You know the phrase "if it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck" etc? Sometimes things can be totally bleeding obvious to everyone else but not to you. (Hmmm, is that denial?)
Just worked out why I have been having migraines for the past couple of weeks. I'm pregnant. Now, everything makes perfect sense. I should've known really as had last migraine whilst pregnant with DT and absolutely none since. Plus, I have been completely knackered for the past couple of weeks; I just put that down to a cold/starting new job/going to gym (which I have just signed up for a whole year with, wonderful!)
When I told my friend Sal she just smiled and said "thought so!". What a fantastic doctor I am. Although must say, in my own defence that I was taking the little pills so wasn't entirely expecting it!
Myself and Mr O are quite pleased, if still a little shell-shocked....
Monday, 27 October 2008
Thursday, 23 October 2008
Credit crunch....
When I am not trick cycling or chasing around after the Duracell Toddler, I have another role - that of bookkeeper for my husband's business. Now unfortunately, when we decided to set up the business at the end of last year there wasn't a credit crunch....and until a couple of months ago it was all going rather well. Then the bank decided to increase the rates on the small business loan it has given us and the much larger companies which owe us money have started to take longer and longer to pay us. Not good. Now instead of waiting nearly 60 days for payment from them (they are supposed to pay us within 30) it is now becoming 90 days plus. In order to pay our staff this means that all of our accounts including our personal ones are now fully overdrawn and I am now having to use my savings which weren't huge in the first place. Just read in the Times that the amount of small businesses going under has increased from 40 to 280 a week and on average they are owed £30,000 by larger businesses. Now that the government have bailed out the banks there is a clause that they are supposed to reinvest in small businesses - but apparently our local bank manager doesn't know anything about it and they're not willing to be flexible with us! Bastards....
A couple of months ago I was really enjoying being part of the business and was even thinking that if I went part-time I might become more involved in it or even set up my own enterprise. Frightening how unstable everything is when you start going into recession. Ah well, at least I have a reasonably stable job at the moment, although I think my chance of going part-time in the near future is lessening rapidly!
On a cheerier note at least fuel prices are coming down and I am spending less money on things we don't really need. As they say - money doesn't buy you happiness, although an extreme lack of it doesn't help much either! The happiest family I ever met were struggling to bring up 3 children on one teacher's salary, they used to live in a small house with an old car, the kids didn't have many toys and all their clothes were hand-me-downs or from cheap shops. At the weekends because of the lack of cash they would go off to the park and run round, play ball games and spend lots of time together. Because they couldn't have lots of things the kids were the least spoilt I have ever come across and absolutely great! When I think of them I wish my hubby had my job (as more stable one)....think then I would just give up work, take DT out of nursery, sell a car and have a simpler life. Don't think I'll persuade the hubby to do the same somehow!
A couple of months ago I was really enjoying being part of the business and was even thinking that if I went part-time I might become more involved in it or even set up my own enterprise. Frightening how unstable everything is when you start going into recession. Ah well, at least I have a reasonably stable job at the moment, although I think my chance of going part-time in the near future is lessening rapidly!
On a cheerier note at least fuel prices are coming down and I am spending less money on things we don't really need. As they say - money doesn't buy you happiness, although an extreme lack of it doesn't help much either! The happiest family I ever met were struggling to bring up 3 children on one teacher's salary, they used to live in a small house with an old car, the kids didn't have many toys and all their clothes were hand-me-downs or from cheap shops. At the weekends because of the lack of cash they would go off to the park and run round, play ball games and spend lots of time together. Because they couldn't have lots of things the kids were the least spoilt I have ever come across and absolutely great! When I think of them I wish my hubby had my job (as more stable one)....think then I would just give up work, take DT out of nursery, sell a car and have a simpler life. Don't think I'll persuade the hubby to do the same somehow!
Friday, 17 October 2008
Tachycardia
I have just been to the gym for the first time in nearly 2 years and I feel bloody brilliant now!
I used to go a couple of times a week until rapidly expanding pregnant belly put a stop to that. Then the small child put a stop to gym attendance through absolute exhaustion on my part and being just a wee bit busy. I did go to baby yoga a few times, not what you'd call taxing....and also walked around with the pram a bit, usually to somewhere with cake and coffee. Unlike every other mother, I actually gained weight a few weeks after having DT. Then I got packed off to work 40 miles away and in addition to the fact that I have never been that keen on sport/exercise, there was no way I was going to go on getting home 12 hours later having not seen my son all day. Did attempt the Davina vids a couple of times but have a rather small lounge so nearly took out light fittings swinging my arms around and kept crashing into the furniture and terrifying the cat!!!!
Now with starting a local job - I have NO excuse to improve my fitness. Signed up to semi-trendy gym with good NHS discount and have resolved to go at least twice a week (that'll become once by Christmas, mark my words). Completely aware that I looked like a sack of potatoes on the machines but I stayed and I now feel MUCH MUCH better in myself!
Always telling my patients that exercise helps mood (it affects your Serotonin levels blah, blah) and do know that that is true, but I have never felt the effects of it as much as today. I feel so much more relaxed. Even looking forward to going back beacause the gym has a nice sauna bit and a coffee shop with cakes! (now, whose clever idea was that?)
I'm going again tomorrow! And I'm going to book in for a back massage 'cos they're always great. Maybe I will become a gym fanatic!!!! OK, maybe not.......but hey, it's a start!
