Friday 26 September 2008
Monday 22 September 2008
My Fathers Can Have It.
Ah, Cardiff! Glorious, divine city, reflections glistening in neon-lit puddles. I salute you.
Click here.
Click here.
Sunday 21 September 2008
Wednesday 17 September 2008
The World's Greatest Pharmacy Job.
This is possible the best pharmacy related job ever*. Driving around the outback in the Evil Empire. With a dog. In a four wheel drive. Fixing things with wire. It's all very Australian. Personally, I think it's brilliant.
*Apart from the one involving a naked Jessica Alba. Which I think only exists inside my head.
*Apart from the one involving a naked Jessica Alba. Which I think only exists inside my head.
Monday 15 September 2008
Sod.
For some reason, I thought that Aotearoa was closer to the USA than Wales was. I though this would mean that I wouldn't have to stay up until silly o'clock to watch The Democratic People's Packing Republic Of Green Bay slaughter all comers, led by the steely, silken, susurration of the New Gunslinger's throwing arm.
Instead, everything kicks off at sodding seven in the morning on Monday, which is just about the time I get up to go to work.
Barack Obama had better do something about this, or I will not be buying any more t-shirts.
Instead, everything kicks off at sodding seven in the morning on Monday, which is just about the time I get up to go to work.
Barack Obama had better do something about this, or I will not be buying any more t-shirts.
Sunday 14 September 2008
What makes a good doctor/ Freedom of Speech.
Read these first:Dr Rant
Ward 87
What makes a good doctor? From my point of view, anyone that can write a prescription properly will do. More seriously, there appears to be a bit of a fetish among the young, willowy house surgeons of Aotearoa to wear knee-high leather boots to work (and that's just the chaps, ha ha). The Welsh Pharmacist thoroughly approves. Even more seriously, however, I think that a good doctor, primarily, works with patients. At the end of the day, the patients are kind of important. It's sort of the point of the thing. Bad doctors go into management, probably because they can't hack dealing with patients. Patients smell of piss. Management places smell of coffee, and knocking off early on Friday. Not a difficult choice.
Which is kind of leading up to the question: Where does freedom of speech end, and where does crushing of dissent begin?
In Scotland, which is a strange and terrible place populated by Yetis and Tennant's Special Brew, a junior doctor has been suspended for the heinous, treasonous crime of referring to Dame Carol Black as a "shit". Carol Black has shown WRU levels of incompetence when it comes to fucking up medical careers. I would have thought that being called a shit would be the least of her problems.
Ms Black's mate, Elizabeth Paice, grassed up the junior doctor who called Ms Black a shit, to "Dr" Gillian Needham, the dean of the junior doctor. "Dr" Needham, being a worthless, self-righteous brown-nosing coward, then suspended the junior doctor.
Was he a threat to his patients? No
Was he behaving inappropiately towards other staff? No.
Was he stealing morphine for his own use? No.
Was he suspended for having an opinion? HELL YEAH!
Was this in contravention of Department of Health guidelines? HELL YEAH!
Is criticising those in power a crime? HELL YEAH! Is it bollocks.
The most important thing is: we live in this little thing called a "democracy". People with no power should not be suspended by some useless fucking cunt for referring to people with power as "shit". So the naughty boy called your mate a rude word? So fucking what. Grow a pair of fucking bollocks and get the fuck over it. Stop abusing your power and go and do us all a fucking favour and jump off a cliff. In this country, we can say what we damn well like, and you can fucking put up with it, you worthless cunt. If you don't like it, then just fuck away off. I suggest North Korea.
Ward 87
What makes a good doctor? From my point of view, anyone that can write a prescription properly will do. More seriously, there appears to be a bit of a fetish among the young, willowy house surgeons of Aotearoa to wear knee-high leather boots to work (and that's just the chaps, ha ha). The Welsh Pharmacist thoroughly approves. Even more seriously, however, I think that a good doctor, primarily, works with patients. At the end of the day, the patients are kind of important. It's sort of the point of the thing. Bad doctors go into management, probably because they can't hack dealing with patients. Patients smell of piss. Management places smell of coffee, and knocking off early on Friday. Not a difficult choice.
Which is kind of leading up to the question: Where does freedom of speech end, and where does crushing of dissent begin?
In Scotland, which is a strange and terrible place populated by Yetis and Tennant's Special Brew, a junior doctor has been suspended for the heinous, treasonous crime of referring to Dame Carol Black as a "shit". Carol Black has shown WRU levels of incompetence when it comes to fucking up medical careers. I would have thought that being called a shit would be the least of her problems.
