Tag Archives: professionals

Get one third extra staff – at no extra cost

One third more staff
Claw back time lost to being unwell at work, and every team member can give you a third of themselves extra

Extra staff. How to afford them? Where to put them? What will the shareholders say?

Except these are no ordinary extra staff.

The extra you know

They’re experienced and known to you. Trusted, with proven track records. Valued performers with first-hand knowledge of your business and its customers.

Already in place and up to speed.

Extra special, like they were meant for the role. Hand-picked by you, which of course they are.

Because, yes – they ARE your special team. Only there’s one third more of them.

One third more time, more effort, more expertise, more guiding hands.

Larger than life and already giving you extra.

With never a murmur about overtime or extra salary.

Doing what they’ve always done, only one third more of it.

Smiling about it too. Happy to be there and going for it. Extra revved up, extra enthusiastic, extra prepared to take on the world and win.

And all achievable right now, without extra cost.

You just have to give the nod. Sign off on the nixing the hurdle that’s holding them back – the ever-present obstacle that stops them doing their job fully.

Unwell at work holds them back

Latch onto that thought – fully.

Because however good they are, that’s not what any staff are delivering at the moment.

Chances are, if your business is like most others, they’re only capable of nine months out of every twelve. That’s what you get in real terms – and that’s what you’re paying for.

The rest of the time, however dedicated and committed they might be, they’re just not up to it.

Illness holds them back, sapping their strength and concentration. Causing their work to slip below par – so it takes longer, or has to be done again.

Or worse, goes pear-shaped and winds up being a liability.

Not something you expect from a professional.

But that’s what happens when they insist on coming to work with a stinker of a cold, their dog of twelve wonderful years just died – and their other half is also at work, nursing a sprained wrist and bruised coccyx from slipping and falling on ice.

The cost of unwellness

You can see it happening, can’t you? And where do you think their poor head is, trying to cope with that AND push your sales over-target for the third month running?

Unwell at work, right?

Partly caused by germs, partly caused by grief, partly caused by worry.

Oh yes, and while you think about it, those germs are exploding round the office with every hacking cough and 20-megaton sneeze.

So it’s not just one professional, limping along under par – pretty soon it will be the rest of them. The whole office, off-colour at once. All at their desks and trying – but with the best will in the world, nowhere close to making it.

That’s what held back is – being unwell at work. Not bad enough to be home in bed, at least that’s contained and planned for.

No, this is worse. Sometimes people forcing themselves to keep going. Fear of looking like wimps, anxious not to overload colleagues, super gung-ho to get results, or just so depressed that coming to work is some kind of therapy.

OK, so give the nod.

Because people are like that 57.5 days a year, according to research. Almost three working months of effort and concentration. Lost to stomach cramps, headache, colds, flu, back pain, muscle spasm, vomiting, diarrhoea, you name it.

Pay for twelve months, get nine

You pay for twelve months at full power. You get nine months – with the rest in unpredictable blips and snatches.

And your staff are miserable with it, knowing they’re under-performing.

Prevent them being unwell and they’ll gladly give the three months you’re not getting. One third extra on the nine-month years you’ve been used to – no wonder productivity is a challenge!

So eliminate the germs that cause such mayhem. Germs in the workplace that everybody breathes and touches in the shared existence of professionals working closely together.

Take away the grief of these symptoms, and your people become like new beings. Plus you show you’re thinking of them and it makes them feel good. Get the place sterilised and everybody is razzling. Full marks for motivation.

Which can stretch a lot further if you’ve a mind to. By giving some of that extra time you’ve won back again.

Time, the healer

You see, germs are a big chunk of being unwell at work, but not all of it. There’s still the head stuff of emotion and circling thoughts. Coping with anguish and worries – often nothing to do with work, though there’s plenty of that too. Relationship issues and confidence crises, even among the toughest.

A lot of these you can fix with time – because you’ve got it. Three working months per team member before you start losing on where you are at the moment. Plenty of time to take off and sort out worries – see the bank manger, get the parcel from Argos, check the bullying at school,  see to the ailing budgerigar, or just stay quiet and grieve.

Time too, to step in and find out about work issues. They might be small on the surface, but they’re monumental to the person feeling them. And nothing reassures more than the boss being involved enough to sort things out. If the Big Guy’s got time for it, this can only be the right place to work.

Which leaves muscle pain and long-lasting conditions. But even here, time has therapy. Things take longer with physical pain, but patience takes away the feeling of being crowded for results. Things can be taken easy and you’ve got time to give away. 57.5 days per staff member to be exact.

Extra productivity

So what have you got?

No more germs, no more illnesses to catch. No more unwell at work – or at least vastly reduced. Extra professional staff hours from a team you already know and trust – out of the blue, at no extra cost in salaries, overtime, holidays or anything.

Just the odd £30 a day to keep the germs away, and you’re laughing.

Which brings us to your next problem.

What are you going to do with all that extra productivity?

About this blog

Back Off, Bacteria! is the blog of Hyper Hygiene Ltd, supplier of what we’re convinced is the most effective health protection system in the world. A fully mobile, all-automatic Hypersteriliser machine mists up workplaces with ionised hydrogen peroxide, spreading everywhere and eliminating all bacteria, viruses and fungi.

Hypersteriliser units are supplied to businesses and institutions across the UK, notably the haematology and other critical units at Salford Royal Hospital, Greater Manchester; Doncaster & Bassetlaw Hospital; South Warwickshire Hospital; Coventry & Warwickshire Hospital; and Queen Victoria Hospital, East Grinstead.