I used to go a couple of times a week until rapidly expanding pregnant belly put a stop to that. Then the small child put a stop to gym attendance through absolute exhaustion on my part and being just a wee bit busy. I did go to baby yoga a few times, not what you'd call taxing....and also walked around with the pram a bit, usually to somewhere with cake and coffee. Unlike every other mother, I actually gained weight a few weeks after having DT. Then I got packed off to work 40 miles away and in addition to the fact that I have never been that keen on sport/exercise, there was no way I was going to go on getting home 12 hours later having not seen my son all day. Did attempt the Davina vids a couple of times but have a rather small lounge so nearly took out light fittings swinging my arms around and kept crashing into the furniture and terrifying the cat!!!!
Now with starting a local job - I have NO excuse to improve my fitness. Signed up to semi-trendy gym with good NHS discount and have resolved to go at least twice a week (that'll become once by Christmas, mark my words). Completely aware that I looked like a sack of potatoes on the machines but I stayed and I now feel MUCH MUCH better in myself!
Always telling my patients that exercise helps mood (it affects your Serotonin levels blah, blah) and do know that that is true, but I have never felt the effects of it as much as today. I feel so much more relaxed. Even looking forward to going back beacause the gym has a nice sauna bit and a coffee shop with cakes! (now, whose clever idea was that?)
I'm going again tomorrow! And I'm going to book in for a back massage 'cos they're always great. Maybe I will become a gym fanatic!!!! OK, maybe not.......but hey, it's a start!
Thursday, 16 October 2008
A pain in the.....
Wow. So much has happened in the last few weeks within the O household and I have been constantly 'fire-fighting' - as they like to say in busy mental health teams nowadays. Normal service will be resumed soon. I hope.
Firstly, have moved jobs. Now not doing the commuting (which is great) but back in the situation again of being the 'new doctor'. Always a bit strange as I find mental health teams are often quite wary of you and you have to spend a fair bit of time convincing them that you're not a complete idiot and not going to act like you own the place because you have a medical degree. On that theme, once or twice in the past I have had a really great job where everyone thought I was wonderful, unfortunately not entirely on my own merits. In reality it was because the junior doctor before me had been so rude to the team that as long as I turned up on time, was friendly to them and did my job I was fantastic!
Unfortunately this time, the previous SpR was pretty nice so no easy ride on that front....
Also means that I have new consultant - he seems pretty nice although don't think I will end up having the random chats about running, cars, rugby etc that I used to have with my old consultant or get to moan to him about my awful mother-in-law. Maybe that's just as well.
The hardest bit in a new post is knowing what you are supposed to be doing. Life used to be simple in medical wards - 8.45am ward round, 10am blood taking/venflons/drug card rewriting, 11 patient reviews, etc...now I am working in an assertive outreach team. These teams deal with patients in the community who are severely mentally ill often with psychotic illnesses and have been poorly compliant with prescribed treatment and/or have engaged poorly with services. Many of the patients are socially isolated and have other health issues/drug and alcohol issues. The aim of the team is to maintain frequent contact in order to provide effective treatment and rehabiliation for this group of patients. The team is multidisciplinary - nurses, social workers, occupational therapists, psychologists and doctors. Everyone apart from the doctors and psychologist work in split shifts.
Being a doctor in the team is an odd position because you are part of the team, yet separate in many ways due to your additional commitments - outpatient clinic, inpatient ward rounds, on call etc. The rest of the staff are with the team for the entirety of their shift. I always find it hard settling in. Already I am being asked to spend large parts of my day doing visits and whilst I have no problem doing this at all,( in fact I really like it) it is hard to say "yes, that's fine but I need to be back by 2 for the ward round". I certainly don't want to appear that I'm being a bit precious!
Secondly, the father is still very very ill. Has now had kidney removed but still very poorly. A couple of weeks ago the doctors made worrying noises and hinted that they thought that he had developed a severe infection and weren't sure how he would cope with it. So we watch and wait. It may seem like I'm being cold by spending so much time talking about work and not about this. It's just much harder to talk about this and when I think about it I get upset.
I have been getting some cracking migraines this last couple of weeks and am sure that it is my way of coping/or not with Dad's illness. Twice I have ended up with severe headaches, vomiting, unable to speak or think clearly with flashing lights.....lovely. I have had these before but usually only once every few years and with clear triggers - high blood pressure in pregnancy set off the last one. Have had 3 in 10 days - lasting a LOT longer and making me feel pretty rotten for half a day after. It's the not being able to talk/understand things that scares the living daylights out of me - expressive/receptive dysphasia for those in the know.... even though I know it's a migraine, it is so scary when I can't think clearly. For how do you think if not in words?
Ah well. At least when I have a headache and DT is getting too much I can do what it says on the side of the paracetamol bottle, "take two and keep away from children"!
Firstly, have moved jobs. Now not doing the commuting (which is great) but back in the situation again of being the 'new doctor'. Always a bit strange as I find mental health teams are often quite wary of you and you have to spend a fair bit of time convincing them that you're not a complete idiot and not going to act like you own the place because you have a medical degree. On that theme, once or twice in the past I have had a really great job where everyone thought I was wonderful, unfortunately not entirely on my own merits. In reality it was because the junior doctor before me had been so rude to the team that as long as I turned up on time, was friendly to them and did my job I was fantastic!
Unfortunately this time, the previous SpR was pretty nice so no easy ride on that front....
Also means that I have new consultant - he seems pretty nice although don't think I will end up having the random chats about running, cars, rugby etc that I used to have with my old consultant or get to moan to him about my awful mother-in-law. Maybe that's just as well.
