The apres-ski

Guys!

We love New Zealand!

And we have internet. And a flat! And we had a million free lunches. AND WE WENT SKIING!!!111

I'm sorry. Let's just go back to the beginning.

On Tuesday we landed in Palmy.

On Thursday we bumped into two other UK doctors.

Us: "Hi!"

Them: "Hi! How are you? Want to go skiing tomorrow?"

Us: "....yes????"

Them: "Sweet!"

So we went skiing.

Sorry, I said I'd start from the beginning.

Backtrack to Thursday morning.

Tim and I made our budget.

 Tim: “Yes, we have a bit of a cash flow situation so if we just budget very carefully and not buy anything that we have not budgeted for then we should probably be ok until we get our first paycheque.”

Me: “Ok!”

Then we met the doctors from the UK.
Then we walked past an exciting shop selling ski stuff.

Tim: “Let’s just go into this shop and see how much skiing stuff costs. Just out of curiosity.”

(10 minutes later, standing outside the shop with 4 bags full of clothes.)

Tim: “Well…that was unexpected.”

Me: “I cannot believe we blew our budget within an hour of making it.”

Tim: “This isn’t blowing the budget. This is an investment.”

Ok so let's talk about the stuff that wasn't skiing.

So we landed in NZ on Monday. 

We were so, so jet-lagged. 

Just for the information of anyone who might be pondering coming out here, which should be all of you because it's so awesome, NZ is exactly like Flight of the Conchords. But better (bitter!) So that laid our worst fears to rest (that it might be in any way not exactly like Flight of the Conchords.)

On Tuesday we caught the bus to Palmy. 

We got phones, bank accounts, sorted internet, got a flat. 

Let me tell you about our flat!

Our flat has a sunny balcony, it is fully furnished including linen and towels and crockery – including a rolling pin and cupcake tin, and best of all, it has not just one but two lemon trees (“Yiss, just help yourself to a lemon whenever you like, eh?”) and a herb garden and a lawn (“For if you want to have a barbie or a picnic, eh?”) and blackout curtains in the bedroom, and the biggest flat screen TV we’ve ever seen (“Yiss, the previous doctors liked to stream their uk tv onto this.”) And for > £100 a month less than what we were paying in the UK. So you should probably all come out and live here because it is awesome. And a large Domino’s pizza costs £3. So basically all your living needs sorted.

We were slightly disappointed not to get one of the many properties advertised with an intriguing “1x cat negotiable”, however.

Let me tell you about Wednesday.

On Wednesday we discovered that doctors eat for free in the canteen.

And what if the canteen is closed but you have to work (because doctors work so hard?)

Well, they make little packed lunches for you and put it in the ward fridges! 

Also, photocopying is free for doctors.

So we ate nachos and photocopied some stuff for shits and giggles. 

I know you're jealous of our life.

Thursday. I've already told you what happened on Thursday. 

Friday, we drove up to Turoa, 2 hours away and our nearest ski resort. And we moved into our flat. 

On Saturday we went skiing. That was amazing. Particularly the part where I started without knowing how to stop. But then I learned how to stop! So that was very positive.

On Sunday, we went skiing. Hurrah!

On Monday, I went to work, and I was in ski induced agony, which is a particular kind of agony where you cannot expect to get any sympathy from anyone because of the extreme first-world problem nature of the agony. But I was in agony and I could not walk up and down stairs at all which was an issue as an SHO.

Speaking of which.

So now I'm in year 2, I'm technically an SHO, which is a SENIOR house officer. There is no appreciable difference between the two, except that SHOs seem to get shouted at a tiny bit less than HOs, because we have apparently attained a degree more proximal to humanity and thus deserving of basic consideration. NZ have a pretty similar medical hierarchy to us, except they seem to group year 1 and year 2s both into the House Officer category, which literally devastated me. Was there no SENIOR house officer category?? Had I worked so hard FOR NOTHING??

Me: "Can I put SHO Han on everything now?"
Anne (HO): "Yeah why not."
Me: "Because I've waited a YEAR to put an S before my HO on everything
and I'm GOING TO DO IT."
Anne: "...ok, I'm sure that's going to be fine."
Me: "YES."

Back to Monday.

I am on a general surgery/ophthalmology run which means I get to do lots of eyes, which is awesome, so I have already been to eye theatres and seen someone suck out the inside of someone else's eye because they had a spontaneous expulsive haemorrhage of their left eye (if you would like to be truly grossed out, google pics that.) I got to scrub and help suck out all the eye bits, which was of course deeply fulfilling in every way.

