When one monkey yawns, all the other monkeys yawn.
We're all monkeys.
My friend's grandmother is dying. It's very sad. It sounds very distressing. She thinks she's 28. She's been talking to her husband, who died 10 years ago. She doesn't recognise her son.
We all know that people reach their natural end at some point. Be that when they are 50, 60 or 103. We all know that it has to happen, and that it is good, in a way. If there was no death, life would not be valuable and love would mean nothing. Forever would actually mean forever and no one can handle that.
We know this, and yet... When someone we know dies, even if they're 88, 99 or 103, it is still terribly sad.
But why is it that I am sad about this lady, whom I have never met, dying?
We're all monkeys.
I can't stand to see my friends cry. It tears at me to know that they are suffering. I want to hug them and hold them and tell them that it will all be ok.
But there is a problem with that - it won't be.
The pain is inevitable and inescapable. It will grow less, but not quickly, and it will never quite disappear.
I can say nothing to help. I am aware of this and yet... I cannot stand to sit here and do nothing. I can't let her feel that no one cares. But if I am to show that I care, I shall only make it worse.
Would that there were some way of conveying my sympathy and - yes - empathy without appearing condescending, depressing or belittling. I fear that it is not so.
No one can understand what she is feeling: We have all felt it, we have all been there, we have all lived through it... But still we don't know. It is harder for yourself than it is for anyone else, ever. It is not possible for anyone to comprehend a pain that size, even when they are feeling it for themselves. It is never the same, for any two people, and your own grief is always the worst. Always. It's not going to go away easily. It's going to take time, and tears, but it will happen. And whilst it goes on, you don't have to be alone. You have us, to talk to, but we can't help. Nothing can fix this, and no one can understand.
Do I really think that would help?
29/08/2008
18/08/2008
Doctors Remixed
I'd hate to put across the impression that I hate doctors regardless of who they are, what they do, or how they present themselves. I don't. I like doctors, I'd like to be a doctor, I admire what they do and how hard they have to work and had to work to get there, I admire their intelligence, and their strength in facing death. I admire their ability to deal with people day in, day out. Sick people, unhappy people, bitter people, pushy people, dying people, paranoid people... etc. I realise that when a doctor is seeing hundreds of patients in a week it is inevitable that there is one patient he upsets or disappoints. I sympathise too, because most patients do not realise that they are not the centre of their doctor's world, that their doctor will not remember the exact problem they were having when they last saw him in 2005.
I've got some very good friends who are doctors, and I adore them. Mylem, who died in January, was a nephologist with a double specialty in feet and cosmetic surgery. Bizarre. But absolutely lovely. Perfect, in fact. If it weren't for him and his GP expertise I'd probably still believe that my joints hurt because I'm thin... And that my father is right and sexuality is a choice.
As I see it, there are three reasons that people choose to become doctors. Fascination with the human body, medicine and life; a desire to help people, save lives and be useful; and pure, unadulterated arrogance.
There is a fourth - parental pressure - but I feel that is irrelevant at present.
Those doctors whose primary interest is the physiology of it all, are likely to become very good doctors (assuming they have the intelligence) with wide experience and the ability to spot 'zebras'. They might not, however, have the most amiable bedside manner and thus may cause upset to patients who feel they are not listening, not paying attention, not caring enough. But, they'll get the job done, done well, and done right.
Those doctors whose primary interest is caring for people (assuming they have the intelligence)
are likely to be a hit with their patients, by view of their cheerful, caring manner, their interest in the people, and comfort. However, they might be more cautious in their diagnoses, more likely to spot a 'horse' than a 'zebra', and whilst they'll be wonderful for typical cases, could cause immense aggravation in the more peculiar cases.
Both of these 'sorts' will get on just fine for the majority of their patients, but there will always be a few people who don't get on with them, don't feel listened to, don't feel satisfied. But that's ok, it doesn't matter at all. The doctor cannot be blamed for that, because it's just the same situation as meeting a lady at the bus stop and finding that she infuriates you. One doesn't get along with everyone, and doctors are no different.
