Nothing to see here...
Hail,
Tried to post some stuff before and it has vanished into the ether. Sorry about that.
Well, lots been going on including a Significant Event which I will talk about later once I've got a few things clear in my mind.
I went to see my boss today about my hours. They are nothing like as bad as people (i.e.: doctors) say they are, they are absolutely nothing like as bad as they were ten, fifteen years ago, but they are starting to grind me down a bit.
Hogarth House is half-time, and half time means nine to five, thirty eight hour fortnights, no problems at all. Nineteen hours a week.
Florey, on the other hand, is meant to be half time. But it's actually slightly more, comes out to about twenty hours a week plus four hours of Tuesday tutes plus two hours a week primary tutes ... that's about forty five hours a week. Plus the truth is no-one ever gets out on time, it's an absolute minimum half hour overtime each shift and usually closer to an hour, so that pushes it closer to almost fifty hours a week, plus (allegedly) study. It's not fifty, but it's not that far off.
And the thing is the shifts...
By the way, I remember reading about a woman who placed an advertisement in the phoe sex section of the newspaper or wherever that said "Hear me moan!". And people who called were treated to a tape recording of her complaining about how her husband never did any work around the house. I found this disarmingly amusing and now the phrase has entered our family lexicon. So, "hear me moan" about my job.
Anyhow... the shifts have been a bit nasty lately. We are desperate, and desperate people do desperate things. One of the desperate things they do is ring you up at short notice to ask if you'll do a shift: "Hi, it's Janey at reception. Pippi's come down with the scruples and Maad's rung in with fulminant proctitis, and the new RMO's been kept back after school. So could you please please pretty please come in tonight?
This is why some people at Shipton used to start drinking when they got home - because you can't work if you're intoxicated.
Anyway, remarkable insight and wit is sparse on the ground at the moment. The moods remain a bit substandard, but I suspect this is not something intrinsic, more a reactive end of winter thing. We shall see.
Thanks for listening.
John
Tried to post some stuff before and it has vanished into the ether. Sorry about that.
Well, lots been going on including a Significant Event which I will talk about later once I've got a few things clear in my mind.
I went to see my boss today about my hours. They are nothing like as bad as people (i.e.: doctors) say they are, they are absolutely nothing like as bad as they were ten, fifteen years ago, but they are starting to grind me down a bit.
Hogarth House is half-time, and half time means nine to five, thirty eight hour fortnights, no problems at all. Nineteen hours a week.
Florey, on the other hand, is meant to be half time. But it's actually slightly more, comes out to about twenty hours a week plus four hours of Tuesday tutes plus two hours a week primary tutes ... that's about forty five hours a week. Plus the truth is no-one ever gets out on time, it's an absolute minimum half hour overtime each shift and usually closer to an hour, so that pushes it closer to almost fifty hours a week, plus (allegedly) study. It's not fifty, but it's not that far off.
And the thing is the shifts...
By the way, I remember reading about a woman who placed an advertisement in the phoe sex section of the newspaper or wherever that said "Hear me moan!". And people who called were treated to a tape recording of her complaining about how her husband never did any work around the house. I found this disarmingly amusing and now the phrase has entered our family lexicon. So, "hear me moan" about my job.
Anyhow... the shifts have been a bit nasty lately. We are desperate, and desperate people do desperate things. One of the desperate things they do is ring you up at short notice to ask if you'll do a shift: "Hi, it's Janey at reception. Pippi's come down with the scruples and Maad's rung in with fulminant proctitis, and the new RMO's been kept back after school. So could you please please pretty please come in tonight?
This is why some people at Shipton used to start drinking when they got home - because you can't work if you're intoxicated.
Anyway, remarkable insight and wit is sparse on the ground at the moment. The moods remain a bit substandard, but I suspect this is not something intrinsic, more a reactive end of winter thing. We shall see.
Thanks for listening.
John
posted by Bronze John at 1:34 AM
1 Comments:
Ah! Out here in the 9-5 world (General Practice or Family Practice as it is called in the Western Hemisphere)...
(Actually 8:30 to about 6pm but only 4 days a week)
In internship (the first year immediately after graduating from Madical school) I did a rotation called surgical nights. Covering 150 post surgical patients (IV lines, drug orders, DVT PE, heart attacks etc...*) It was 8pm to 9am for 7 days, then 7 days off (which was nice, but only after sleeping for 2 days straight***). Luckily waiting until 9am meant I missed the worst of peak hour.**** But I wouldn't have wanted to meet me after any of those nights.
Cheers
Benny XVI
* No surgical patient died on my nights**
** Quite a few Medical ones did, and some of the surgical ones were nice enough to wait until day time.
*** Hail to Saint Oxazepam
**** Alright the peak 15 minutes here in South Western Nurn
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