Ms Black's mate, Elizabeth Paice, grassed up the junior doctor who called Ms Black a shit, to "Dr" Gillian Needham, the dean of the junior doctor. "Dr" Needham, being a worthless, self-righteous brown-nosing coward, then suspended the junior doctor.
Was he a threat to his patients? No
Was he behaving inappropiately towards other staff? No.
Was he stealing morphine for his own use? No.
Was he suspended for having an opinion? HELL YEAH!
Was this in contravention of Department of Health guidelines? HELL YEAH!
Is criticising those in power a crime? HELL YEAH! Is it bollocks.
The most important thing is: we live in this little thing called a "democracy". People with no power should not be suspended by some useless fucking cunt for referring to people with power as "shit". So the naughty boy called your mate a rude word? So fucking what. Grow a pair of fucking bollocks and get the fuck over it. Stop abusing your power and go and do us all a fucking favour and jump off a cliff. In this country, we can say what we damn well like, and you can fucking put up with it, you worthless cunt. If you don't like it, then just fuck away off. I suggest North Korea.
Thursday 11 September 2008
Sunday 7 September 2008
Football Update.
It's really quite depressing when the vast majority of your national football team is several years younger than you are. Anyway, a mighty 1-0 win for Cymru against Azerbaijan. I didn't stay up for it, fell asleep after watching 28 Weeks Later.
Also, Aotearoa have a World Cup pre-qualifier qualifier thing on Wednesday, against New Caledonia. I'm thinking about going to it, although it's a bit academic, as the All Whites have already vanquished the rest of the tiny islands that make up Oceania (now that the Evil Empire have decided to be Asian). We've already qualified for the play-off thingy against the Asia fifth place team, or whoever it is this time.
Also, Aotearoa have a World Cup pre-qualifier qualifier thing on Wednesday, against New Caledonia. I'm thinking about going to it, although it's a bit academic, as the All Whites have already vanquished the rest of the tiny islands that make up Oceania (now that the Evil Empire have decided to be Asian). We've already qualified for the play-off thingy against the Asia fifth place team, or whoever it is this time.
Wednesday 3 September 2008
Worthless Quack
This is one of the many reasons why I have nothing but contempt for the RPSGB. They seem to think that some worthless,useless, magic-water believing quack is a suitable person to be president of the RPSGB.
I loathe Christine Glover with every fibre of my being. As far as I'm concerned, her and the Kaynes represent all that is bad, all that is evil, and all that is self-serving about the profession. Remember, these people think that magic water can cure disease. Christine Glover seems to think that it is ethical to offer homeopathic treatment to children. I think that lying to parents, telling them that the expensive magic water that you are ripping them off with actually does something, is completely unethical. The RPSGB seem quite happy with it. Draw your own conclusions as to the interests they are representing.
Worthless Quack
Remember, this woman sells vastly-overpriced water and pretends it can treat illness.
I loathe Christine Glover with every fibre of my being. As far as I'm concerned, her and the Kaynes represent all that is bad, all that is evil, and all that is self-serving about the profession. Remember, these people think that magic water can cure disease. Christine Glover seems to think that it is ethical to offer homeopathic treatment to children. I think that lying to parents, telling them that the expensive magic water that you are ripping them off with actually does something, is completely unethical. The RPSGB seem quite happy with it. Draw your own conclusions as to the interests they are representing.
Worthless Quack
Remember, this woman sells vastly-overpriced water and pretends it can treat illness.
Tuesday 2 September 2008
Fucking Muppets
Four calls so far tonight, only one of which (well, possibly two) needed my attention
1) Call from the Deliverance hospital, even further in the sticks than I am. They wanted a gentamicin dose for a patient who'd had his first dose last night. Absolutely no reason why this could not have been done in work hours. Now once, fair enough, we all make mistakes. Thing is, this was the third call in a week we've had from them about a patient we have absolutely no knowledge of.
I may write them an angry note.
2) Do we keep Twatolol injection?
It's in the fucking emergency cupboard. It's a sort of horrible snot-coloured box. Go and look for it properly.
3) One of my favourite house officers rang me up to ask
"Heeeey, bro, how do I get a 20mg dose from this 100mg tablet bro?"
"You can give the injection orally"
"Aw, truuuuue bro? You'd better not be lying to me, aye?"