The hardest bit in a new post is knowing what you are supposed to be doing. Life used to be simple in medical wards - 8.45am ward round, 10am blood taking/venflons/drug card rewriting, 11 patient reviews, etc...now I am working in an assertive outreach team. These teams deal with patients in the community who are severely mentally ill often with psychotic illnesses and have been poorly compliant with prescribed treatment and/or have engaged poorly with services. Many of the patients are socially isolated and have other health issues/drug and alcohol issues. The aim of the team is to maintain frequent contact in order to provide effective treatment and rehabiliation for this group of patients. The team is multidisciplinary - nurses, social workers, occupational therapists, psychologists and doctors. Everyone apart from the doctors and psychologist work in split shifts.
Being a doctor in the team is an odd position because you are part of the team, yet separate in many ways due to your additional commitments - outpatient clinic, inpatient ward rounds, on call etc. The rest of the staff are with the team for the entirety of their shift. I always find it hard settling in. Already I am being asked to spend large parts of my day doing visits and whilst I have no problem doing this at all,( in fact I really like it) it is hard to say "yes, that's fine but I need to be back by 2 for the ward round". I certainly don't want to appear that I'm being a bit precious!
Secondly, the father is still very very ill. Has now had kidney removed but still very poorly. A couple of weeks ago the doctors made worrying noises and hinted that they thought that he had developed a severe infection and weren't sure how he would cope with it. So we watch and wait. It may seem like I'm being cold by spending so much time talking about work and not about this. It's just much harder to talk about this and when I think about it I get upset.
I have been getting some cracking migraines this last couple of weeks and am sure that it is my way of coping/or not with Dad's illness. Twice I have ended up with severe headaches, vomiting, unable to speak or think clearly with flashing lights.....lovely. I have had these before but usually only once every few years and with clear triggers - high blood pressure in pregnancy set off the last one. Have had 3 in 10 days - lasting a LOT longer and making me feel pretty rotten for half a day after. It's the not being able to talk/understand things that scares the living daylights out of me - expressive/receptive dysphasia for those in the know.... even though I know it's a migraine, it is so scary when I can't think clearly. For how do you think if not in words?
Ah well. At least when I have a headache and DT is getting too much I can do what it says on the side of the paracetamol bottle, "take two and keep away from children"!
Monday, 22 September 2008
Viva la blog!
I apologise for neglecting my blog of late - I have been pretty distracted the last couple of weeks....
A wise man once said:-
He who would travel happily must travel light.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
He's obviously flown with Ryanair then. Did get to go on mini-break last week. After some last minute web-searching managed to wangle us a cheapo apart-hotel in Portugal. Started booking what looked like reasonably cheap Ryanair flights (including taxes) before discovering that we had to pay extra:
- to check in at the desk (it's free to do online but you can't do that if you have an infant)
- to check in luggage (yeah, like we're going to manage just with hand luggage anymore - DT has more stuff than us by far!!!!)
- to board earlier (ooh, none of that disabled people and people with small kids on this airline)
so overall a fair bit more in extra fees for 2 adults and 1 infant to check in, take 1 hold bag each, 1 travel cot and board early. Cripes. When did life get so complicated?
Flight was busy, busy, busy but on time. After the whole bloomin' rigmarole of opening and tasting the baby jars to prove that the Hipp Organix Spaghetti Carbonara wasn't actually plastic explosive, we were finally allowed to board the plane. DT was already annoyed having been carried up and down stairs for 20 minutes and not allowed to run around and play with all the things on the conveyor belts at the airport. To add insult to injury mummy and daddy were not going to let him climb all over the seats and run up and down the aisle. DT informed the plane of his irritation by screaming at the top of his voice for about 25 mins. Fabulous. So now I am the parent of the badly behaved toddler you always try to avoid being stuck next to on a bus/plane/train - how embarrassing!
A wise man once said:-
He who would travel happily must travel light.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
He's obviously flown with Ryanair then. Did get to go on mini-break last week. After some last minute web-searching managed to wangle us a cheapo apart-hotel in Portugal. Started booking what looked like reasonably cheap Ryanair flights (including taxes) before discovering that we had to pay extra:
- to check in at the desk (it's free to do online but you can't do that if you have an infant)
- to check in luggage (yeah, like we're going to manage just with hand luggage anymore - DT has more stuff than us by far!!!!)
- to board earlier (ooh, none of that disabled people and people with small kids on this airline)
so overall a fair bit more in extra fees for 2 adults and 1 infant to check in, take 1 hold bag each, 1 travel cot and board early. Cripes. When did life get so complicated?
Flight was busy, busy, busy but on time. After the whole bloomin' rigmarole of opening and tasting the baby jars to prove that the Hipp Organix Spaghetti Carbonara wasn't actually plastic explosive, we were finally allowed to board the plane. DT was already annoyed having been carried up and down stairs for 20 minutes and not allowed to run around and play with all the things on the conveyor belts at the airport. To add insult to injury mummy and daddy were not going to let him climb all over the seats and run up and down the aisle. DT informed the plane of his irritation by screaming at the top of his voice for about 25 mins. Fabulous. So now I am the parent of the badly behaved toddler you always try to avoid being stuck next to on a bus/plane/train - how embarrassing!
Back to work and one of my inpatients is not happy with me for having had time off. She was in a particularly bad mood the day I got back having had a disagreement with one of my colleagues.
