More ranting

Bad bad day at work.

It's a long story involving me, another doctor, the medics and a patient with an anterior communicating artery aneurysm. Was told this morning by one of the nurses that that I'd better flee the country cos that "another doctor" was going to shoot my ass.

Considering it's day 7 of my 11-day stretch of non-stop work, I was already losing the plot and I really didn't need this to spoil the rest of the day. Nonetheless, being the anti-conflict person that I am, it's still floating about in my mind and I'm dreading tomorrow, when I'll probably have to face the "show down".

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I had the feeling it wasn't going to be a good day. Took a cab to work (cos the underground doesn't open till 10am on Sundays, and my sleep is too important for me to commence the hour-long trek to work at 7am). The cab driver turned up in his shiny white VW Passat all in good time. I got in and the conversation went:

Him: "So, you're on your way to work?"
Me: "Yup."
(Silence for a while)

Him: "You're a doctor, or?" (wonder why he didn't complete the question)
Me: "Yup, I'm a doctor."

Normally, at this point, the conversation could go one of 3 ways:
a) He could start telling me about his aunt or uncle or cousin who was admitted to hospital last year with "double pneumonia" and contracted MRSA, which killed him.

b) He could just move on to some other topic like the sort of stuff one must see in an inner city emergency department, or even something not medically related.

c) He could start trying to "get some medical advice".

Well, today's cabby decided on the third option. Normally, I don't have issues with people asking me for random bits of advice (even though I often haven't a clue what caused their strange rash or spot or lump). But I was tired and wishing I was anywhere else apart from in a cab on the way to work on a sunny sunday. The last thing I wanted was for work to start even earlier... Needless to say, I obliged him with advice about his "frozen shoulder", which basically, he already knew anyway cos his GP had been dealing with it.

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When bombshells are dropped early in the morning, your day is inevitably affected. I'm referring to the potential conflict, not the cabby. Plodded on through the rest of the day and was just so glad when it was all over.

But alas, tomorrow is d-day. Plus, I still have 2 days of 9-and-a-half hour shifts and another 2 days of 12-hour shifts to survive before I get a day off. Can't wait for friday. Then I wish that Monday would never come. Starting nights on Monday:(

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I'm glad Mr Laptop is working again. Just telling the world (or nobody) about all my frustrations is therapeutic.

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On days like these, I can't help but toy with the idea of a career change. What can I do? Any suggestions?