“You need to keep your readers happy.”
“No I don’t.” Anyway, “I am writing. My assignments.”
“You haven’t posted anything for ages.”
“Why write when you can help other people to write? Their experiences and ideas are so rich. More worth reading than mine.”
But I have a thing for writing something to remember each term by.
End of term
On my last week I wrote my first hospital incident report for a head & neck cancer patient as a parting gift for TB unit (who actually did their part well). There were lots of big holes in that swiss cheese but fortunately they didn’t line up.
Other than that it’s mostly frivolous amusement.
The guy at work who wore Mon :( to Fri :) socks. He sometimes wore socks that didn’t match the day of the week to be an anarchist.
I played dress up with the reg next door on multiple occasions since nurses mixed us up anyway. Ah, so adult.
Long-ish lunches (but not as long as med student days) with my friend who I never thought I’d work with again after internship.
Who gave this to me
“Never used a condom in my life.” Man in 50s. Positive for both gonorrhoea and chlamydia.
First episode of genital herpes. Over ten partners across Cambodia, Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia… etc whilst backpacking in the last three months. “Who gave this to me?!” he said, indignant.
Going through notes for an audit. Male patient “mistakenly slept with a lady boy but only realised in am.”
In all seriousness, I like sexual health. People are immensely grateful. Having a flat affect can be an asset in alleviating anxieties. Most conditions, at least the physical aspect of the problem, are curable. Even the most chaotic HIV patients see the value of antiretrovirals.
The pink flamingo was there. Then it wasn’t, walking past the next morning. I thought I was imagining things. It took me awhile to notice the gardener with a fluorescent vest. Working up a sweat to his radio tune. An iced bottle of water close at hand.
“When I signed up for the job I told them I need a budget for these. How else can I make my garden beautiful?” He took the birds and bunnies out every morning, and back into the storeroom every afternoon. Some days there was even a peacock.
“See that curlew there?” he said, pointing to the brooding female. “Sometimes he leaves her and stands next to this pink flamingo.”
Tidying up our monstrously overgrown tropical courtyard so that it could be used as a walkway again (instead of our alternative – the toilet). Trimming up the side branches so that the shrub didn’t scratch up our cars anymore. I think he did his work with more passion and dedication than any of us.