I usually get on quite well with her but this day got "you doctors are always having time off, us taxpayers pay your wages you know!". She was obviously feeling aggrieved that I hadn't asked her permission before going! I didn't really know what to say to that.
Do you think that if I tried to negotiate my leave with my patients (after first asking my consultant and arranging cover with my colleagues) I would ever have a holiday again??
Saturday, 13 September 2008
The wanderer returns...
Just after I'd finished writing the last post I'd decided to find the local council's phone number to see if the street cleaners had found a dead cat....and guess who walked in? Well, ran straight to his bowl and munched the entire lot down to be exact. He's lost his collar and bell and has a small cut on his head but nothing serious!
After I nearly cried and gave him a big cuddle - I just got his usual disdainful look but I don't care! I'm so pleased he's back.
After I nearly cried and gave him a big cuddle - I just got his usual disdainful look but I don't care! I'm so pleased he's back.
At least it's not Monday!
It's been a bloody awful week. My father who has always been rather hypochondriacal and anxious about his health for years was rushed to hospital the other day after something rather odd happened to one of his kidneys. He woke up suddenly with a fever and severe pain on the left side of his abdomen and decided (sensibly) not to wait and see what would happen. After a bit of prodding and poking he was told he probably had a kidney stone, given some pain relief and sent home, only to end up back in about 12 hours later when the pain got worse. It turns out that he has actually had a 'renal infarction' or for the non-medical among you, a piece of his kidney has died. Just like that.
When I went to see Dad initially he'd had morphine so was feeling nicely 'floaty' but also very justified in a 'see, I knew something was wrong with me' kind of way. Hmmm. Decided not to argue with that one - except my father for years has thought that every headache or twinge of pain is a sign that he is seriously unwell and is not being diagnosed properly by his poor local GP.
Now, the problem is that the cause for this is a bit of a mystery. Often people who have these infarcts have a history of previous clots somewhere causing such things as heart attacks or have risk factors for clots such as atrial fibrillation - a condition where the heart beats fast and erratically. Dad doesn't have any of these things, or not so the medical team have discovered as yet. They have however, discovered some other problems on his scan which they suspect may be a kidney tumour. Cripes.
Further problem, the medical team haven't told him their concerns, they've told me in passing - as I'm a doctor! Great. So now I am in the position of not knowing whether or not to say anything to Dad. If I do, he'll probably become very panicky and upset and I might cause him unnecessary worry. But the other part of me thinks the medical team should have talked to him first, not me and that he should know what the current concerns are. At the moment I'm procrastinating, hoping that todays scan will be clearer and maybe, if I'm honest, that the medical team will do the job for me.
On top of all that - my big tomcat Oedipus has gone missing!!! He has never stayed out overnight in the 3 years we've had him and has now been gone for 3 nights. Came back from seeing Dad and at the end of the 120 mile drive was greeted with the news by Mr O. Have gone round to all of the neighbours, told the cat protection mob/RSPCA but no sightings as yet. Now Oedipus is the nosiest cat in the world and has been into everyone's houses and most of their cars, outhouses etc. Regulary climbs inside tradesmen's vans too. So - he could be skittled on a road somewhere, locked in a garage or halfway to Aberdeen! I've told the Duracell Toddler that Oedipus has gone on holiday to Africa to see his cousins the lions. He liked that idea.
Supposed to be going for a mini-break to Spain in 4 days, what is the likelihood of that happening?
Think I shall return to singing ABBA and go into denial -"Waterloo....."
When I went to see Dad initially he'd had morphine so was feeling nicely 'floaty' but also very justified in a 'see, I knew something was wrong with me' kind of way. Hmmm. Decided not to argue with that one - except my father for years has thought that every headache or twinge of pain is a sign that he is seriously unwell and is not being diagnosed properly by his poor local GP.
Now, the problem is that the cause for this is a bit of a mystery. Often people who have these infarcts have a history of previous clots somewhere causing such things as heart attacks or have risk factors for clots such as atrial fibrillation - a condition where the heart beats fast and erratically. Dad doesn't have any of these things, or not so the medical team have discovered as yet. They have however, discovered some other problems on his scan which they suspect may be a kidney tumour. Cripes.
Further problem, the medical team haven't told him their concerns, they've told me in passing - as I'm a doctor! Great. So now I am in the position of not knowing whether or not to say anything to Dad. If I do, he'll probably become very panicky and upset and I might cause him unnecessary worry. But the other part of me thinks the medical team should have talked to him first, not me and that he should know what the current concerns are. At the moment I'm procrastinating, hoping that todays scan will be clearer and maybe, if I'm honest, that the medical team will do the job for me.
On top of all that - my big tomcat Oedipus has gone missing!!! He has never stayed out overnight in the 3 years we've had him and has now been gone for 3 nights. Came back from seeing Dad and at the end of the 120 mile drive was greeted with the news by Mr O. Have gone round to all of the neighbours, told the cat protection mob/RSPCA but no sightings as yet. Now Oedipus is the nosiest cat in the world and has been into everyone's houses and most of their cars, outhouses etc. Regulary climbs inside tradesmen's vans too. So - he could be skittled on a road somewhere, locked in a garage or halfway to Aberdeen! I've told the Duracell Toddler that Oedipus has gone on holiday to Africa to see his cousins the lions. He liked that idea.
Supposed to be going for a mini-break to Spain in 4 days, what is the likelihood of that happening?
Think I shall return to singing ABBA and go into denial -"Waterloo....."
Tuesday, 2 September 2008
Mamma Mia! (No educational value to post - be warned!)
