- computers only blocked Facebook and proper dodge sites! It actually allowed Youtube, blogs, and stream sites, so um RandomC is probably floating around in a computer's history somewhere...
-it's a small hospital hence everything is a minute or two away- labs may be a bit off the beaten track, but at least I didn't have to climb 4 flights of stairs to use an ABG machine because the (only) ABG machine was right outside the ward.
-ok rent was decent. 200pounds a month and bills were like 5-20pounds a month? We had portable electric heaters in the bedrooms so things were nice and toasty at night. And even the later months when I left the heating overnight, the bill never went over 20. The house wasn't a complete shithole either.
-everything was in walking distance. House to hospital was 10mins tops, and the train station was literally behind the hospital. We had a relatively big Lidl next to the staff accommodation where I stayed, so that was a major plus.
-rotas being made by office goons who work 1-3pm on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and 9-11am on Fridays (ie have no fucking clue and have no qualms about giving you two back to back 12-day-straight shifts) but this problem is endemic in the NHS.
-mix an elderly crumblie population, unfilial children, scant social services, the odd lazy GP - recipe for the perfect heartsink day of bed crises filled with bearded old ladies who can't stand/can't eat/was wandering etc
|This needs a flipping colossal titan gif|
-office-hour labs and xrays that have an oncall system, meaning when you need bloods at 2pm, the decision on whether to call in labs is whether nice smiley lab guy is on call, or that grumpy old lab guy who lives 20 minutes away is on call. You do start asking if you REALLY need that midnight CRP or CXR, but unfortunately sometimes the answer is yes.
-weekends. Officially the worst types of shifts ever, because there are two doctors for the whole hospital, one on medical one on surgical. You do the ward round, jobs, A&E, and whenever the rehab ward starts feeling needy and starts calling you. Weekends were the worst. Worse than nights. You can apparently expect one person to manage a ward of 40 patients and see all 10 medical A&E attenders, it seems.
-bizarre use of resources. We have no ECHO, fine. Funny tests and cultures get sent to Glasgow, find. We've got a CT scanner, hooray! But, because ultrasound come in like, once a week, it is apparently better to CT carotid everyone with a TIA because lulz we can. We must have irradiated the necks of half of Caithness. Any thyroid enthusiast want to visit the place in 30 years?
-no Natwest. In fact Natwest is pretty shit in Scotland. There's only one branch in Aberdeen and none north of it, including Inverness. I had a few cheques to bank in and it was a major pain.
-the latitude. In August it seemed like it would never get dark, and the week before I left there was frost on the grass and the sun set by 3.30pm. I don't think I could ever get used to extreme latitudes. I grew up on the equator where there was one warm season all year and sunset at 7.30pm on the dot every day, and that's how I like it.
-there is pretty much nothing to do. There's like Weatherspoons, which we went to at least 10 times in 4 months. The nearest cinema was in Thurso. No shopping malls or anything. At least internet was stable, so I was actually a little productive for a change. The dead-ness of the town didn't bother me too much, but for the city slickers it was a death sentence.
There's supposed to be things to do and see, like an Orkney weekend, the Walligoe steps, Pulteney whiskey distillery, but I actually did nothing. In fact I never went further than Tesco, and this fact doesn't bother me at all. I do no regret not visiting Orkney or going for a whiskey tour (frankly because I don't care for it).
So...like that la. I survived. That is all.