Wednesday, October 12, 2005
What? Again?...Noo
It’s creating one hell of a pressure. I suppose the pressure cooker was on even before I started in this hospital. And now they are releasing the valve, and the steam is fuming out, everybody is hot under the collar and who gets boiled? Me! Us! The trainee anaesthetists.
We’ve been moved about so much and now we’re moving again.
I could tell the rumour of us moving to another hospital had been brewing for a while. But today is even more so, it beats the hot topic of who got off with whom after the Friday Autumn ball. Tomorrow the regional deanery bosses will come up with the confirmation of which hospital we’re going to go to.
And not that we can’t guess, me particularly, I know and I don’t want to go there. It’s a dump. There, walking skeletons sauntering just outside the hospital and the air they leave behind became somewhat stale. All you need is like a greyish weather and a stretch of desert land, blowing wind with wolves howling and hyenas scavenging in the distant with tumbleweed blown across an abandoned pub, to make you wonder why??. I drove around there with my anal sphincters tight all the time.
The people there aren’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box but they talk like they are the only people living on planet earth and so they think they know everything. Sometimes to the point compromising patients’ care, compromising a doctor’s fuse box.
This is what I felt like saying sometimes: ‘If you bloody feel that you are so bloody clever, and you can’t bloody do what people request you to do, get your bloody ass to a bloody med school, and pay the bloody student loan like everybody does’. Really, sometimes, having half the knowledge is even worse than not having any at all.
I can’t function around people like that. I know being bossy is undesirable, but they must know who makes decisions and that they are there to work together not making it hard for other people. This vagueness is making me dizzy as well but I found out a few people in the hospital been reading Bluescrubs, hence the: they, them, us, we, that people, here, there, and that place.
The other day:
Naj, is that you with your mask on posing on the internet?
And I went, just the mask on? Or have I got clothes on as well?
They laughed of course but, eeekk. And if you are reading this, lovely ladies, I want to say that you’re the best and yes I apologise for singing Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree and caused an immediate downpour the other day. I will miss you guys badly.
At the reception, Angie who is my Scottish ‘cousin’, said ‘But Naj…you’ve only been here two seconds?!!’.
Well exactly, I am not happy either. I feel that I’ve warmed up to the people here. I know I pooh-poohed the place before but it’s the location that I was struggling to get to terms with, you can’t change that. It’s the people you work with which is normally what make or break a day at work. And how much time do I spend time at a time working? 24 hours on the trot at a time.
Maggie and Jan couldn’t believe it. These theatre ladies fear for the integrity of the hospital. Who is going to do on calls? Who is going to go to cardiac arrests? Who is going to man the theatre?
They fear that once we all move, the standard of care will spiral down even faster. They fear they will lose their jobs as well and that they have to resort to packing crispy Italian salad for Tesco.
It feels like leaving behind a sinking ship.
Oh well I still have to go. Sorry.
We’ve been moved about so much and now we’re moving again.
I could tell the rumour of us moving to another hospital had been brewing for a while. But today is even more so, it beats the hot topic of who got off with whom after the Friday Autumn ball. Tomorrow the regional deanery bosses will come up with the confirmation of which hospital we’re going to go to.
And not that we can’t guess, me particularly, I know and I don’t want to go there. It’s a dump. There, walking skeletons sauntering just outside the hospital and the air they leave behind became somewhat stale. All you need is like a greyish weather and a stretch of desert land, blowing wind with wolves howling and hyenas scavenging in the distant with tumbleweed blown across an abandoned pub, to make you wonder why??. I drove around there with my anal sphincters tight all the time.
The people there aren’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box but they talk like they are the only people living on planet earth and so they think they know everything. Sometimes to the point compromising patients’ care, compromising a doctor’s fuse box.
This is what I felt like saying sometimes: ‘If you bloody feel that you are so bloody clever, and you can’t bloody do what people request you to do, get your bloody ass to a bloody med school, and pay the bloody student loan like everybody does’. Really, sometimes, having half the knowledge is even worse than not having any at all.
I can’t function around people like that. I know being bossy is undesirable, but they must know who makes decisions and that they are there to work together not making it hard for other people. This vagueness is making me dizzy as well but I found out a few people in the hospital been reading Bluescrubs, hence the: they, them, us, we, that people, here, there, and that place.
The other day:
Naj, is that you with your mask on posing on the internet?
And I went, just the mask on? Or have I got clothes on as well?
They laughed of course but, eeekk. And if you are reading this, lovely ladies, I want to say that you’re the best and yes I apologise for singing Tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree and caused an immediate downpour the other day. I will miss you guys badly.
At the reception, Angie who is my Scottish ‘cousin’, said ‘But Naj…you’ve only been here two seconds?!!’.
Well exactly, I am not happy either. I feel that I’ve warmed up to the people here. I know I pooh-poohed the place before but it’s the location that I was struggling to get to terms with, you can’t change that. It’s the people you work with which is normally what make or break a day at work. And how much time do I spend time at a time working? 24 hours on the trot at a time.
Maggie and Jan couldn’t believe it. These theatre ladies fear for the integrity of the hospital. Who is going to do on calls? Who is going to go to cardiac arrests? Who is going to man the theatre?
They fear that once we all move, the standard of care will spiral down even faster. They fear they will lose their jobs as well and that they have to resort to packing crispy Italian salad for Tesco.
It feels like leaving behind a sinking ship.
Oh well I still have to go. Sorry.
