Emergency Paging Dr Beat.

This was meant to be my first ever post. Written in the hospital bed that started this whole ball rolling. It truly belongs in the Feb 2010 folder, so try to imagine it there if you can ;-)

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I’ll, be honest, I’ve heard of blogs, and understand the concept. I just didn’t think it would be something I would ever do. After all, I’m no writer, and with my terminal case of verbal diarrhoea you’re lucky if I make sense at all. However, this week I’ve found myself a reluctant resident in one of the NHS’s finest medical establishments and after listening to my tales of life chez l’hôpital, one of my guests suggested I have a stab at documenting life on the front line. Naturally, my first instinct was to laugh it off, but after 4 days here, I’ll try anything to relieve my boredom.

I arrived here on Monday morning bright and early. Admittedly, I’m not much of a morning person and don’t so much leap out of bed, as reluctantly peel away the duvet and drag my zombie-like body towards the bathroom for some cold water to kick start the day. Monday was no exception. I’ve not been sleeping well lately and hadn’t slept at all that night, so I was feeling particularly useless on my rise from the dead...sorry bed. I wandered into the bathroom, parked myself on the loo, with the day’s ‘to-do’ list scrolling through my head, and promptly blacked out. Not your Hollywood swoon with a graceful slide to the floor, but a cheek plastered to the wall and drooling down my chin job. So attractive! I came to a few minutes later and decided that just maybe, rather than driving myself to A+E, I should perhaps ask my neighbour to drive instead.

I’m amazingly lucky in my flat, in that I have fab neighbours on my floor. It’s a bit like being back in Dorms again, but more importantly, I like to think they’re good mates. So after a minute or two to wipe up the drool and make sure I was covered, if not decent, I banged on Charlie’s door. She looked just as awake as I felt, but didn’t hesitate to offer to drive me in, and we were suited and booted and on our way in to casualty in no time at all.

Now, I’m pretty cack-handed and have spent my fair share of time sampling the delights of various emergency departments, and so I wasn’t that worried about going in. After all, it was 8.30 on a Monday morning, how busy could it be? It wasn’t as if I had to contend with weekend drunks or sporting heroes. Judging from my years of experience, I reckoned we’d be in and out in about 2 hours or so. Perfect. Get them to check me over just in case, then crawl back into my bed and attempt to catch up on my missed sleep. It was the perfect plan...and like the best laid plans, destined to go awry.

It all started so well. The department was empty and I was seen by the triage nurse in less than 5 minutes. We settled down for the expected hour and half wait to see the docs. True to form, an hour and a half later I was called through to a cubicle. Thankfully, the lovely Charlie had stayed with me and was on hand to keep me entertained. See I’m not a good patient, I hate to wait for anything and have a tendency to forget or underplay my symptoms, and after calling me through , the rather scary doctor clutching the obligatory clipboard and sporting a 5 o’clock shadow, proceeded to disappear like the after eights at a party. There wasn’t hint nor hair of him for another hour, and just as I was settling in for my toddler in a tantrum scene, he finally reappeared. Man he was scary, he barked out questions like a drill sergeant on parade, and treated me like a specimen on a glass slide. He ordered some bloods and vanished yet again...for another bloody hour!

Thankfully, he was swiftly replaced by a very handsome young registrar, who made me go through the whole damn rigmarole again. Why do they bother taking a history and triage notes, if you’re going to have to go through it again and again? Still, I wasn’t so pleased to see him when he said that they were going to keep me in for observation. ‘Just 24 hours’ he promised. ‘Just let the cardiologist take a look then you can go home.’ I should bloody coco. I’m still here 5 days later!

Singing songs about the southlands

The last month has been a bit of a blur really. The Fulbright Commission made us wait until the last possible second before they put us out of our misery. They pushed back the announcement date a further week and when judgement day finally arrived they held out until 4pm before sending the email with our fate.

I was lucky, they had found me a match! When the email arrived, I was sitting in the waiting room at the dentist and I had to fight hard to resist the urge to demonstrate my victory dance to the other patients. My dentist was stunned at the change in me because usually I am an awful patient. She had never seen me so happy in her chair!

I've been paired with a lovely teacher from a school in Homewood, Alabama, where I will teach a 4th grade class. There are so many things to learn about the US education system and I'm going to have to adjust to having the same class of cherubs all day long. I've never been to Alabama and I'm so excited to learn more about my new home. I'll be there for the school year and I hope to travel some before I return to the UK the following year.

So what next? Well, I've been drowning under a small rainforest of paperwork for the last few weeks but I think I'm mostly up to date for now. Now I need to wait on some medical tests before visiting the US Embassy and sorting out my visa. My lovely partner and I are swapping long detailed emails, and skyping when we can, to get to know both each other and the job we will have to do. I'm taking this opportunity to gut and clear the tat from my flat before I go and I'm spending as much time as I can with my family and friends. 


I have no doubts that the year to come will be a hugely rewarding and fascintating experience and I'm very excited about 'The Big Move'. I have so many things to organise before I go that I've got lists for my lists and my penchant for buying stationary has paid off in spades. I'm begging friends for advice about living in the US, so if you've got any golden nuggets, leave me a comment below ;-) I'm off to make another list!


96 days and counting...The game is afoot!