The third sort, however, are where the problems arise. There is a chap in my chemistry class at school who is going to be a doctor. He's arrogant, he's unkind, he is a megalomaniac. He is better than the rest of the class, because he is going to study medicine. He's already got a "that's Doctor Bloggs, actually" air about him, and he's still in sixth form. If anyone outside of him and his equally stuck-up friends is asked a question, they are laughed at. Regardless of whether their response is correct or not. He's going to get the best marks in the class. "I got 33!" he shouts. Awe on the teacher's face... "Did anyone get higher?" "Yes, Julian got 35!" says my loud, rather annoying friend. What I have is modesty, whilst what this chap has is arrogance. I digress (frequently). The point is, that this chap is a horrible, horrible person. He doesn't have any special interest in health and disease. He certainly doesn't care about people excessively. He scarcely cares for anyone. What he wants is to be a doctor and as a result, to be better than others, because that is what being a doctor is about, clearly.
It is these doctors, the ones born of arrogance and ill-spent intelligence that truly disappoint. They are, I believe, in the minority, but it is and will always be these doctors who are ranted about on the internet, moaned about in cafes, and complained about to PCTs. They give doctors a bad name. They give doctors the bad name that I gave them in my previous post. The post was a jibe at bad doctors, inconsiderate doctors, stupid doctors and arrogant doctors. All other doctors were not considered. As always, there are generalisations for doctors, as there are for blacks, homosexuals, and goths.
And so, for the record, my GP is lovely. He's awkward and socially... awkward, but he is always sweet to me, always listens, and has always taken me seriously. My rheumatologist is polite, quiet and again, awkward. A friend had an unfortunate experience with him, but I try not to judge him on that because I know she can be difficult and inarticulate, and it's nothing to do with me! He's been good to me, even though I know I infuriate him through being sullen and shy. Mylem, Trent and Braham are all fabulous people, wonderful friends, and I'd love them to be my doctors, but I know that each of them have had problems with patients who were not satisfied with their treatment, thought they weren't being listened to, or felt shunned. Because, and I'll say it again, all doctors have some patients with whom they do not see eye-to-eye.
phew.
I've got some very good friends who are doctors, and I adore them. Mylem, who died in January, was a nephologist with a double specialty in feet and cosmetic surgery. Bizarre. But absolutely lovely. Perfect, in fact. If it weren't for him and his GP expertise I'd probably still believe that my joints hurt because I'm thin... And that my father is right and sexuality is a choice.
As I see it, there are three reasons that people choose to become doctors. Fascination with the human body, medicine and life; a desire to help people, save lives and be useful; and pure, unadulterated arrogance.
There is a fourth - parental pressure - but I feel that is irrelevant at present.
Those doctors whose primary interest is the physiology of it all, are likely to become very good doctors (assuming they have the intelligence) with wide experience and the ability to spot 'zebras'. They might not, however, have the most amiable bedside manner and thus may cause upset to patients who feel they are not listening, not paying attention, not caring enough. But, they'll get the job done, done well, and done right.
Those doctors whose primary interest is caring for people (assuming they have the intelligence)
are likely to be a hit with their patients, by view of their cheerful, caring manner, their interest in the people, and comfort. However, they might be more cautious in their diagnoses, more likely to spot a 'horse' than a 'zebra', and whilst they'll be wonderful for typical cases, could cause immense aggravation in the more peculiar cases.
Both of these 'sorts' will get on just fine for the majority of their patients, but there will always be a few people who don't get on with them, don't feel listened to, don't feel satisfied. But that's ok, it doesn't matter at all. The doctor cannot be blamed for that, because it's just the same situation as meeting a lady at the bus stop and finding that she infuriates you. One doesn't get along with everyone, and doctors are no different.
The third sort, however, are where the problems arise. There is a chap in my chemistry class at school who is going to be a doctor. He's arrogant, he's unkind, he is a megalomaniac. He is better than the rest of the class, because he is going to study medicine. He's already got a "that's Doctor Bloggs, actually" air about him, and he's still in sixth form. If anyone outside of him and his equally stuck-up friends is asked a question, they are laughed at. Regardless of whether their response is correct or not. He's going to get the best marks in the class. "I got 33!" he shouts. Awe on the teacher's face... "Did anyone get higher?" "Yes, Julian got 35!" says my loud, rather annoying friend. What I have is modesty, whilst what this chap has is arrogance. I digress (frequently). The point is, that this chap is a horrible, horrible person. He doesn't have any special interest in health and disease. He certainly doesn't care about people excessively. He scarcely cares for anyone. What he wants is to be a doctor and as a result, to be better than others, because that is what being a doctor is about, clearly.
