nonsense

want to escape
into the blue
out of the hurly
and hullabaloo

away from the ceaseless
kerfuffle and blare;
the bustle and burly
and tearing of hair

want to be idle
want to be free
to leisurely languidly
lie by the sea

with nothing to do
for a year and a day
oh why can't my dreaming
vacate me away?

An average day in General Practice

Today I felt good. I saw a patient today with a problem which has been present for a couple of weeks and has been referred non-urgently. The problem has been getting worse since then, and is now significantly affecting his functioning. He and his family are very worried and asked if they could get the appointment any quicker. So I rang the (very helpful) phoneline for the speciality involved, and they arranged me an appointment for tomorrow morning. One of the rare occasions when you feel really proud of the NHS. So now the patient thinks I'm wonderful, and more importantly, his problems and his anxiety will soon be resolved.

Today I also felt bad. In my one hour tutorial with one of the GPs at my practice we did an in depth analysis of a case I saw on call just over a weekend and handled pretty badly. Basically I allowed myself to be pressurised into calling an ambulance for a patient when that wasn't the most appropriate thing to do. Going through your mistakes in detail for an hour is a very good learning experience. It doesn't make you feel very good about yourself though.

I saw 17 patients today and they all made me feel different things. Some made me feel sad for them, some made me feel uncomfortable, some made me want to bang my head against a wall, some made me confused, some made me feel like I'd done something good, some like I could have handled things better. Some made me feel I wished I could have got to know them better. Most of these things I now wouldn't remember feeling if I wasn't deliberately trying to remember. The general effect of all this is to send me home feeling a bit drained and with occasional moodswings. The ones I remember most are the ones I was a bit worried about for whatever reason. Sometimes if I try to remember all I've done in a day my head feels like it's in a fog. I expect this will only get worse when I go to 10 minute appointments instead of 15.

Anyway, why am I sitting at work at ten past seven typing this when I've only just finished my paperwork? I am going home to my lovely husband who is making me tea. Then I have to see whether the floor in the back bedroom is ready to be sanded at the weekend. Hey-ho!

Temporary Escape

Enjoyed a deeply relaxing long weekend away with friends this weekend just gone, and return to Leeds feeling very refreshed. There were four of us girls who know each other from first year of uni, me, Mad Medea and two other medics. Husbands of all four were also present. As Mad Medea kindly arranged the date, location and all the catering, the rest of us only had to turn up and have fun. A bit strange to realise how much we have all grown up since first year as we chatted about DIY, organic food, marriage etc. Was great to see all of them, especially MM and husband, as they most unfairly moved to Gloucestershire last year and I haven't really seen them properly since their wedding. Craziness of life and recent house-buying has meant I haven't really kept up very well with the others in Leeds either though.

The other 2 doctor/women are my good friends from my year at university, one is now an SHO in Obs and Gynae, and the other is in general practice as part of her FY2 year. Both are struggling with the nightmare that is Modernising Medical Careers. For those not familiar with medicalspeak this is the system that means that despite both having settled lives and owning houses in Leeds, they now have to apply to the whole of Yorkshire (a pretty wide area) for their choice of training scheme, and then either to another county for the same speciality or to a whole different choice of career in Yorkshire as their second and third options. For my friend in O+G, the fact that she is currently employed at the same hospital for the same consultants as she would be for the job she wants cannot be taken into account, she will only get that job if she's better on paper than the other candidates who want it, despite the fact that the department know her and know she would do a good job. This is the kind of uncertainty that is ruling the lives of most junior doctors in the country right now. I am one of the lucky ones because I'm already on the GP training scheme, which will take me through until I am a qualified GP, provided I pass my exams.

We also all discussed our struggles with the responsibility that medicine can be, something I know I have been finding stressful lately as I get further on and make more decisions for myself. When something goes wrong and a patient dies it seems impossible to avoid torturing yourself with the "what if.." questions. What if I'd just checked that? What if I'd just done this? Would it have made any difference? Hindsight makes it hard to see whether what you did at the time was reasonable.

Enough of the doom and gloom anyway! We all relaxed and enjoyed ourselves and temporarily put worries on hold. It was a beautiful place that we stayed - a large converted barn near Ashbourne, called Billy's Bothy. Quite luxurious, with a wood burning stove, under floor heating and romantic cottage-like bedrooms with en suite. I begged for myself and Husband to have the en suite with a bath, as we have only got a shower room in our house at the moment, and greatly enjoyed wallowing in hot water for protracted periods of time. We shamelessly over-ate delicious food, drank wine, went for wintry walks, fed the crazy chickens and played games and watched movies in the evenings. Yesterday morning we all left, but myself and Husband went for another short walk in Dovedale on our way home, which was really beautiful. Amazing how much more relaxed I tend to feel when I've actually been away than when I just spend the weekend at home. Feels much longer, and gives the feeling of temporary escape from everyday life.

Diamonds

I don't think I'm getting my recommended daily allowance of diamonds. I've just been in a (not very exciting) practice meeting which was held in the patient's waiting room, and on the cover of an old "Happy" magazine, I saw the headline "Win a year's supply of diamonds!" Intrigued to know how much a year's supply of diamonds actually was, I looked inside and found that it was £1600 worth. I'm definitely not getting enough of them. I had better see somebody about it quickly otherwise I may develop chronic softness and lack of sparkle due to my diamond deficiency. However, on reflection, maybe I will postpone my official complaint until everyone in the world has their recommended daily allowance of food.

First Post

Having been inspired by reading blogs of some of my friends I have decided to write one of my own. Used to keep a diary, but this is much more satisfying to the ego, as if I ever manage to say something clever, someone might possibly read it.

This is not intended to be a medical blog, as a) everything has to be completely anonymised according to certain rules and even so, I’d hate for any patients to recognise themselves, and b) I’d end up talking about the NHS and that would just raise my blood pressure far too much, instead of being therapeutic. Frustration may occasionally overspill into a general rant about patients or healthcare system, but that’s not the main thing I want to write about.

I’ve called the blog doctor/woman, because that seems like the main tension in my life at the moment. Sometimes it seems like when you’re a doctor you don’t feel allowed to actually be a person any more. You have to be a reflective listener, non-judgemental and professional at all times. Sometimes I get home after a day at work and start acting insane for an hour or so, dancing around and saying stupid things because I’ve been so sensible and professional all day. I’m not saying I think doctors shouldn’t be professional or non-judgemental, but it can be a strain. It starts to make you feel maybe you can’t have your own opinion any more and you can’t decide to run down the street shouting “I’m a weapon of mass destruction” and waving an inflatable carrot. And maybe you can’t. Maybe part of the job, particularly the job of a GP, is becoming a respected member of society. Which is why maybe I need an alter ego who is allowed to be a romantic, a bit of a dreamer, someone who gets excited and rants about things, someone who writes poetry, over-reacts, cries, loves surprises and occasionally binges on chocolate. In short, a woman…