ABBA....showing what a great invention and how easily recycled aluminium foil is.
Wandered around hospital today happily humming, whistling and singing a variety of ABBA classics after FINALLY going to see the film Mamma Mia! last night. Mr O had threatened divorce if I made him go see it so had to cajole not-entirely-convinced female friend of the merits of 70's Swedish music.
It was fantastic and I loved it. Not exactly the best plot I've ever come across but the beautiful scenery, the lovely sunshine, and the wonderful cast more than compensated and overall it was great fun! I would've got up and danced except I'm pretty sure my friend Helena, a rather serious journalist type would have abandoned me....
Blimey, that Meryl can hold a tune. Only bit I'm not sure about was Pierce Brosnan's singing, especially in SOS. Will let you judge!
Anyway there I was this afternoon strolling down the hospital corridor humming the second verse of Voulez-vous (probably a bit too loudly on reflection) when one of my inpatients - a rather dour man with schizophrenia who is currently quite unwell passed me. "Bloody hell love" he muttered, "I thought I was the one that needed the psychiatric help. Maybe you need the tablets more than I do!"
Everyone's a critic....
Monday, 1 September 2008
Psychiatrist vs human being
Following my 'honesty is the best policy?' post I had an interesting comment which set me thinking. Now I know this is over-generalising a lot, but blogs on here relating to mental health in some way are often either:-
a) mental health workers talking mainly about work/patients/service users (delete as appropriate) but not about their lives outside work
or
b) people with mental health issues/illnesses some of whom do talk predominantly about mental health stuff, some who talk about all sorts of things in their life. (Although I imagine that many might say the two are not just overlapping but entirely intertwined?)
Now my thoughts are this. I don't see myself as a psychiatrist/doctor/mental health worker primarily, I see myself as an average person with a life and family who just happens to be a doctor/psychiatrist etc. I have good and bad days, feel excited or lonely etc. A comment to my post from in-the-margins was 'But I thought everyone that worked in mental health had their lives all sorted and were completely mentally healthy!' Now, I believe I am mentally pretty healthy but I certainly don't think my life sorted! In fact, not very sorted at all lots of the time....
Now interestingly, whilst other doctors in fields other than psychiatry post blogs that discuss social lives /girlfriends/personal issues as well as medicine, I've noticed the mental health workers don't tend to. Whilst I believe those boundaries should certainly be maintained professionally at work and in our therapeutic relationships with patients, does that have to hold true here?
Whilst I do see the value in just discussing work/mental health issues on here, personally I see this as an opportunity to discuss lots of issues both at work and in my 'other' life. What do people think about that? Maybe by talking about more than just our day job it might make me/us as a group more real....is that a bad thing?
Would appreciate any thoughts on this!
a) mental health workers talking mainly about work/patients/service users (delete as appropriate) but not about their lives outside work
or
b) people with mental health issues/illnesses some of whom do talk predominantly about mental health stuff, some who talk about all sorts of things in their life. (Although I imagine that many might say the two are not just overlapping but entirely intertwined?)
Now my thoughts are this. I don't see myself as a psychiatrist/doctor/mental health worker primarily, I see myself as an average person with a life and family who just happens to be a doctor/psychiatrist etc. I have good and bad days, feel excited or lonely etc. A comment to my post from in-the-margins was 'But I thought everyone that worked in mental health had their lives all sorted and were completely mentally healthy!' Now, I believe I am mentally pretty healthy but I certainly don't think my life sorted! In fact, not very sorted at all lots of the time....
Now interestingly, whilst other doctors in fields other than psychiatry post blogs that discuss social lives /girlfriends/personal issues as well as medicine, I've noticed the mental health workers don't tend to. Whilst I believe those boundaries should certainly be maintained professionally at work and in our therapeutic relationships with patients, does that have to hold true here?
Whilst I do see the value in just discussing work/mental health issues on here, personally I see this as an opportunity to discuss lots of issues both at work and in my 'other' life. What do people think about that? Maybe by talking about more than just our day job it might make me/us as a group more real....is that a bad thing?
Would appreciate any thoughts on this!
Sunday, 31 August 2008
Saturday, 30 August 2008
Honesty is the best policy?
Today I had one of those 'lightbulb' moments regarding this blog. I couldn't quite understand why I was wanting to write on here - I'm not a great writer or wordsmith and struggle to make any sense at times. I'm a chatty person, so why am I doing this?
I think the point is I'm actually feeling a bit lonely and lost at the moment. Over the last few years for a number of reasons I've managed to become more and more cut off from my old friends and now I'm not quite sure where I fit in. It started with going overseas to work for a few years, everyone else stayed behind and of course, moved on with their lives. When I returned we were still good friends but I couldn't just move back and carry on where we'd left off. Unfortunately, they had other friends/boyfriends they now did that with and I had Mr O and lived 30 miles away, not around the corner. I have made some friends here, but mostly through work and not sure that's always a good thing - always lots of politics involved or just discussing work when we're supposed to be out relaxing. I really miss my old friends, we still meet up and that's lovely, but I miss the closeness we once had.
Other thing is the job. I really like psychiatry but I'm finding it really hard to work out where my niche is within it. I always saw myself eventually working in a district hospital, with some inpatient work and some outpatient/community mental health team work. Unfortunately for me, the system is changing so that many consultants end up doing either all inpatient or all outpatient work. Both those options sound quite dull, it was the variety I liked the idea of.
