Today is the first day of my last set of night shifts
as an F1, in fact my last few days as an F1 ever! This makes me more thrilled than I can possibly say, if I weren't so weighed down with F1 Fatigue that my emotional range has been narrowed from 'apathetic' all the way to 'slightly morose.' Aww. Poor, poor me. It's ok though, because I have completed my last normal F1 day, which was one of the worst days ever and ended in one of my patients having a stroke and being sent to ITU while the ITU consultant explained he would have to be intubated and aggressively ventilated if he was going to stand any chance of surviving, while I cried pathetically.
BUT IT'S ALL OVER! The end of about 2 weeks of coming to work scared and leaving work scared and generally being scared, which was described by me as "my two weeks of hell" and by the surgeons as, "character-building." All I can add is that surgeons must have some pretty intense character architecture going on if they consider that kind of mental and emotional annihilation as 'building'.
On a more positive note
last weekend I visited Ruth, Kirsty and Liz in London, which was lovely and wonderful and delicious and all sorts of good things. We mooched around London, and had tea, and discussed the difficulties of clothes shopping, and Kirsty and I went back to hers and talked until 3am, and then I couldn't get up in the morning. True story.
And then afterwards I went to Wahaca. Yay!
Kirsty and I were talking about how whenever we go to Convent garden, we always feel the urge to go into Cyber Candy, though it is always inevitably slightly disappointing, as we imagine it will be like the sweet shop in the Giraffe, the Pelly and me, and it never is. I have the same sort of thing with Wahaca - I always have to go whenever I'm in Convent Garden, no matter how much food I may or may not have consumed prior to this, or my eating plans immediately afterwards - except Wahaca is never a disappointment. Wahaca is just always a beautiful beautiful Mexican experience that makes me wish I was in Mexico, and could afford more than one mojito at a time. Which in Mexico, I can!
Yet another reason to move to Mexico.
In other news
I also realise I forgot to update that Tim and I went to Ireland! (at least, I think I forgot to mention it. Perhaps I have just forgotten that I had not forgotten to mention it. In which case....actually I have no solution to that. You're just going to have to read about it again.)
Tim and I went to Ireland. The end.
Ireland was so beautiful and so green and delicious and exactly like how I had imagined it, but more so, more green and friendly and beautiful and spectacular and all the coastline and all the rest of it, we kept turning to each other and saying, "how is this possible? How can something this beautiful be happening?" Like any good solipist I cannot believe that all this beauty is happening in the world while I am not there to experience it into existence, and it makes me happy to think of all these wonders of nature quietly going about their daily being without the need for me or any other human being.
Anyway, here are some pictures to brighten all your hearts.
The first two are actually not of Ireland (ha, how I love to mess with your minds) but of South Shields, where Tim and I went for a celebration fish and chips on one of the few sunny days we had this year. We really wanted to have fish and chips at Colman's for the last time before we left, because we started our year in Newcastle with fish and chips at Colman's, and as the year was drawing to a close, we wanted to acknowledge the delicious wonderfulness of Northern fish'n'chips. And very ethically sourced too!
The day was perfect and calm and still.
And the fish 'n' chips were the best we'd ever eaten. Colman's does the best fish 'n' chips in the world. Fact.
I love Ireland. Green land, blue sea, an endless expanse of sky and crumbling castle. Perfect!
And of course, the obligatory Guinness.
What has been cheering me up:
Kirsty introduced me to Wendy's Lookbook. She rocks a romper suit like no one else I know. I remember when I was very small (8 or 9) I was all, "I despise fashion! Fashion is stupid!", except even back then I was kind of interested in fashion but pretending not to. I suppose because I associate fashion with frothy foolishness and I did not want to be that kind of person. But now I am aged and wise, I realise that 1) everyone needs a bit of frothy foolishness in their life and 2) I EMBRACE FASHION. It is a form of beautiful escapism and like any form of popular art everyone gets snobbish about it but at the end of the day, I just want to watch someone wearing a pair of harem pants with a giant leopard print top, and that's all I need to feel better about the world. Briefly, before I make the mistake of going on BBC news to discover yet another gunman has let loose in the USA. Then I have to quickly watch Wendy tell me how to pair coloured jeans with stripey blazers before I fall back into a pit of despair at humanity.
anyway, Kirsty and I pranced around her room wearing sock buns on our heads and playing with our hair for ages and that was all good and wonderful. Sadly I have no photos because I forgot to bring my camera and Kirsty...well I don't know what happened with Kirsty's camera, but in conclusion, we were cameraless but bunheaded, and all was well with the world.
To Kirsty Smith
I showed Tim that video where Wendy is all, "And you can wear your bun on the side of your head. Like Princess Leia's cousin..." and at this point Tim said, "Princess Beia!" at the exact moment that Wendy said it. I have only 2 explanations for this shocking series of events.
1) Tim is a secret devotee of Wendy's Lookbook.
2) Tim is Wendy.
Despite the overwhelming evidence, Tim denied both explanations, saying only that "it was a logical thing to say next!" A logical thing to say next? I rest my case.
Also, remember "Years of expensive education"? (another oft used phrase that has fallen into disfavour.) When I was having my last meeting with my consultant, who is a sort of caricature of the very posh English surgeon approx circa 1957, he said, apropos of nothing,
Consultant: "Where did you go to school?"
Me: "Bristol."
Con: "Was it a girls' school?"
Me: (surprised) "Er...well yes."
Con: (approvingly) "I thought so. I can always tell when someone's had an expensive education. Good schooling always shows. Manners. Anyone can see you went to a proper school."
Years of expensive education! Back with a vengeance.
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