It is these doctors, the ones born of arrogance and ill-spent intelligence that truly disappoint. They are, I believe, in the minority, but it is and will always be these doctors who are ranted about on the internet, moaned about in cafes, and complained about to PCTs. They give doctors a bad name. They give doctors the bad name that I gave them in my previous post. The post was a jibe at bad doctors, inconsiderate doctors, stupid doctors and arrogant doctors. All other doctors were not considered. As always, there are generalisations for doctors, as there are for blacks, homosexuals, and goths.
And so, for the record, my GP is lovely. He's awkward and socially... awkward, but he is always sweet to me, always listens, and has always taken me seriously. My rheumatologist is polite, quiet and again, awkward. A friend had an unfortunate experience with him, but I try not to judge him on that because I know she can be difficult and inarticulate, and it's nothing to do with me! He's been good to me, even though I know I infuriate him through being sullen and shy. Mylem, Trent and Braham are all fabulous people, wonderful friends, and I'd love them to be my doctors, but I know that each of them have had problems with patients who were not satisfied with their treatment, thought they weren't being listened to, or felt shunned. Because, and I'll say it again, all doctors have some patients with whom they do not see eye-to-eye.
phew.
15/08/2008
Doctors...
I would quite like to be a doctor. The reason I cannot be a doctor is clear already. No doctor ever got to where they are by 'quite liking' the idea. So I am told, they worked and they worked, and they work and they work, and they all have a terrible time of it*.
From what I hear, doctors require the three following character properties:
- Arrogance
- An inability to listen
- Terrible handwriting
Anything else - a knowledge of anatomy for example - is optional and extra.
Hence, here follows a comic with no artistic merit whatsoever.
(If you click it with your mouse it will magically grow to a more legible size)
Patient: I seem to have joint pain...
Rheumatologist: Of COURSE you have joint pain! You're 3 POUNDS OVERWEIGHT!
-
Rheumatologist: You need to give your body time to recover. Just because you're within normal range it doesn't mean you're not still FAT!
-
Rheumatologist: With all due respect, it's not at all surprising that your joints hurt. Look at you! You're severely underweight!
Patient: >:[
Admittedly, it's not just doctors. My mother was convinced for years that my joints hurt because I didn't eat enough (well, that's what she thought when she believed my joints hurt at all). But you do expect doctors to be a little less ignorant, don't you? Of course you do. That's their job. To be knowledgeable about diseases. If I wanted the opinion that I could get from Joe Bloggs down the pub, I'd go to Joe Bloggs down the pub. But I don't. I want a professional opinion by someone who has undergone extensive education. So why can't they offer us anything more useful than "You don't weigh right"?
It is worth mentioning that my rheumatologist is pretty good and has never suggested that I don't actually have anything wrong with me or that it'd all be fixed if I weighed a little more or a little less or a little more sideways; but there are enough out there that will and it's simply unacceptable.
Another doctor musing I have is that Doctors should not blog unless they're going to blog something medically and scientifically useful. I've seen really good MD blogs. Dr. Rob at Musings of a Distractible Mind tells us (patients) what to do and expect at the doctor's office, and tells them (doctors) how best to treat patients. He shows us the other side of the coin and helps us to understand and be better patients. How positively delightful! How useful! How instantly bookmarked!
However, whilst I was perusing blogs earlier this afternoon I did come across a thoroughly disappointing MD blog. It was, really, a personal blog, but advertised as an MD blog. Were it an essay, it would begin with "This blog aims to explore the various medical stuff a doctor comes into contact with..." However, it turns out just to be some disturbingly self-indulgent ramblings from a very unhappy person. That's the sort of blog that I would run a mile from at the best of times, but as a doctor it just seems to be... stupid. If one of his patients stumbled upon that blog, I don't think any of them would ever make another appointment with him. I'm not naming any URLs here, for obvious reasons, but not least because there are probably numbers of these blogs scattered hither and thither throughout cyberspace. He is not unique. I'm not suggesting that doctors shouldn't have personal blogs, or that some self-indulgent rambling is a bad thing... But it should be fairly anonymous if your profession is caring for people. One cannot choose to turn on and off MD status; as soon as MD status is lost, it can never be regained with those people who witnessed the lapse.
