Friday, June 30, 2006
Is it because I grew up in a beautiful house my parents built and only ever knew that one comfortable home?
I hope not. I hope it’s so I’m due a huge whack of good house karma when I come to building my own house. I have lots of ideas and images brewing in my head for it… all I know for sure is that it will be full of light, and have a private study for me, and a dedicated craft room for art and projects with my children. Maybe it’s also so I am totally ready when I do build my house to know exactly what I need most, to make it the perfect home.
I’m whinging on about this because we’re just moved into a new house. It’s owned by Mirabelle’s parents, and I had only seen it once, about a year ago, before we went in on Wednesday night. I thought it alright when I saw it, and Mirabelle told me her rents were going to do lots more work on it, to continually improve it.
It is now obvious that they haven’t.
To cap it all, I have drawn the short straw and got the piddling room, with no desk and no wardrobe. This is worrying to a 4th year med student.
However, my own parents had planned to come up tomorrow and move the piano. So they are going to help me sort this room, by building a desk and probably getting a wardrobe. I am so grateful for parents who care about where I live.
The neglect is universal. Mirabelle’s room is probably the shabbiest in the house. But my God, how could you let your own child live is such a mess?
I haven’t lived in a really nice house since being in Bham, but at least the rent’s been cheap. This year’s rent is the steepest so far, but I don’t think I am getting anymore for my money. But it is Mirabelle’s parents who have set the rent, and how could I say no? She is my best friend and we’ve been planning on living together in the 4th year since the 1st year.
So all in all a bloody awkward situation.
(made more awkward as I think Mirabelle may have seen my blog when I was posting in her room. Which is weird. I have never written this for my friends to see, but equally I have never written this not to be seen by my friends (if that makes any sense whatsoever...). So if she does read this, I hope she doesn’t take offence.)
PS I am in the Medschool, literally just finished working, at 6.10pm on a Friday night. The computer cluster is completely empty. It’s utterly bizarre. And I am utterly sad)
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Anyway, moving on, I’ve had an okay first week. I am definitely certain that I am not ophthalmologist material, after watching a cataract op. Fascinating, clever, life-changing, but urgh….. Eyes and scalpels…. The first academic in day (known as AIDS – well done Medschool, that works well…) was excruciatingly dull. A full day of lectures on diabetes is not my cup of tea.
I went to a friend’s 21st in a Leamington Spa yesterday. Really good fun – even if her dad did insist on team games. Yes, team games at a 21st. Actually, it was okay - they’d hired sumo suits and gladiator battling thingys and it was a laugh. Even if I ended up going in the sumo against a friend of the birthday girl’s from home, who’s currently in the Army. Yes, the ARMY. He actually picked me up and threw me. No-one has done that since I was about 5. After the games, we stayed up late drinking cider and toasting marshmallows round the fire, and it was good.
But this morning I had to get back to Brum to play in a church service. I’d slept on the floor for about 3 ½ hours, so was exhausted, and then the train I thought I was getting was cancelled. But luckily Kerry was an absolute angel and got up and drove me at 8am this morning. So I was in time for church, I played the hymns (badly), and I got paid. Woot!
I have just read this back and I think that it’s the tiredness that’s making me so rubbish today. At least I hope it is…
PS We’re moving out of this house and into the actual actual house one evening next week. So I will be completely sans net at home, and not sure if I’ll be in medschool. So who knows with the posting?
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
3 days into the 4th year, and I still can’t believe I’m got this far. 4th year! What happened?
So far, its pretty similar to 3rd year. Almost identical really. My current hospital is just as lovely as I remembered from last time. People actually give a shit: about patients, about staff, even about medical students. What can I say? I really want a job there in – gulp – 2 years time. How can it be that close?
I tell you what I certainly don’t feel grown-up enough to be a 4th year. 4th years are old and know stuff. I don’t know anything, and I am certainly NOT old. But the new 1st years are incredibly young…! I guess everyone feels like this – I not getting older, it’s all the other buggers getting younger.
