a day late, a buck short?

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie.

From scratch. Pastry & all.

I feel so wholesome that I'm compelled to go out dancing in trashy bars with drunk doctors.

summer fun

When you have warm summer evenings, the smell of jasmine coming through the window and humidity-curled hair brushing at the nape of your neck, you know you're on vacation.

To fill your empty hours (and cos the strawberries are rotting in the box) you can make pie.















Of course, when you have the attention span of a five year old on red cordial, you may only make the pastry and the filling, then get distracted.

You will go across the street and steal DVDs from Ian. Come back and admire your toenails. Google "rhubarb poisoning" and think about the legal definition of "criminal intent". Stew the rest of the rhubarb. Realize that you only have enough pastry for a bottom crust. Realize that you've run out of flour. Give up, google Dashboard Confessional and listen to summer songs.



Toronto in summer is awesome. I'll never work here; there's too much else to do!
I'll finish the pie tomorrow.

summer fling!

I don't know what to tell you...

I've finished the PRP. (Pre-residency program, aka "teach Sam to speak Canadian"). I have a small, perfectly formed apartment. My hospital feels like home. I've met my bosses. I am excited to be a family doctor. I have new friends. I've found the good coffee spot and shamelessly hit on the proprietor.

It's been a busy 3 months. Aside from getting peed on by multiple infants, I have no recent medical stories. July first will be my first day as a (legal) Canadian doctor.

I'm going to lie in the sun listening to summer pop until then. Join me!

cupcake

Like most people, I love talking about sex.

There is something so compelling about the ins and outs (!) of human relationships. And this is why I love my job. I meet someone and immediately ask them to describe their most recent sins. I especially enjoy the matter-of-factness that the doctor's office allows.

Do you have sex with men, women or both?
Are you currently sexually active?
Do you have a monogamous relationship, casual partners or both?
Oral, anal, vaginal or other?

Just ticking the boxes Ma'am. All part of the job.

And the answers! I don't pretend to be a wildly experienced woman, but I do read a lot. My most depraved literature can't compete with the day to day transactions of love.

For example: My MtoF transgendered patient can't maintain erections (due to hormone therapy) and asked me for any suggestions on what to do. Her partner is pre-op MtoF trans and I had to ask exactly what components were on offer. And then think about it. And then google it. We came up with some ideas, and she'll report back. I hope.

Other fun sexy-times? Papping a pregnant lady. Diagnosing genital warts. Demonstrating correct condom usage techniques. Googling "poppers" and "bear clubs". Using the words "insertive" and "receptive" in daily conversation.

Don't get me wrong. I am not just a sex-obsessed prevert.

I also really enjoy baking.

Things I heard at work today...

- Bye ladies!
- Those aren't ladies, they're doctors.
- Oh. Bye doctors!

"Dress code? Um. It's a men's hostel, so don't wear anything that makes you look cute. Or anything that can't get barf on it."

"I tried to listen to his lungs, but then a bug crawled across his back, so..."

"When is it safe to have sex after having a baby? Well, a gentleman waits until the episiotomy is sewn."

"It's a good idea to build trust before sticking your hand in someone's vagina."

And so on and so forth.

Another exciting day in the life of...well...what ever I am.
Not a medical student, not yet a doctor. Legally anyways. Which means everytime my boss introduces me as Dr Marriage, and I don't correct him, I am committing a felony.

Anyways, we had obstetrics lectures with an amazing doctor today. She swore, she made inappropriate sex jokes, she told us she'd been kicked out of two different residencies before she found her calling in Family Med and was candid and blunt about how baby-catching both sucks and rocks.

I have a new hero.

mumsy

People often refer to specialties as having personalities. For example, at St V's, the surgeons were brusque, competitive and hyper-masculine. The medical folk were the intellectuals of the team. The ED physicians were the kid running around the back of the classroom after drinking too much red cordial.

I am noticing that different facets of my personality come out to play when I'm immersed in different specialties. Doing internal medicine (in the country) brought out my dispassionate, methodical scientist. I became pragmatic about prolonging suffering, and so convinced more than one patient that it was time to let go.

When I was on cardiac surgery, I behaved like a crazed femme fatale. Stalking about the ward in dresses and heels (when I wasn't in scrubs) I would flirt with my patients while telling them that there was no problem we couldn't handle. Atrial fibrillation? No worries. Chest pain? I can handle it. Cardiac arrest, opening the chest on the ward and hand pumping until we get to theatre? Doesn't faze me. I projected an aura of absolute confidence, wrapped in swishy silks. Then I would go home and cry.

Family medicine is bringing out a dangerous, unfamiliar side. My maternal side. I listen to my patients and I want to hug them. To feed them. To help them get their lives back on track. This is, surprisingly, a problem. My patients this week have been crack addicted felons, meth-heads who are high WHILE I'm talking to them and HIV+ guys who think bare-backing is ok as long as they come "outside". These are tricky people to help.

Still, there were some good moments. Showing a guy the latest cool condoms (courtesy of Trojan) and seeing him take a fistful home. Having my patient shake my hand and thank me for listening. Even the meth-head said, "This was a good day, doc..."*

I suppose that I was initially concerned with the ambiguity, or "soft" side of family med. I was worried that I'd stop being a doctor and turn into a mom. A big, softy. It turns out it's not that simple. Even when you're suppressing the urge to pat everyone on the head and call them "love".

* He followed this with "cos I had 3 women looking at my dick". I choose to only hear the first bit.

pro: tiny wiggly butts

Babies can have so many different rashes. The Resident and I spent a good portion of this afternoon comparing rashes and Australian/Canadian terms for rashes.

What she calls a cherry hemangioma, I call a strawberry haemangioma.
What she calls lace-like, I call reticular.
When I say "Mongolian blue spots" she shudders. Slate-blue naevus is the PC-approved term. I don't suppose the Mongolians would mind, but hey, this is Canada!

My new home/clinic specializes in LBGQT (?) patients, new immigrants, the homeless and tiny, tiny babies. I was at work for 9 hours today. I did not get paid. Will not, in fact, get paid for my next 6 weeks of service. But I had a great day.

I love my job. I love being at work. Even for no pay. Even though they introduce me as "the IMG sort-of doctor".

I had forgotten how much fun medicine can be. Dr G is back in the hizzouse.