once took antibiotics with a pint of milk and a Mars bar. I nodded solemnly. “We’ve all made choices.”
Then came Covert Medication, and I swear someone whispered “stealth mode” under their breath. This spiralled into an impromptu debate about whether hiding medication in a spoonful of mash counted as deception or genius. We agreed it depends on who’s cooking.
After a well-earned tea break (where the biscuits mysteriously disappeared before I even got to them), we moved on to Medication Administration Records (MARs). I warned them: “You might forget your Netflix password, but you never forget to record on the MAR.”
By lunchtime, they were just beginning to appreciate how complex ordering, auditing, and storing medication really is. One learner asked, “So basically, I’m the pharmacist, the admin assistant, and Sherlock Holmes?” Exactly.
After lunch, we hit the practicals. I brought out my dummy medication packs and mocked-up MAR charts. I channelled my inner game show host: “You’re the last line of defence! What do you check before giving this Paracetamol? Ding ding ding!”
We covered the 7 Rights of Medication, and I made them chant them like a ritual. I’m sure one learner muttered, “I’ll be dreaming about these tonight.”
Finally, we reached the bit everyone dreads: Errors. I reassured them: “Even the best of us have a ‘near miss’ story. The important thing is to own it, report it, and don’t pretend you gave two 250mg tablets when you actually gave the dog’s worming pill.”
By 3:45 PM, we were talking about disposal and denaturing, and I could feel the finish line approaching. As I wrapped up with post-administration observations, I caught someone writing “don’t give co-codamol to someone allergic to codeine” in all caps. Progress.
At 4:00 PM, I closed my laptop, thanked them for their attention (and their stories), and left them with a final gem:
“Medication isn’t just about tablets, it’s about trust, responsibility, and keeping the MAR legible. Please, for the love of legibility.”
As I zipped up my laptop bag and waved goodbye to the learners (one of whom was already asking when I’d be back with another course), I thought: another day, another dose of training delivered. No one fainted, no one set off the fire alarm, and someone even said they’d “actually learned a lot,” which, in trainer terms, is basically a standing ovation.
