Life alone is very monochrome

I've made my second trip up to Edinburgh for the Fringe in as many years, although this year's journey was highly influenced by the fact that it was a Bank Holiday weekend and it was post-night shift. We didn't catch as much shows as last year (which was partially due to the fact that we left things a little too late and ended up without any tickets for a few of the stand-ups that we were keen on watching) and the ones that we did watch weren't as good as last year's.

It was a good weekend nevertheless; primarily due to the fact that it involved a lot of kicking back and relaxing and eating, and the fact that I was able to catch up with pretty much all of my close buddies in the north.

Radzi and I caught two shows - Apollo/Dionysus, a rather pretentious and self-absorbed play that did bring up intriguing philosophical questions. Its main fault was the fact that it took 2 hours to discuss issues that could've been covered in half an hour, and that's a rather fatal flaw when you're performing at 30 minutes past midnight. I wouldn't believe half of what the review in the link above says, although the same website's review of Apocalypse is wholly agreeable.

The weather in Edinburgh was surprisingly summery, and that led to my first visit to a driving range, where my performance was devastatingly horrid. Turns out that it's a heck of a lot more difficult than it appears to be but I'll probably do a lot better once/if I figure out the correct posture etc that I need to be in prior to hitting the ball.

The rest of the weekend passed rather quickly, as I jumped from one thing to the next e.g. hunting for a halal Subway shop with Yus & Shanti, catching the surprisingly watchable Clone Wars with the usual company and stuffing myself with a variety of foodstuff - from sushi to fried chicken to all that was on offer during the little tea party that Reem hosted (including a rather orgasmic slice of chocolate cake).

Which makes it all the more annoying that one has to come back down to Earth and get cracking with PACES.

On a totally different note, Anwar Ibrahim has won the by-election at Permatang Pauh by a majority of >15 000. It would be lovely to watch him lead a stronger and emboldened opposition in Parliament over the next few years whilst Pakatan Rakyat gets its house in order(which would be the practical thing to do if the aim of bringing about positive change in the country is more important than the attainment of power), but I wouldn't bet on him waiting for that long.

Post nights

I have just finished my first week of nights as the most senior on site at the new place and I must say that it turned out a lot better than I expected it to be. It was less nerve-wrecking that I thought it'd be, and I only had to call the boss for advice just the once. More importantly, I didn't kill anyone! I was helped by an able house officer, who was probably a lot more nervous having to do her first set of nights ever.

I am quite tired, so I won't go into the details of the week but I must say that it's a pleasure when you have very competent senior staff on call with you. It helps when you need to make tough decisions (e.g. Thrombolysing a patient who's arrested) and the people around you are ready to provide the necessary moral and physical support.

Will be putting work behind me this weekend though, with a couple of things to look forward to initially. That would be having a nice long chat with sweetie and catch up with radzi whilst catching a few shows at The Fringe.

Comfort zone

Here I am sitting at my new study, with a table that I have taken quite a liking for. Warm, cosy room. In my comfy robe. Sipping on some Columbian coffee that's been brewing in a cafetiére. Nibbling on Camembert cheese on crackers. Listening to Vivaldi play in the background. All that's missing is a cushy sofa or armchair, and that'll complete the perfect setting for a study, methinks. Oh, and if there was a big enough case to place all my fiction as well.

Now, to get down to the actual business of opening a book and studying!

Day 1 as a pseudo-registrar

Today was rather interesting and challenging.

With my consultant having been on-call over the weekend, my new F1 and I were left with a rather long list of patients to manage by ourselves. We had to struggle a little as some of them were pretty complicated, and this was made worse by me being on-call, which meant I had to run between helping out on the Admissions' Unit and helping with the management of my own patients.

The interesting bit was the fact that I was the most senior person on-call, which is a first for me. In retrospect, it is rather daunting to have such a responsibility laid on one's shoulders, and it was actually quite nerve-wrecking having to give advice to doctors from other specialities. Didn't really have time to think about it during the day though; besides the acute admissions, I had one cardiac arrest to attend to, a couple of procedures to perform in the day unit and I had to deal with a man who was happily going into VT every so often.

The challenging bit was me having to bite my tongue. I know for a fact that I don't get stressed during medical emergencies (in fact, I have been told off before for humming too much and for looking too relaxed!). But I do get extremely annoyed (and irritable) when I am confronted by failures within the system or by incompetence that is perpetuated by a lack of initiative. So if something like the notes of a patient go missing and nobody gives a damn about it, I'll start hunting for it with an evil look on my face.