I'm sure a big factor in my current negative mindset is that I'm presently working full time (plus on calls) and commuting 40 miles each way to work most days. This was never a problem BC (before children), but now means I only see the duracell toddler for extremely short periods in the week - about an hour in evenings before he goes to bed. Mr O is brilliant with sorting him out and getting him to/from nursery but this doesn't make me feel like a very good or nice mummy. Would like to be home a bit more with DT. Unfortunately I have always been the major breadwinner and part time work has not been an option for us as yet. I'm holding out for October when I change post and will be much closer to home - I'm sure everything will seem much rosier then!
There you go, this is working as therapy....I think just writing this down has brightened me up a bit and is making me think about what I can do about some of these things rather than just feeling unhappy with them. So much easier to sort out other people's issues, ridiculous eh?
I think the point is I'm actually feeling a bit lonely and lost at the moment. Over the last few years for a number of reasons I've managed to become more and more cut off from my old friends and now I'm not quite sure where I fit in. It started with going overseas to work for a few years, everyone else stayed behind and of course, moved on with their lives. When I returned we were still good friends but I couldn't just move back and carry on where we'd left off. Unfortunately, they had other friends/boyfriends they now did that with and I had Mr O and lived 30 miles away, not around the corner. I have made some friends here, but mostly through work and not sure that's always a good thing - always lots of politics involved or just discussing work when we're supposed to be out relaxing. I really miss my old friends, we still meet up and that's lovely, but I miss the closeness we once had.
Other thing is the job. I really like psychiatry but I'm finding it really hard to work out where my niche is within it. I always saw myself eventually working in a district hospital, with some inpatient work and some outpatient/community mental health team work. Unfortunately for me, the system is changing so that many consultants end up doing either all inpatient or all outpatient work. Both those options sound quite dull, it was the variety I liked the idea of.
I'm sure a big factor in my current negative mindset is that I'm presently working full time (plus on calls) and commuting 40 miles each way to work most days. This was never a problem BC (before children), but now means I only see the duracell toddler for extremely short periods in the week - about an hour in evenings before he goes to bed. Mr O is brilliant with sorting him out and getting him to/from nursery but this doesn't make me feel like a very good or nice mummy. Would like to be home a bit more with DT. Unfortunately I have always been the major breadwinner and part time work has not been an option for us as yet. I'm holding out for October when I change post and will be much closer to home - I'm sure everything will seem much rosier then!
There you go, this is working as therapy....I think just writing this down has brightened me up a bit and is making me think about what I can do about some of these things rather than just feeling unhappy with them. So much easier to sort out other people's issues, ridiculous eh?
Tuesday, 26 August 2008
dearest mother....
I always know when my mother has been to stay for a few days.
Firstly, I can't find everyday useful things that she has helpfully put away for me in utterly random places. Then there are the tissues. My mother thinks it is vitally important that she carry a clean tissue tucked in her sleeve at all times however they then fall out and end up scattered all around my house. Then there are the 'healthy' things I find lost at the back of the fridge such as cucumber, celery and watercress. I don't know whether the story that you use more calories eating them than you get from them is true, but I hope so. At least if they make dieters happy these bland items may be justified in some way. Fridges in my opinion should be reserved for nice things such as butter, cream, chocolate and beer.
After a visit from mum I do feel a bit exhausted. My mother and I have always got along reasonably well but after a few days we do start grating on each other's nerves. Now, I think this is pretty normal and probably because we're actually quite alike. Personally, I've always thought that those "we're best friends" mother-and-daughter types are completely nauseating.
Luckily, my mother isn't preachy on how we should bring up the duracell toddler (DT) but does like to repeatedly mention in a 'I'm just concerned for your health way', my fondness for takeaways at weekends, my weight and how great I looked when I was slimmer. She usually refers to an old photo of me taken at school at age 16, where I'm about a stone lighter with a very dodgy perm (it was the late 80's). Nowadays I admit I'm a little overweight but the way she talks you'd think that I was going to have to book two plane seats on our next holiday.
Other than these minor flaws, of which I know I have even more, my mother is pretty great really. I have always known she loves me and is there for me when I need her.
There are certain mothers, however, whom i'm sure we've all met who are just mean to their poor and often undeserving offspring. I'm always glad they're not my mother and it makes me feel very lucky. A lady I saw a few days ago illustrated this beautifully; Mrs L was a little, hunched-over frail-looking old lady, who walked with a stick. Appearances can be extremely deceptive. Following a life-long pattern of being rather angry and unpleasant towards her husband and only child, the early stages of a dementing illness had not improved her personality. Despite lots of support from home care, her daughter and friends, this lady was often angry and this was usually directed towards her daughter. She would often beat her long-suffering daughter with her walking stick, swearing at her and saying that her daughter was neglecting her. Recently this had increased so much that her daughter was worried about visiting her and was covered in bruises. Immediately after assaulting her daughter, Mrs L would be contrite and say how sorry she was, begging her daughter not to go. Mrs L had consistently stated that she wanted to stay living at home and refused to consider any other housing options such as sheltered housing or a residential home.
During my meeting with Mrs L she generally answered my questions in a quiet manner, often referring to her daughter to support her responses. However, halfway through our chat Mrs L's whole demeanour altered abruptly. She shouted her daughter's name so sharply and viciously that I jumped several inches off my chair. This was followed by a long series of expletives. The venom in her voice was remarkable. I felt so sorry for her daughter. She was doing everything she could to help her mother but was constantly being derided and abused. I couldn't help thinking that if it was me, I don't think I would've been so supportive.