*I've got to say that I was only told that by someone who always regretted not studying medicine and who likes to try to make sense of her lack of MD-status. Or PhD status. Or MSc status. Really, she can't have wanted it too badly...
From what I hear, doctors require the three following character properties:
- Arrogance
- An inability to listen
- Terrible handwriting
Anything else - a knowledge of anatomy for example - is optional and extra.
Hence, here follows a comic with no artistic merit whatsoever.
(If you click it with your mouse it will magically grow to a more legible size)
Patient: I seem to have joint pain...
Rheumatologist: Of COURSE you have joint pain! You're 3 POUNDS OVERWEIGHT!
-
Rheumatologist: You need to give your body time to recover. Just because you're within normal range it doesn't mean you're not still FAT!
-
Rheumatologist: With all due respect, it's not at all surprising that your joints hurt. Look at you! You're severely underweight!
Patient: >:[
Admittedly, it's not just doctors. My mother was convinced for years that my joints hurt because I didn't eat enough (well, that's what she thought when she believed my joints hurt at all). But you do expect doctors to be a little less ignorant, don't you? Of course you do. That's their job. To be knowledgeable about diseases. If I wanted the opinion that I could get from Joe Bloggs down the pub, I'd go to Joe Bloggs down the pub. But I don't. I want a professional opinion by someone who has undergone extensive education. So why can't they offer us anything more useful than "You don't weigh right"?
It is worth mentioning that my rheumatologist is pretty good and has never suggested that I don't actually have anything wrong with me or that it'd all be fixed if I weighed a little more or a little less or a little more sideways; but there are enough out there that will and it's simply unacceptable.
Another doctor musing I have is that Doctors should not blog unless they're going to blog something medically and scientifically useful. I've seen really good MD blogs. Dr. Rob at Musings of a Distractible Mind tells us (patients) what to do and expect at the doctor's office, and tells them (doctors) how best to treat patients. He shows us the other side of the coin and helps us to understand and be better patients. How positively delightful! How useful! How instantly bookmarked!
However, whilst I was perusing blogs earlier this afternoon I did come across a thoroughly disappointing MD blog. It was, really, a personal blog, but advertised as an MD blog. Were it an essay, it would begin with "This blog aims to explore the various medical stuff a doctor comes into contact with..." However, it turns out just to be some disturbingly self-indulgent ramblings from a very unhappy person. That's the sort of blog that I would run a mile from at the best of times, but as a doctor it just seems to be... stupid. If one of his patients stumbled upon that blog, I don't think any of them would ever make another appointment with him. I'm not naming any URLs here, for obvious reasons, but not least because there are probably numbers of these blogs scattered hither and thither throughout cyberspace. He is not unique. I'm not suggesting that doctors shouldn't have personal blogs, or that some self-indulgent rambling is a bad thing... But it should be fairly anonymous if your profession is caring for people. One cannot choose to turn on and off MD status; as soon as MD status is lost, it can never be regained with those people who witnessed the lapse.
*I've got to say that I was only told that by someone who always regretted not studying medicine and who likes to try to make sense of her lack of MD-status. Or PhD status. Or MSc status. Really, she can't have wanted it too badly...
AS Results
I'm currently in two minds as to whether I 'like' AS-Levels.
Certainly, being able to take English Literature for a year and then drop it without giving it a second glance was a learning experience. I learnt that I can't stand English Literature.
Of course, if we just took our three A-Levels straight off, as in the old days, I would never have looked at English Literature and would not have had to go through the painful five hours per week of futile discussion and mind numbing analysis. (Frayn ends this paragraph with an exclamation, to show that Stephen is feeling aggravated and excited... Are you seriously going to grade me on this?)
Certainly, it is nice to have grades to guide us to our university choices, and certainly it is useful to get half the A-level done and out of the way in one fell swoop.
But is it really worth going through the torment that precedes the results envelope twice over? And is it worth the deflated feeling that swiftly follows the elation of good results? (Ohmy, straight As! Isn't this wonderful! Isn't this mar- TERRIBLE! What am I going to do next year?!)
Maths - 258 of a maximum 300 - Grade A
Chemistry - 244 of a maximum 300 - Grade A
Biology - 238 of a maximum 300 - Grade B
English Literature - 227 of a maximum 300 - Grade B
It is worth mentioning that the grade boundary for an A grade is 240 marks. Once again, the elation and happiness I felt at getting As in Maths and Chemistry vanished as soon as I realised I was a mere two marks away from a third A in Biology.