Our year is now split into blocks, and we do the same modules at the same time, just in different hospitals. At the moment I’m on EDEN, which is eyes, diabetes, eldery care and neurology, a sort of odds and sods when each individual topic is HUGE. I feel like I should actually start knowing stuff now too. Rubbish! The people at my hospital in my block are mostly cool. Two Asian boys who are both slackers and on my GP placement (lucky me) and a very white sweet boy who did the religious beliefs module with me, who I now know is a staunch Catholic, who are all in the first half of the group. Then there’s me, Laura (pleasant but slightly difficult Asian girl – she doesn’t listen when you’re having a conversation with her), and Tom, a very lovely Mancunian lad. I like Tom, I think he’s great, but we are spending all day together, and he’s driving me, which is a bit much when its just the two of us… I only met him on Monday…
We were trying to master ophthalmoscopes today. I am officially rubbish at it. I was okay last year, when we just needed to see a red reflex and maybe some vessels, but I am having difficulties getting further than that. I managed to see optic discs and stuff today, but I cannot tell if they’re normal, or measure the cup, or reliably identify naevus on the retina. Argh! Ah well, least that confirms my suspicion that ophthalmology is not my speciality.
On the plus side, I have finally finished by FGM essay. I think its ok. I got a bit ‘feminist’ while concluding, but considering what I have read and seen while researching the subject, it is no wonder I got feminist on the end. If you’re interested in finding out more, have a read of this by Amnesty International, or this very well written story by Megan Lindholm. FGM does not make comfortable or pleasant reading, but it opens your eyes to the unseen cruelty, continued in good faith. Our generation is tasked with abolishing FGM and other forms of violence against women, without destroying diverse and beautiful cultures. Are you up for it?
Sunday, June 18, 2006
So had my last night out with my old housemates. I really am going to miss them. We went to Subway City, with some of Becca's friends, and had much fun. Bopping up and down and drinking too much. And now its over. 'We' are no more.
I've been thinking about each of them, and what I'll miss. With housemate number 1, I'll miss her bizaare sense of humour, her sense of fun, her terrible taste in men, her decadent taste in fashion mags (no more elle or vogue for me!), and her wide screen telly. I won't miss her selfishness and laziness. Housemate number 2 - well, I will miss her grubbiness, her random hours, her stories of all night parties, her flirting (she doesn't know she's doing it - its comedy). She's the only women I've ever felt any sexual tension with, but I think that's cause she extudes sexuality. Everyone is caught in it. I won't miss her vile hangovers and terrible mood swings, her fag ends across the garden, and the choking whiffs of cigarettes she brings with her.
I may have whinged about them, but I have enjoyed living with them, and never being self-conscious with them.
With the whole sexual tension thing going on with my housemate on Friday, I eas wondering if I'd ever go for a women. I mean, I've kissed women before, on the lips and on one memorable occasion with tongues (yeah that was the aforementioned housemate), and loads of 'dirty' dancing with women, but its always been as a display. You know, because men look. And so I realised that my lipstick lesbianism is actually completely hetrosexual, and although I can appreciate a beautiful sexy women, she doesn't actually do it for me. This was compounded by watching Imagine Me And You at the cinema. The lesbians in that did nothing for me. And I mean nothing. Not arousal or disgust. Nothing.
Oops, here's Mirabelle, gotta go!
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Thursday, June 15, 2006
You Are Jean Grey
Although your fate is often unknown, you always seem to survive (even after death).
Your mind is your greatest weapon, literally!
Powers: telepathy and telekinesis, the ability to project thoughts into the mind of others, communication with animals
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
I have decided that the decision to come home was a good one. I am returning to
I also know where my placement is! I will be going back to the hospital of my very placement last September. Which is lovely – I really liked it as a hospital, and next Monday I’m going to actually know how to get there and my way round inside. Hurrah!
(When I was there, I liked it so much I thought I would apply for my FY1 year there – wonder if I’ll continue to like it… I hope so, I really do)
I have been doing much kitten cuddling today, and they are so impossibly cute! I want to keep them forever like this, but they will have to grow up and move out… just like me I guess!
I have also smashed 2500 word barrier on my essay. After so long reading and thinking about it, but never getting round to writing, I am really enjoying it. So much so I was working til 11pm tonight. Crazy stuff!
But all in all today I am feeling much better. Much more my usual buoyant optimistic happy little self. Which can only be a good thing, right?
