Driving takes a lot more attention than I ever gave it credit for. Hats off to you drivers. Respectz. I didn't appreciate you enough.
The more that happens, the less time you have for blogging. Funny that. Since I was last here, I've been to an engagement party, a wedding, the last medic dinner of the year, and a concert in Hyde Park. I've stayed up past my bedtime TWICE in the last week and a half. In short, I've been living on the edge.
The engagement party was Richard and Naomi's, and they had cocktails beforehand in The House, which is a cocktail bar, and not their house as I assumed. Really, I wish places wouldn't give themselves newfangled names like this, it makes life so difficult, back in my day etc. Then we went to Gino's, which was amazingly delicious. Richard assured me that after midnight, Gino's pushes back the tables, and puts on music, and everyone has a little dance to the macarena. I did not believe this, but this is in fact what happened.
I had to upload this, for photographic proof. The macarena! In Gino's! Is nothing sacred? Back in my day, etc.
The next day, Saturday 25th, Tim and I went to my good friend Alison's wedding, in Bristol. The bride looked beautiful, the groom looked handsome, and a good time was had by all. We got driven home by a suicidally speedy taxi driver who yelled at one point at the car in front of us (in the dark, down a narrow street lined with cars, at quite a steep turn), "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I CANNOT GET OUT OF 2ND GEAR!" Trembled in the back and did not tell him that 2nd gear was my favourite gear and 22mph was my favourite speed (just faster than a speeding bike...slower than everything else.)
Back to lectures on Monday, Tuesday and finally, Wednesday - the last ever set of lectures, on the theme of Death, appropriately. The lecturer opened with "I don't want to scare you all, because being a junior doctor is good fun, but....", a line that's been used in pretty much every lecture recently. The sentence usually goes on to say that people will die/you may become an alcoholic/you have twice the risk of suicide of the average man on the street/you may misuse drugs/you will get bullied/you will make a mistake that will harm someone/you may make a mistake that will kill someone/you will be called to court/you will be referred to the GMC/you may be accused of assault when you accidentally brushed someone with your elbow/you will feel extremely depressed and unhappy ("but it's good fun too!")/you will feel out of your depth/you will panic/you will not know what to do/you will call for help and no help will come/your seniors will blame you for mistakes that are their fault and not yours/you will encounter sexism in the workplace/you will give the wrong drug to the wrong patient/they might die because of that/ and so on and so on and so forth.
All those wills staring me in the face were giving me the creeps. On the one hand, it is comforting to know that everyone makes these mistakes. On the other hand, it's frankly terrifying to know that everyone makes these mistakes, not only from a patient's perspective but, rather selfishly, from my perspective, having not yet begun, wondering when my first mistake is going to happen.
More pleasingly, after the lecture there was a bouncy castle and some good bouncing was had by all.
So as of Wednesday, 29th June, I am no longer a student! Officially, my student status lasts as long as my bod card, which runs out on the 31st July. 18 years of expensive education, and what have you got? No, I'm not sure either.
So to celebrate it all, I went out with my sister to see Beirut, Arcade Fire, and Mumsford and Sons in Hyde Park yesterday. It was a blazingly hot day, absolutely gorgeous. I felt very, very old as very, very young people danced all around me and got very excited about being at a gig. One guy turned to me and said, "I am EUPHORIC. They are the BEST BAND IN THE WORLD!" Had to smile, thinking of how I felt at my first gig. There is no better feeling, when you're full of energy and pep and know all the best songs, rather than full of seething resentment that you have to stand from 3:30-10:30pm. I'm joking! (Kind of - I think I'm just reaching the age now where Hay-on-Wye is the most raving festival I can aspire to.) It was wonderful though, and a very nice end to it all, so thank you Jennie for a beautiful day.
A million (*more like 60,000) people at Hyde Park!
Today Tim's gone home for paintballing and conducting (not both at once, though that would be pretty wonderful.) Before he left, he made me lunch, which was a splendid courgette and sausage pasta with lemon and thyme. If I had a good camera + good camera skillz, I would share its indescribable beauty with you all. As I don't, I'll just have to sit here, eating it with my fingers (because when you eat something with your fingers that really needs a fork, the calories don't count.) Before he served it up, Tim asked me to taste it and advise on if anything was missing.
Me: "I think it needs more garlic."
Tim: "I've already put two cloves of garlic in."
Me: "I can't taste them."
Tim: "I can."
Our conversation reached an impasse here. I thought longingly of the time Kirsty and I made garlic mayonnaise that involved 3 cloves of garlic and one tablespoon of mayonnaise. Admittedly I did smell of garlic for hours, possibly days, afterwards, but I feel it was worth it. Tim had no comment to make.
NB. if you ever find yourself in the above situation, gargling desperately with diet coke does not help matters.
Ultimately Tim won and as I sat there eating my otherwise perfect pasta, I could see all the little bits of garlic flecked all over it. Two bowls later, I still can't taste it. A horrified thought struck me. Is it possible I've over-garlicked my taste-buds? That by consuming such a large amount of garlic consistently over such a long time, my brain no longer responds to normal human doses of garlic? Where one clove would have done, I now require three? Where the recipe calls for a tsp of garlic oil, I gleefully shove whole cloves in? Actually that's been going on for a long time now.
What have I become?
It's ok, I made up for it by eating an unreasonable portion of garlic bread instead.
Still can't truly believe I am leaving Oxford. But I have two weeks here to prepare myself.
peace out
Connie
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