The important thing is, at this point, that my top choice of university, York, requests ABB in Biology, Chemistry and Physics/Maths.
I believe I am what they call "well in".
I have been roped in as a tutor for a certain friend who got 'Unclassified' in the same exam in which I dropped only four marks. Biology - Human Health and Disease. I love tutoring. This will be enjoyable, I hope.
So, do I 'like' AS-Levels?
Yes, overall, I think I do. Mainly because - and this is important - they work out well for me.
AABB
Certainly, being able to take English Literature for a year and then drop it without giving it a second glance was a learning experience. I learnt that I can't stand English Literature.
Of course, if we just took our three A-Levels straight off, as in the old days, I would never have looked at English Literature and would not have had to go through the painful five hours per week of futile discussion and mind numbing analysis. (Frayn ends this paragraph with an exclamation, to show that Stephen is feeling aggravated and excited... Are you seriously going to grade me on this?)
Certainly, it is nice to have grades to guide us to our university choices, and certainly it is useful to get half the A-level done and out of the way in one fell swoop.
But is it really worth going through the torment that precedes the results envelope twice over? And is it worth the deflated feeling that swiftly follows the elation of good results? (Ohmy, straight As! Isn't this wonderful! Isn't this mar- TERRIBLE! What am I going to do next year?!)
Maths - 258 of a maximum 300 - Grade A
Chemistry - 244 of a maximum 300 - Grade A
Biology - 238 of a maximum 300 - Grade B
English Literature - 227 of a maximum 300 - Grade B
It is worth mentioning that the grade boundary for an A grade is 240 marks. Once again, the elation and happiness I felt at getting As in Maths and Chemistry vanished as soon as I realised I was a mere two marks away from a third A in Biology.
The important thing is, at this point, that my top choice of university, York, requests ABB in Biology, Chemistry and Physics/Maths.
I believe I am what they call "well in".
I have been roped in as a tutor for a certain friend who got 'Unclassified' in the same exam in which I dropped only four marks. Biology - Human Health and Disease. I love tutoring. This will be enjoyable, I hope.
So, do I 'like' AS-Levels?
Yes, overall, I think I do. Mainly because - and this is important - they work out well for me.
AABB
14/08/2008
Why Julian Hathaway?
Why not Matilda, Elizabeth, Chloe, Porsche, Jennifer, Mark, Leslie, Jack, Rob, Bob, Bert, Valerie or Kschidt?
Why not Schneider, Dee, Smith, White, Marlow, Thomas, Barker, le Carré, Shakespeare, Winchester or Pierce?
Why not Honoria Glossop or Bertram Wooster?
Why not Georgina Kirrin?
Why not Biffy or Bingo or Tuppy?
Why not Darrell Rivers?
Why not Victoria Spice?
Julian is a masculine name, yet has no masculine conotations. Julian is middle-class and soft, without being quite as silly as the related "Jolyon". Julian is the name of the boy I would have loved in my childhood confidanté.
Hathaway is both hard and soft. The 'th' sound is both vicious - think of a snake's hiss - and sweet - think of a child's lisp. The "wayy-ay-ay-ay" end lingers... Like a sour aftertaste and a stolen kiss.
Every ingredient is present to betray my affectation without forcing it upon you and advertising itself as an almost worryingly thought-out extension of myself.
Why not Schneider, Dee, Smith, White, Marlow, Thomas, Barker, le Carré, Shakespeare, Winchester or Pierce?
Why not Honoria Glossop or Bertram Wooster?
Why not Georgina Kirrin?
Why not Biffy or Bingo or Tuppy?
Why not Darrell Rivers?
Why not Victoria Spice?
Julian is a masculine name, yet has no masculine conotations. Julian is middle-class and soft, without being quite as silly as the related "Jolyon". Julian is the name of the boy I would have loved in my childhood confidanté.
Hathaway is both hard and soft. The 'th' sound is both vicious - think of a snake's hiss - and sweet - think of a child's lisp. The "wayy-ay-ay-ay" end lingers... Like a sour aftertaste and a stolen kiss.
Every ingredient is present to betray my affectation without forcing it upon you and advertising itself as an almost worryingly thought-out extension of myself.
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