Fair enough, I don't mind helping her out, as she's a nice person and a cracking doctor, but the information is all in MIMS.
4) Mifepristone for a concealed miscarriage. Fair do's, no complaints about coming in for this.
1) Call from the Deliverance hospital, even further in the sticks than I am. They wanted a gentamicin dose for a patient who'd had his first dose last night. Absolutely no reason why this could not have been done in work hours. Now once, fair enough, we all make mistakes. Thing is, this was the third call in a week we've had from them about a patient we have absolutely no knowledge of.
I may write them an angry note.
2) Do we keep Twatolol injection?
It's in the fucking emergency cupboard. It's a sort of horrible snot-coloured box. Go and look for it properly.
3) One of my favourite house officers rang me up to ask
"Heeeey, bro, how do I get a 20mg dose from this 100mg tablet bro?"
"You can give the injection orally"
"Aw, truuuuue bro? You'd better not be lying to me, aye?"
Fair enough, I don't mind helping her out, as she's a nice person and a cracking doctor, but the information is all in MIMS.
4) Mifepristone for a concealed miscarriage. Fair do's, no complaints about coming in for this.
Monday 1 September 2008
In Which My Boss Goes Insane.
We finally had our August staff meeting in work today (yes, we are a bit behind the times down here in the Colonies). Anyway, much ado was had about nothing, as per usual, and we had just approached the wrapping up stage and talking about bollocks stage...
Golden tech: "And our billets from England, they didn't know what pop was aye, bro?"
Me: "Don't be daft, everyone knows what pop is."
Golden Tech: "No, truuuuuue bro, I had to say a fizzy drink to them, aye bro?"
Me: "Nonsense, they probably didn't understand you. Hell, I don't understand you and I've been here a lot longer than they have. Besides, I'm not even from bloody England."
Boss: "Right, shut up TWP. Listen, this month, we're all supposed to be caring for each other. To accomplish this, you are all going to be assigned Care Bear characters, and at our next staff meeting, you can let us know how exactly you're cared for someone using your Care Bear character. Bewildered Scouser?"
BS: "Wor aye, Stevie G?"
Boss: "Do a Google search for Care Bears, and assign everyone a character"
Naturally, at this point, my jaw has literally hit the floor. Frankly, this is the most alien concept I have come across outside of a Lovecraft book. As team-building exercises go, it's a spectacularly bad idea.
Jaw agape, I scan the room for support. If we have to be characters from a crap kids cartoon, can't I at least become Optimus Prime. However, no support is forthcoming. The Bewildered Scouser is wise enough to keep his counsel to himself, while the fine womenfolk of Aotearoa get very excited about pretending to be a made-up character from a made-up 1980s cartoon.
God help us all.
Boss:"So TWP, what Care Bear do you want to be?"
Me: "Can I be Evil Motherfucker Sonuvvabitch Bear?
Boss: "No, you're Lovesalot Bear."
Working with a load of women sucks more than Jenna Jameson.
Golden tech: "And our billets from England, they didn't know what pop was aye, bro?"
Me: "Don't be daft, everyone knows what pop is."
Golden Tech: "No, truuuuuue bro, I had to say a fizzy drink to them, aye bro?"
Me: "Nonsense, they probably didn't understand you. Hell, I don't understand you and I've been here a lot longer than they have. Besides, I'm not even from bloody England."
Boss: "Right, shut up TWP. Listen, this month, we're all supposed to be caring for each other. To accomplish this, you are all going to be assigned Care Bear characters, and at our next staff meeting, you can let us know how exactly you're cared for someone using your Care Bear character. Bewildered Scouser?"
BS: "Wor aye, Stevie G?"
Boss: "Do a Google search for Care Bears, and assign everyone a character"
Naturally, at this point, my jaw has literally hit the floor. Frankly, this is the most alien concept I have come across outside of a Lovecraft book. As team-building exercises go, it's a spectacularly bad idea.
Jaw agape, I scan the room for support. If we have to be characters from a crap kids cartoon, can't I at least become Optimus Prime. However, no support is forthcoming. The Bewildered Scouser is wise enough to keep his counsel to himself, while the fine womenfolk of Aotearoa get very excited about pretending to be a made-up character from a made-up 1980s cartoon.
God help us all.
Boss:"So TWP, what Care Bear do you want to be?"
Me: "Can I be Evil Motherfucker Sonuvvabitch Bear?
Boss: "No, you're Lovesalot Bear."
Working with a load of women sucks more than Jenna Jameson.
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