The Doctor That Glasgow Built

This past weekend was the (mostly) completion of the closing down of five of the hospitals in this city and their transfer to a new hospital in South Glasgow that so far as I can tell mostly contains furlongs of corridors.

I exaggerate, I suppose. I’ve been in the new place just enough to have decided big and confusing, and I don’t work there really although doubtless I will at some point. I expect eventually I’ll adjust, and I expect eventually everyone will stop wandering around like a crossbreed between frightened rabbits and lost sheep. There is no question that the buildings that have closed are no longer fit for purpose, and have become increasingly even less fit for purpose over the past ten years as apathy and not-here-for-much-longer have set in.

But the days and nights I’ve spent in them are ones that have been the making of me as a doctor so far, and sentiment is a powerful thing.

Screen Shot 2015-06-08 at 16.26.33

If I could take a single memory from the old hospitals, it would be of standing at this window as one of the worst nights I’ve ever had finally ended; when, inexplicably and unexpectedly, the sun came up and everyone lived.

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One comment

  1. I remember wandering lost through Gartnavel once and coming up on a floor full of WARDS, like something from Charlie & the Chocolate Factory – rows of people in beds and no walls. California doesn’t have wards anymore in regular hospitals (though some old military facilities turned to other uses doubtless still do) so it was a shocker. I guess eventually it, too, will be lost like Western Infirmary – and I guess it’s really good for Govan to have something nice on that side of the river. Must be weird for you to get used to a new space – the pictures in the paper made it look really enormous!


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