My mother sometimes asks me if I will care for her in her old age. By this she means 'come and live with us'. Sounds pretty scary to me. I tell her half-joking, that she'll have to play her cards right. But I think that as long as I build her a granny flat, lock my cupboards, eat celery and attach a hanky to her wrist with elastic we should be absolutely fine.....
Firstly, I can't find everyday useful things that she has helpfully put away for me in utterly random places. Then there are the tissues. My mother thinks it is vitally important that she carry a clean tissue tucked in her sleeve at all times however they then fall out and end up scattered all around my house. Then there are the 'healthy' things I find lost at the back of the fridge such as cucumber, celery and watercress. I don't know whether the story that you use more calories eating them than you get from them is true, but I hope so. At least if they make dieters happy these bland items may be justified in some way. Fridges in my opinion should be reserved for nice things such as butter, cream, chocolate and beer.
After a visit from mum I do feel a bit exhausted. My mother and I have always got along reasonably well but after a few days we do start grating on each other's nerves. Now, I think this is pretty normal and probably because we're actually quite alike. Personally, I've always thought that those "we're best friends" mother-and-daughter types are completely nauseating.
Luckily, my mother isn't preachy on how we should bring up the duracell toddler (DT) but does like to repeatedly mention in a 'I'm just concerned for your health way', my fondness for takeaways at weekends, my weight and how great I looked when I was slimmer. She usually refers to an old photo of me taken at school at age 16, where I'm about a stone lighter with a very dodgy perm (it was the late 80's). Nowadays I admit I'm a little overweight but the way she talks you'd think that I was going to have to book two plane seats on our next holiday.
Other than these minor flaws, of which I know I have even more, my mother is pretty great really. I have always known she loves me and is there for me when I need her.
There are certain mothers, however, whom i'm sure we've all met who are just mean to their poor and often undeserving offspring. I'm always glad they're not my mother and it makes me feel very lucky. A lady I saw a few days ago illustrated this beautifully; Mrs L was a little, hunched-over frail-looking old lady, who walked with a stick. Appearances can be extremely deceptive. Following a life-long pattern of being rather angry and unpleasant towards her husband and only child, the early stages of a dementing illness had not improved her personality. Despite lots of support from home care, her daughter and friends, this lady was often angry and this was usually directed towards her daughter. She would often beat her long-suffering daughter with her walking stick, swearing at her and saying that her daughter was neglecting her. Recently this had increased so much that her daughter was worried about visiting her and was covered in bruises. Immediately after assaulting her daughter, Mrs L would be contrite and say how sorry she was, begging her daughter not to go. Mrs L had consistently stated that she wanted to stay living at home and refused to consider any other housing options such as sheltered housing or a residential home.
During my meeting with Mrs L she generally answered my questions in a quiet manner, often referring to her daughter to support her responses. However, halfway through our chat Mrs L's whole demeanour altered abruptly. She shouted her daughter's name so sharply and viciously that I jumped several inches off my chair. This was followed by a long series of expletives. The venom in her voice was remarkable. I felt so sorry for her daughter. She was doing everything she could to help her mother but was constantly being derided and abused. I couldn't help thinking that if it was me, I don't think I would've been so supportive.
My mother sometimes asks me if I will care for her in her old age. By this she means 'come and live with us'. Sounds pretty scary to me. I tell her half-joking, that she'll have to play her cards right. But I think that as long as I build her a granny flat, lock my cupboards, eat celery and attach a hanky to her wrist with elastic we should be absolutely fine.....
Thursday, 21 August 2008
Patients say the funniest things....
Embarrassed Chimp,originally uploaded by Greencolander
I was doing well today. The sun was shining and I left the house for the first time this week without being covered in little flecks of Weetabix flung randomly by the Duracell toddler. I was feeling pretty smart and thought I looked pretty good wearing my new jacket. I made the early train with time to spare so managed to sit down looking reasonably cool and collected holding a latte, as opposed to my usual windswept appearance after running and jumping on as the doors are closing. I had time to buy a copy of The Big Issue from the ridiculously cheerful homeless chap who nearly always shouts a cheery 'hello!' at me as I rush past. I was given the nice airy clinic room by the clerk as opposed to the tiny one that smells of feet on a dry day and wet cat on a wet day. I saw my patients who all seemed to be doing reasonably well, their medication was helping them, the work we were doing was helpful etc - all was good. I was pleased. Very pleased. Self-confidence was at a high.
On the way out of my clinic I bumped into a previous patient that I hadn't seen for some time. When I had last seen T he was an inpatient in a community learning disability unit. He was admitted due to his psychotic symptoms and had a history of arson when unwell.
T had remained in the unit for a number of months longer than was necessary after his mental state improved, due to the problems in finding him an appropriate place to live. Despite this prolonged stay, he had generally been a cheery kind of chap with a ruddy-faced appearance, nicotine stained fingers and a long black beard. I knew that he had had a tendency in the past to say extremely untactful, sometimes slightly inappropriate things to others but I had always got on well with him and hadn't experienced anything like that. He used to talk to me about his favourite football team and would tell me all about their most recent match. Although I often didn't know much about his team, I would ask him questions about the game and he would delight in telling me the details of the players, the fouls, the fights and the goals of course.
