This is a blog about ‘how not to hit a golf ball… and other things I’m learning.’
People talk about the learning curve that is internship year – the steep exponential curve of the first six months. I remember exhaustion, uncertainties, frustrations and feeling so, so inept. Stupid things I did. The madness of my first weekend shift. Most of all I remember the security of having colleagues I could trust – nurses, clerical and allied health staff, and more experienced doctors – who helped me find my feet and not screw things up too badly.
I was lucky enough to have the first five months in my home hospital. Starting a stressful new career was made so much easier by not just the familiarity of my surroundings, but by having The Girl there by my side every step of the way. Making me coffee every morning, and dinner every night. Amazing, wonderful love and support. None of ‘all this’ could or would have happened without her.
Which brings me to something I’m still learning, which I can’t really wrap up into a neat set of words. It’s something about family. I’m just writing and deleting words from this paragraph, none of which really make sense, so I’ll leave it there and hope that something coherent unfolds at some point in the future of this post or this blog as a whole.
My grandmother died suddenly in February this year, in my father’s arms, a few weeks short of her 90th birthday. I spent some time with her in December, and I’m so glad I did. She had a wicked sense of humour. I wish I’d written more about her.
I was late to the funeral. I expect I will be late to my own.
That’s enough for now.