The Halo Hypersteriliser system achieves 6-log Sterility Assurance Level – 99.9999% of germs destroyed. It is the only EPA-registered dry mist fogging system – EPA No 84526-6. It is also EU Biocide Article 95 Compliant.

Reference links checked and working at time of posting.  However, some URLs may be taken down or re-sited later. If your link goes nowhere or you get an Error 404 message, please accept our apologies.

Atishoo, atishoo, is the NHS falling down?

Girl serving hamburger
Even McDonalds can’t serve you as fast as this

It’s happening all over again.

Another scandal. Whistleblowers. People dying in thousands. Claims of negligence, malpractice and mismanagement.

Are we all more at risk than we know?


Sheer scale

Because the NHS is no ordinary organisation.

Behind its doors, 1.3 million professionals handle over 1 million patients every 36 hours. (Tweet this)

On that kind of scale, problems and hiccups are inevitable.

Just think of the pressure. The clock is ticking, people need attention. Staff take short cuts, managers go for easy options, safety procedures get overlooked.

So now there’s another hoo-hah about failures, and patients “too scared” to complain.

Regrettable, yes. Unforgivable, certainly. In some cases, possibly criminal.

Except that for an organisation the size of the NHS, complaints are inevitable and actually essential.

Reality check

Take everybody’s pet wail and squawk  – A&E.

In just one year, it handles 22 million patients and up – most of them inside the official 4 hour waiting period.

That’s more than 2,500 an hour – or around 40 a minute – 365 days a year, 24/7.

How many fast food outlets can equal that?

Try ordering a double burger and chips at McDonalds and expecting them in 60 seconds – at the same time as 40 other seriously hungry dudes are yelling for theirs.

And McDonalds get complaints too. Every big organisation does.

They actually need them.

Complaints are necessary

And as a customer, it’s kinda like your duty to complain.

Because at that kind of turnover, how else can anyone know that something is wrong?

Everything is happening too fast for even eagle-eyed perfectionists to notice, so it’s up to each of us to press the buzzer when things glitch.

So if there’s moaning and yelling going on about the NHS, be thankful.

Something is getting attention and something will be done about it.

Sure, it’s scary that it involves doctors and hospitals and people’s lives.

At least it’s out in the open and not hushed up any more.

And how many big manufacturers have not tried to get away with that?

Nowadays even BMW and Toyota are not afraid to issue a total recall.

If there is a problem, it needs to be fixed.

Being open and honest about it restores confidence.

And not everything in the NHS is a train-smash like Mid Staffs.


Going in to hospital for an op?

In 2014, compared to Australia, Canada, France, Germany, Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland and USA, the NHS was rated as best by the Commonwealth Fund for efficiency, effective care, safe care, coordinated care, patient-centred care and cost-related problems.

Looks like you’re safe enough.

But make sure you shout like hell if you’re not.

You owe it to yourself.

Think nobody cares? How about ambulance crews?

Lizzy Pickup
Paramedic Lizzy Pickup pulled an unconscious mum from a blazing house (with thanks to Gazette Live)

Time to review your belief in saints.

There’s two in your rear-view mirror, coming up fast – Mercedes Sprinter, blue lights flashing.

On a shout for some bloke who fell down the stairs at a stag do. Broken collar-bone, nasty head gash, heavy bruises and unconscious.

Real live care

Or they could be on the way to your place – your wife can’t breathe and she’s having a panic attack.

Real people with professional skills and bucket-loads of a quality no-one else has got. (Tweet this)


The only people in the world who give you time when others turn away.

Well think about it.

Two in the morning, who do you call?

Your Doc doesn’t do call-outs any more. The help-lines don’t understand you – or you can’t understand them. Online stuff is confusing – and you’re getting more worried by the second.

Thank goodness

Then the knock at the door.

Relief, reassurance, confidence.

Solid professionals with an easy feel.

World-class paramedics who know what they’re doing.

Strangers who do more to help you than the rest of the world combined.

Because two in the morning is a very scary place when things go wrong.

You need your Mum. You need your Dad. You need a doctor, medicine, encouragement, help.

And here’s two of them all in green – all these things and more.

Ordinary people like the rest of us. But with a caring feel and commitment  no-one could ever teach – kind-heartedness straight from the soul.

Yes, they’re quick. But they take their time. Rushing a patient creates problems.
You’re panicky, your wife can’t talk – so the first thing they get is garbled, disjointed, and not very accurate.

They do the checks – blood pressure, temperature, breathing. Step One, assess and stabilise.

They put her on oxygen, wrap her in a blanket – why didn’t you think of that?

Steady does it

Will they take her to hospital?

Quiet voices, steady, calming.

Colour in her cheeks now, no more gasping for air.

They take their time, but the clock is ticking. There’s a radio alert, tense, urgent.

Your wife smiles. You know the signs. Time to put the kettle on.

The two saints decline – the blonde girl with the pony tail, younger than your daughter. And the dark one with rosy cheeks.

So grown-up, but just kids – looking after the whole world.

Your wife gets tablets and a shot. More like herself and breathing easy. Back to bed, less distressing than A&E.

The two saints go. Twenty minutes and the world returns to normal.

Back to confidence. Back to being you.

They leave without lights or siren. Another ten hours ahead of them before they’re off shift.

The only people in the whole world who care when nobody else does. (Tweet this)

Harder worked than any of us will ever be. More stretched, more challenged. Yet by some miracle, totally dedicated to looking after you and me.

Think about that next time some wazzock bad-mouths them on TV.

They’ll help him too, if he needs it.

Nice to believe in human goodness again.