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
I’m on the train home.
Yeah, I gave in and decided to stop whinging and go home to see if it would cheer me up. And if worst comes to worst, at least I can cuddle a kitten.
I went to see the Magic Flute at the University last night, and my, it was goooooood. I really enjoyed myself (despite the fact Tamino was played by a professional drafted in…). My singing teacher was in it and she was ace. It brought back lots of memories from a few years ago when I sang it the chorus. My dad was also singing in the chorus, the first time he’d sung in front of anyone in his life! I’d been offered the part my singing teacher sang last night (first boy) but opted out, due to exam pressure. The second big regret in my life.
(The first was not taking Art at AS level. Is two regrets a lot or a little aged 21?)
I also broke the 1000 word barrier on my FGM essay today. Very exciting! I’m really getting into now, really enjoying it. I also read through Mirabelle’s Bioterrorism: Smallpox essay.
How do you tell your very best friend in the world that she really sucks at writing?
In the main, its okay, but I’ve highlighted a good chunk as super sucky. And it just doesn’t have style. You know what I mean? It reads like she wrote if for GCSE. Now our Mirabelle is bright as a button (dur, med student) and one of the most emotionally strong people I know, but she just can’t translate that to paper. Me, I’m the opposite. Quite often tongue-tied in real life, always articulate on paper (at least I think so….).
So who’s the worst off? Me or her? In this job, I think both of us at some point. Her right now, because she has to write intelligent, coherent stuff to pass. Or me right now, as I have to talk to lots of new people everyday (though I am slowly developing a ‘doctor’ persona, in which role I can easily converse with patients – its just its not always in place, and things going wrong can cause it to slip). Her later in life, when writing papers and reports becomes important to further ones career. Or me later in life, when networking and job interviews are important to further ones career.
I tell you, wouldn’t it be great to be good at everything?!
Monday, June 12, 2006
Alright, so I’m a rubbish blogger.
I’m having another crisis of being enough (they are getting a little repetitive, aren’t they?) and so I have been too busy drowning my sorrows in cheesecake and Green and Black’s finest offerings.
I think it’s end of holiday blues. You know, new placement starting a week today (I still do not know where it will be…the Medschool couldn’t organise a piss up in a brewery), having to ‘camp’ at Mirabelle’s for two weeks while between house contracts, losing my beloved housemates, gaining 4 new ones who I don’t know that I can live with (one of them I’ve only seen once this academic year…).
And on top of that I have to write a 4000 word essay this week.
I only left home on Saturday, and I’m so homesick. I keep crying over stupid things, and I feel so empty.
The emptiness is compounded by a severe attack of loneliness. I’m back in Brum, so not with my family. My housemates have gone to Brighton to find a house and to Blackpool for a funeral respectively, Mirabelle is busy with her lovely boyf John, Felicity is busy busy busy and Jenna is in
So here I am, trying to be enough, feeling all alone.
(See, I shouldn’t have bothered. That was so wet. I promise to be more cheerful tomorrow.)
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
We had my little sister’s Guide Patrol at our house tonight, having fun coating the kitchen in a layer of icing sugar, I mean, making sugar mice. I was chief helper, and had a great time. I’d forgotten how much enjoy doing those sorts of things. I’ve been thinking about volunteering with one of the youth groups at my church – guides, brownies, cubs or the like, but I’m not sure I have the time. At least, I think I could make the time, but I’d need to be much more organised and pro-active. And next year I am also going to be producing Joseph with Felicity, as well havinga life, so maybe I’ll holdfire on that one, until I know how things are going to pan out.
Me and Mirabelle are also going to try and swim at least twice a week next year. I think this is very timely, as I am getting rather unfit… I went swimming with my Dad on Monday night, and found it was a little tougher than usual. I swam 30 lengths – gaining 8 on him (that’s an achievement - he’s disgustingly fit, but not such a good swimmer), but it wasn’t comfortable and easy. Bummer. I used to swim 50 lengths no trouble. I do have a natural affinity for water – both me and my sister are very competent swimmers, and we love being in the water. I would love my own pool one day.
O, and only 3 more days of the dull job to go! Hurrah!