Everyone is so super nice in the hospital and so amenable to doing their job, so unlike in the UK. Tuesday, I had to bleep the consultant haematologist.

Me: "Can we even bleep the consultant haematologist??"

Them: "Oh yeah. Well you got a haematology question, haven't you?"

Me: "Well, yes."

Them: "Then bleep them!"

Me: *visibly pales*

Them: "What's the matter?"

So this is what happened the last time I bleeped a consultant in the UK:

Me: "Oh hi! This is Connie, the surgical FY1. I need to talk to you urgently about one of your patients who has got *rare condition X* you are actively managing, who has come in with a perforated bowel and needs urgent surgery but has got both increased risk of clots and bleeding and the anaesthetist asked me to call you specifically. Do you have time to give me some advice over the phone?"

Consultant haematologist: *So shocked that an FY1 has spoken to them that they are completely silent*

Me: "...hello?"

Consultant: "Right...er...right...." *hangs up.*

This is what happened the last time I bleeped a SpR in the UK.

Me: "Hello! I am etc etc and I need some advice on a complex cardiology patient who has a number of risk factors including two previous heart attacks and 4 bypass operations who has been having atypical chest pain on and off over the last few days. Today he is having the same pain but with new ECG changes, deep T wave inversion in the lateral leads. He is high risk for another MI, as he has recently undergone surgery and is actively bleeding, as well as having a cardiac history, and because of his bleeding we have taken him off his cardiac medications, which promote bleeding. Can you please - "

Them: "Why are you calling me?"

Me: "To get some advice?"

Them: "Are you an idiot?"

Me: "Excuse me?"

Them: "Do you even have a medical degree?"

Me: "What is the problem?"

Them: "*Five minutes of solid abuse regarding my general idiocy, how I probably can't even read an ECG, and how they think I must be joking if I think they are going to give me any advice about this patient."

Me: "Fine! If you say this patient has zero chance of having a cardiac cause for their chest pain and ECG changes, then I will document that and that's fine!"

Them: *grumble grumble grumble* "Well fax the ECG over but it's going to be a flipping waste of time and no I'm not going to tell you the fax number because that's not my job. Put your number on it why don't you, even though I'm not going to call you back because this is a waste of time."

(This is not an exaggeration.)

I fax the ECG over and have a good rant to the nurses about how awful this person is.

5 minutes later my phone rings.

Them: "Oh! Hello. It's the Cardiology SpR here. Yeah I had a look at the ECG. Looks like he's having a heart attack."

Me: "AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGH WHY DID YOU TELL ME I WAS AN IDIOT THEN YOU FUCKWIT" 

Actually, I wish I said that. What I said was:

Me: "Oh, right. You changed your mind."

Them: "Tell me the story again, because I wasn't listening the first time because you were so boring."

Me: "!!! Do you talk like this to everyone?"

Them: "If you were more interesting maybe I'd care more."

So that was what happened the last time I spoke to a senior in the UK.

This is what happened when I spoke to a consultant in NZ:

Me: "Hello! I'm Connie, the surgical SHO...I just needed some advice about a patient. Are you free to talk?"

Them: "Of course!"

Me: "*Lays out problem.*

Them: "*Solves problem.*"

Me: "Thank you!"

Them: "Not a problem! Bye!"

Why is this so FLIPPING HARD IN THE UK?

Interestingly, all the doctors who are known to be 'really nasty' (total - one) in the hospital....are originally from the UK.

Oh, NHS.

We're at Wednesday.

Today! And you're up to date!

We are getting familiar with Palmerston North as well, which is the kind of blowsy small town that Instagram was made for, all quiet open roads, friendly locals who all know each other and the postman and his (or her) cat, wooden buildings with porches and lace curtains at all the windows.

It’s been great settling in slowly and getting used to the NZ pace (slow) and general friendliness (despite the influx of UK doctors we are still an exotic novelty) and the feeling that lifestyle is all important here – you’re not your work, you’re your social activities. Several of the doctors from last year are staying on (“forever!” Me: “Er, how do your family feel about this?” Aimee: “I haven’t told my sister yet. She’s a crier.”) It’s certainly very seductive. Maybe it’s all the free lunches. 

Come and visit!