When he saw me today he hurled himself across the waiting room shouting my name and nearly bowling over a grumpy-looking secretary, her arms full of medical notes. She scowled at him but he carried on, totally oblivious shouting "Doctor, doctor!" I stopped and he launched into his news. After excitedly telling me details of his new shared accommodation, the signings made by his football club and his predictions for the season he suddenly stopped and peered at me closely for a few seconds. It was just getting to a point when I was about to ask him what he was looking at when he took a deep breath and said "do you know you have a bit of a moustache?". This was followed promptly by "it was OK to tell you that wasn't it? I just thought you ought to know".
I went an interesting shade of deep red and told him that it was fine. Outside, it started to drizzle with rain....
Wednesday, 20 August 2008
Not waving but drowning...
Firstly, on behalf of the bewildered I feel I ought to clarify that I am not a whiz at doing wheelies on a small bike designed for adolescent boys. No, 'trick cyclist' is in fact slang terminology for a psychiatrist. Far less exciting than BMX riding I know. I think it's highly unlikely that you will be seeing videos of me doing a 180 barspin, followed by a funky chicken (real BMX bike tricks, I am reliably informed) on this webpage at any time soon. I recently purchased an ordinary road bike and had enough trouble working out how to change gear, never mind anything else.
No, instead I have decided that due to current job of listening to other people all day in my career, I need the chance to vent my spleen at someone myself. Guess what, you're it! Aren't you lucky? The good thing is (for you) that you can leave at any time and I can just jabber on to myself.
Only one slight problem I currently foresee, I am pretty bloomin' hopeless when it comes to technology. It's taken me nearly a week to:-
a)understand what a blog actually is after someone told me about them
b)work out how to find them on the internet then register for one
c)choose a name, then a template, add a photo on the site and type this in.
Basically, if I don't get any quicker, I'll be older and probably more withered than Methuselah before I even get to the weekend. I'm hoping I've done the hardest part...
Anyway, I live in a small town 'oop north'. It's a nice place, up-market with lots of arty and cultural events happening and populated by rather a high percentage of posh, yummy-type mummies, their almost inevitably rich (and older) husbands and their delightful and usually gorgeous offspring with their often 'unusual' names. I hope the O family are a little more grounded than some of the 'yummies' as I like to call them, more about them another time!
I have a husband, originally from down under, who is rather keen on his cricket, golf and rugby so most weekends he is off doing one or the other, depending on the season. I just don't get it, especially cricket - how can a game that slow possibly be called sport? I think it was Robin Williams who once described it as 'baseball on valium'. Then there is the Duracell toddler, self-explanatory I think! (Note: other long-life battery brands are available....)
I qualified from medical school and did a few posts in medicine, surgery and accident and emergency before settling down in Psychiatry. After spending some time working overseas for a bit of 'life experience' as my mother liked to call it, 'doing less work with more time in the sun' I called it, I settled back to work in the UK. After paying an unfeasibly large amount of money to the Royal College of Psychiatrists I finally passed my membership exams , was awarded more letters to put behind my name and then promptly got pregnant. To be fair it wasn't really the best timing as the Government in it's wisdom was about to shake up junior doctors training, and what a palaver that was! However, after attending my job interview whilst 5 months pregnant wearing some huge Bridget Jones-style knickers I got my higher training post and all (so far) has worked out for the best.
So here I am, trick cycling my way through life....most of the time I really enjoy it and feel I am helping people, even though it is sometimes a slow process. Hey, it could be worse, I could be an appallingly bad BMX biker.
No, instead I have decided that due to current job of listening to other people all day in my career, I need the chance to vent my spleen at someone myself. Guess what, you're it! Aren't you lucky? The good thing is (for you) that you can leave at any time and I can just jabber on to myself.
Only one slight problem I currently foresee, I am pretty bloomin' hopeless when it comes to technology. It's taken me nearly a week to:-
a)understand what a blog actually is after someone told me about them
b)work out how to find them on the internet then register for one
c)choose a name, then a template, add a photo on the site and type this in.
Basically, if I don't get any quicker, I'll be older and probably more withered than Methuselah before I even get to the weekend. I'm hoping I've done the hardest part...
Anyway, I live in a small town 'oop north'. It's a nice place, up-market with lots of arty and cultural events happening and populated by rather a high percentage of posh, yummy-type mummies, their almost inevitably rich (and older) husbands and their delightful and usually gorgeous offspring with their often 'unusual' names. I hope the O family are a little more grounded than some of the 'yummies' as I like to call them, more about them another time!
I have a husband, originally from down under, who is rather keen on his cricket, golf and rugby so most weekends he is off doing one or the other, depending on the season. I just don't get it, especially cricket - how can a game that slow possibly be called sport? I think it was Robin Williams who once described it as 'baseball on valium'. Then there is the Duracell toddler, self-explanatory I think! (Note: other long-life battery brands are available....)
I qualified from medical school and did a few posts in medicine, surgery and accident and emergency before settling down in Psychiatry. After spending some time working overseas for a bit of 'life experience' as my mother liked to call it, 'doing less work with more time in the sun' I called it, I settled back to work in the UK. After paying an unfeasibly large amount of money to the Royal College of Psychiatrists I finally passed my membership exams , was awarded more letters to put behind my name and then promptly got pregnant. To be fair it wasn't really the best timing as the Government in it's wisdom was about to shake up junior doctors training, and what a palaver that was! However, after attending my job interview whilst 5 months pregnant wearing some huge Bridget Jones-style knickers I got my higher training post and all (so far) has worked out for the best.
So here I am, trick cycling my way through life....most of the time I really enjoy it and feel I am helping people, even though it is sometimes a slow process. Hey, it could be worse, I could be an appallingly bad BMX biker.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