The other thing that pissed me off was when I got told off by a neurosurgical consultant. Now, as with every other junior doctor, I am quite happy(-ish) to be told off if I have done something wrong. But I won't stand and accept abuse from someone more senior than myself if the criticism is unfounded or if it's used as a method for said senior to caress his ego.

To cut a long story short, I had spent the better part of my day (on a day that I was awfully busy with other matters) with attempts to get in touch with the surgeons, but was thwarted again and again due to a number of reasons. By the time the on-call registrar had deigned to speak to me, it was approaching 5 o'clock, and our conversation was hijacked by the consultant who proceeded to rant about how it is extremely inappropriate to wait 'till 5 o'clock for such an urgent referral blah blah blah.

I somehow managed to politely interject his remarks and proceeded to explain the difficulty in getting in touch with his team. After a few more minutes of listening to my referral, he then promptly decided that I wasn't senior enough to make the referral and that it should be done by either a registrar or a consultant. And this was after he had tried to tell me off for not making the referral at an earlier time. I am quite surprised that I didn't tell him to fuck off, but even I know that that's not something you tell consultants.

My own consultant wasn't terribly impressed with the neurosurgeon either and muttered something about them being a bunch of wankers. To which I wholeheartedly agree. Well, not all of them (Prof Mendelow remains one of the warmest and most supporting seniors I've ever met), but this just reinforces the entire point of me having decided to not pursue a surgical career.

Road Trip

One of the commonest questions that I am asked is along the lines of 'Why do you remain in the UK when you come from a place with such beautiful weather?'. Today was one of those days that makes every such cliché seem to be the word of God - a constant downpour that pisses on the concept of 'summer'. With a grey curtain that hovers over everything, as it slowly sucks all feeling of hope and joy into a metaphorical black hole.

Or as a radio DJ said in a typical understatement : it is an abysmal day.

It wasn't all gloom and doom though. The planned excursion down south with my movie buddy went almost according to plan (i.e. we were a little late). It was her first viewing of The Dark Knight, which she responded to almost as enthusiastically as I did. It was a good drive down in what was essentially my car's first long journey, with all the essential ingredients of good company and good food. And the trip back up was punctured by little glimpses of light and a rather varied conversation which ranged from 'what causes a cat to vomit?' to the more profound question of the existence of God. It's funny how I connect with her; I used to think that we were quite different individuals with a few overlapping interests until Sweetie said that she's the female version of me, albeit one who's a lot more attractive to the opposite sex!

The good thing about rain is that it's perfect for going to bed. Which is what I'll do once I've finished my drink and the new novel that I rather randomly purchased earlier this week. And tomorrow I'll cure the empty, longing feeling of not having chatted with Sweetie properly for a couple of days and get down to work. Hopefully.

Empty Decorations

The first Wednesday of August is the day that you shouldn't get admitted into hospital (in the UK, that is). In fact, you should try your best to not get admitted during the first couple of weeks of August as it's changeover time, with new doctors roaming the corridors with bewildered looks on their faces. So instead of 'best care', you'll either get young doctors who aren't quite sure about what to do or you'll be at a hospital that's severely short-staffed as a number of doctors have gone off for their induction/orientation sessions.

Or in worst case scenarios, you'll have a wonderful mixture of both.

My first day at the new place wasn't horrendous in a clinical sense, but it was immensely trying in other ways. A day full of induction, which includes gems like 'washing hands will save your patients' lives' and 'your ID badge will serve to identify you', is almost enough for sanity to appear as a distant horizon and make you grab for the nearest shotgun and blast the head of the next idiot who dares state the obvious.

And as usual, the organisation was lamentable and as we all know, disorganisation really pisses me off. A bit of careful thought might have made life a little easier, but it's probably too much to ask. It was such a mundane day that I almost felt amused when one of the new house officers got called off for a cardiac arrest and she was quite literally running up and down the room with a look of utter horror, not quite knowing what to do or where to go. Of course, I started to feel bad for her a couple of seconds later. Not quite fair on her, really.

Tomorrow will be the start of proper clinical work. In the meanwhile, I still need to unpack. Am currently multi-tasking though; writing this entry, trying to get a friend to feel better, unpacking and eating my poor excuse for a dinner. The aim is to get the place to resemble normality by tomorrow night, and then I can laze back and look forward to my little road trip with Jo this weekend. After which, the calm really should end and preparation for the exam should begin i earnest.