I graduated medical school at the University of Glasgow in June 2012, and then spent twelve months beginning to learn how to be a doctor. My entire personal development plan for FY1 was to 1) not die and 2) not kill people.
All junior doctors in the NHS are trained for their first two years in the Foundation Programme, which comes with a learning curve so steep it requires safety ropes and a buddy system. I kind of loved my FY1 year — I blame that on having been delirious from exhaustion and panic for almost all of it. I’ve spent my FY2 year doing more medicine, getting people to teach me about cancer, avoiding operating theatres, battling the MRCP, and, always, always, learning how to be a doctor.
And now, far too soon, for surely it’s only five minutes since I sat finals, I’m starting to think about life after. The kind of doctor I want to be and the road I want to take to get there.
I’m also a Scottish Episcopalian and I’ve been a member of St Mary’s Cathedral in Glasgow since I moved to Scotland in 2007. I popped in for one service… I am now there more often than the church mice, I am a member of the serving team (which fulfills any occasional urge I might have to run away and join the circus), I am an advocate for social justice within the Church, and I have a repertoire of tricks that one can do with a thurible. I tell interview panels that the accomplishment of which I am most proud outside of medicine is my involvement in the passage of equal marriage legislation in Scotland (and I am very). But the accomplishment of which I am actually most proud is my ability to thurible while walking backwards.
In the between times, I’m a choral singer with the City of Glasgow Chorus and have sung with them in places as near as Giffnock and as far as Krakow. I’m an intermittent distance runner and will be taking another crack at the half-marathon distance this autumn in the Great North Run. I’m a bookworm. I am an unapologetic caffeine addict — and when I say ‘unapologetic’, what I mean is ‘closely resembles grumpy zombie until caffeinated’.
I occasionally sleep.
I blog about all of these things.
The Legal Fine Print
As per Good Medical Practice 2013. All patient encounters referred to have been anonymised, fictionalised, and composited in order to preserve patient confidentiality. I do not intend anything I have written to be taken as medical advice, nor do I give medical advice over the Internet. I write under my own name and will provide my GMC number on request. I blog in a personal capacity and I do not presume to speak for any organisation that I work for or for anyone other than myself.