My recent panic about being unable to find my old emails has led to a resurgence of interest in my scheduling past (in me only, it seems – I don’t think anyone else cares two hoots). Anyway, here’s the latest:
From: Kirsty Jordan
Sent: Friday, 3 March 2017 12:36 PM
To: Wellington Anaesthesia All Staff
Subject: Labels
Well, the twins turn 16 today. I’d better start thinking of birthday presents, I guess. I did try and buy one of them some spermicidal jelly the other day, but the chemist just looked at me blankly, and then, after sotto voce conversations with every other member of staff in the shop, and much muted giggling, she told me they’d have to get it in specially. Not much used these days apparently; who knew? Clearly my family planning knowledge is as sketchy as probably befits a middle aged married anaesthetist. Just have to trust that the recently started pill and the strawberry flavoured condoms gifted by the older sister do the job. Or maybe I’m overreacting? After all, if you can’t trust a boy from Scots then I just don’t know where we are going as a society. And now I’ve just remembered I promised not to talk about my children in my work emails. So, all this actually happened to a friend of mine. Something that did happen to me was an insult shouted at me by a bystander when I was on my scooter going home the other day. “It’s a three wheeled bike, you pussy!” (or should that be “p***y”?). This did confuse me, I must confess. Was my masculinity in question? Was my flowery dress not a clue? Odd. In contrast, when Jim asked me during a gentle Sherwood list at Southern Cross the other day how long I’d been at Wgtn hospital, it was in a spirit of kindness that he said I was one of the most enduring anaesthetists around. Certainly, when I go to see the lovely Robert about my frozen shoulder this afternoon, I will feel that I have endured a great deal.
This mornings production planning meeting was full of fake news and alternative facts (“I told you that last week”). This Trump administration has much to answer for. But you didn’t need me to tell you that.
Tuesday
Sally (HOD)is DA. Best we all behave.
I’ve received a list and a halves (halfs? half’s?)worth of surgical alerts for the upper GI list. Good luck, Phil, and don’t make evening plans.
Wednesday
Douglas is DA (what? Again??)
I’ve got three anaesthetists assigned to preassessment because I’ve been asked to but I have no idea what happens or where they go. General confusion appears to be the order of the day. Preassessment is a mystery to me and I’m happy to leave it that way. Explanations just give me a headache.
Thursday
I am DA. The chickens come home to roost.
I’ve enjoyed this last blast of Summer, and some fabulous cricket, but the season is drawing to a close now, with the mornings noticeably darker. Not sure where I’m going with this, but Autumn always makes me feel philosophical. Look after yourselves, everyone, and have a lovely weekend.
Cheers,
Kirsty.