Some people close to me are hurting. Please know that you are loved for who you are, and nothing more is required of you but that you be you. The rest is white noise. I don’t know what I can do to help but I wish it was more. Several years ago a wonderful man from our department killed himself and everyone who knew him was stunned. This was the email I wrote with my first schedule after he died. On rereading, it’s much less profound than I remember, unfortunately. (I’ve also included all the routine schedule information for completeness but don’t feel bad if you don’t make it to the end or if there’s stuff that makes no sense):
So, I was at a conference in Barcelona when I heard the news about Alistair. Colin M and I ditched the next session and headed out to commiserate and reminisce over a prelunch bottle of cava (very European). There has certainly been a lot of death about lately; but it’s particularly hard not to try and make sense of what happened to Alistair. My take on it is this – there is no making sense of it. Life is short, and you only get one go at it. There is no afterlife (although I’ll admit I’d be pleasantly surprised if I’m wrong about this – unless, of course, it’s an unpleasant surprise…ugh! Would not enjoy the fiery pits of hell – but I guess that’s the idea) There is no intrinsic meaning to life, only what you make out of it yourself. And that’s why I’ve decided to (insert wildly ambitious and improbable life goal here). Actually, no, anyone that knows me knows that fun holidays with family are very important in my life. And on that note, I’ve noticed that when you complain about bike short tan lines; jet lag; or having trouble fitting into your trousers due to too much delicious fromage and wine, you get precious little sympathy. Disappointing.
Also, I have three little black dogs in my house, so it’s tough hearing so much bad press about the black dog of depression. Black dogs are already much less popular because they photograph so poorly compared to their lighter tinted brethren. And I’m not even allowed to hug them anymore, after recent research has shown they don’t actually like it. But, I know they love me – they are always so happy to see me, and have me around. If I had depression it would be a cat, I think – distant and unloving. Cats: Chip ‘em all, I say! And three cheers for Gareth Morgan. (With apologies to Lucy and Ankh).
Monday
A long day for Pia in OT 6. The planned long day patient actually got their surgery acutely, completely derailing our acute service a la neuro in the process, I suspect. However, they’ve managed to replace it with another big case.
Alistair P finally gets his long awaited (for TPS purposes) above knee amputation on the pm ortho list, so expect to see him around with a big smile on his face. Except that he’s in the middle of his exam – so maybe not.
Vicki’s been asterixed but I can’t remember why.
David S also going some way towards achieving his TPS dreams this week – acute pain rounds Monday and Tuesday.
OT 91’s list has been cancelled due to lack of interest surgeon, and in exchange someone agreed in my absence to staff all day extra preassessment in town. Manson has unwittingly stepped up for this. Unfortunately, it’s possible that no one knew the clinics were on, so there may be a degree of underbooking.
The dental list at Kene has a potentially MH susceptible patient for Hannah to look after. Hint: gas induction = bad idea.
Tuesday
I am DA.
Inservice in the pm.
UGI have managed to organize an exemption from pm closure, how did they do that??
Neuro extra in OT 6, but I’m sure they’ll finish on time.
Just to change things up, Sarah J providing level two supervision between OT’s 9 and 11. That’s because we are SMO light and RMO heavy.
OT 91 again unoccupied today, which frees up Andrew to cover paeds onc in town, which is lucky as I’d double booked Ken. Oops!
Wednesday
Beatrix is DA.
Thursday
The gen surg hoodoo has struck again in OT 91; Linda moved into a last minute gyne preassessment clinic in town instead.
A burly uncooperative man flagged for the Kene dental list, hence Hannah exchanged for two burly cooperative anaesthetists.
Friday
Our most poorly staffed day, and not a single list has gone down. Typical.
Phil Q in OT 8, specially brought in to anaesthetize a patient he saw in preassessment that he felt too guilty to inflict on another anaesthetist (I tried to tell him that was the best part of clinic, but he was having none of it). Good luck.
OK, thanks everyone who made it down this far.
RIP AliG – your name was a copy, but you were an original.