Be yourself

Face it. You only know how to be one person, so be that person and enjoy it. I see so many people who are imprisoned by the fear of so-and-so thinking they're weak/not coping/unattractive/worthless, and it amplifies the problem.

The amazing factor in this is that the people who seem most affected by this continual "What do they think of me?" pain are the more educated, better off and, dare I say it, middle class individuals, who one would think would know better. And I don't exclude myself from that description. I well recognise from personal experience the alterations one makes to behaviour purely on the grounds of one's perception of what others will think about what you do. The problem with such behavioural modification is that you tend to attract people into your social support networks who then expect you to behave in the same way. You constantly put pressure on yourself to behave in that way, even when life makes it very difficult to do so. Then, when you need the support most, you can't turn to it because the people whose shoulders you need to cry on are the very people you've struggled so hard to hide that bit of yourself from all this time.

Imagine the reverse scenario. Imagine that you never really cared what other people thought of you. Now by this, I don't mean that you need to be impolite or selfish, but imagine life without that feeling of, "I can't possibly wear shorts to work today. What will people think?" Then think about what happens if you act on it. You wear shorts to work today. OK, so you might get comments from clients. Some might even prefer a doctor who wears long trousers and go and find one. The ones you're left with are the ones who don't really mind. So you can wear shorts EVERY day.

What about if you want to admit you're feeling depressed about something, and need some support from your friends. "What ever will they think?" Well ask them. Either they will run a mile and be of no use whatsoever, or they will support and comfort you (hopefully constructively), thus deepening the firendship. You will be more understanding of them when they come to you in the same situation. You will be closer to them, and your friendships will no longer be superficial and desperate to please, but relaxed and truly sharing in joy.

The problem is starting. I know the theory. But anyone reading this who actually knows me is probably thinking, "So if it's that easy, why don't you do it?" OK. Mea Culpa. But go look at my profile and read the bit about public therapy. I'm going to try to bear this in mind more. I'm going to try and act upon it and let the world know more of what really goes on inside my head and heart. I'll let you know how it goes. Go and do it too.

Three minutes about yesterday

Surgery starts in three minutes and I didn't get time to come online last night, but I had meant to write something after a fantastic day. Because Sophie was working on Saturday, I had the kids on my own at Church and they were fabulously good. We managed to have three meals outside because the weather was sooooo nice - having breakfast outside really makes it feel like a holiday, even when it isn't. Pains au chocolat were enjoyed, particularly by Caitlin, who managed to tell the whole street about them.

Nice afternoon in the garden. Then for dinner tried to roast a leg of lamb whole on the barbeque. Took a good hour to light it, and then cooked the lamb slowly (lid on the barbie) for about two hours. It was delicious. Like Peking crispy duck. Kids didn't like the "black bits", but that was OK beacuse I did. Sunday Times Wine Club Rioja with it - very good, lightish for a Rioja, but full of flavour.

Well there - three mintues and another banal entry. Oh yeah - I just remembered why I particularly wanted to write, other than the instructions for the lamb in case I forget them again..... Edward finally has managed to swing more than an inch on a swing. Not sitting on it yet, just resting his tummy across it, but still swinging quite high. I took some pics, but they are at home. Was going to post them with this, so rather defeated the object.

Hazards of growing up

Sophie was at work all day today. I had the kids alone and it was a lovely day. We decided to spend the afternoon in the garden. I thought this might be a good opportunity to potty train Caitlin. We not sure she really understands what happens in her nappy, so I thought tine without it might help, particularly if backed up by bribery and corruption.

So everything was going well. Until she pooed. Oh my goodness. I think the whole street heard. She didn't know what was happening. The rest of us did though - poo everywhere.

Sophie called to let me know she was OK. I didn't know that there was any reason for her not to be, until she said. There's been a bomb scare in Brum. They evacuated 20,000 people from the city centre, mainly from Broad Street area. We must go on. The only alternative is to let the terrorists win. She's at the Children's all night. Protect her please.

Today

End of not a bad day. Work. Not too busy. I met a woman today whose nephew had been on the bottom deck of yesterday's bus in London. He escaped with some cuts on his hands and face. And I'm assuming some psychological trauma. Wow. I can't decide if he was really lucky or just not quite really really unlucky. Either way, it rather put some other complaints from the day in perspective. Had one woman complaining about her grown up daughter who we were not able to prescribe a years worth of medication to see her through her gap year in some foreign parts. I'll have to answer it and, to be honest, it seems ridiculous that we can't do it. But the patient is only a temporary resident with us, and will not even be entitled to NHS treatment for the second six months of her gap year, nor for six months when she comes back. But she'll get it. They always do. I just object when they take it out on our staff, who valiantly put up with no end of crap from all sorts of people when it's not their fault at all.

Classic from Edward today. He wanted to get a new egg timer, because the one we've got takes too long. I tried to explain. I got nowhere.

The G8 have managed to avoid the climate change issue again. They arse around with words to make something that might be important into something completely benign which will allow everything to on the way it always had.

Remember this next week: Chicken Moglai is great - slightly spicy with some chillies, egg and a thick sauce.

7/7... 9/11?

Sitting here on my day off and thought I'd stick the news on to see what's going on. Bugger me. London is going bang. It started with reports of a single explosion in Aldgate, thought to be a power surge. But then there were others on the tube and then there was a bus in Tavostock Square which has its top deck (and the passengers up there) sprayed all over BMA House. That's where it is at the moment - 10:32.

The newscasters are trying so hard to get someone else to say the word "terrorism" first. Certainly, the power surge theory can't really refer to electrical power on a London bus. G8 in Scotland. Olympic success yesterday. We really seem to have the focus on us at the moment. Certainly a good time for a terrorist group to get themselves noticed.

Well that's my day - sitting in front of BBC News 24 watching it develop.

G8, Poverty and the Olympics

What a strange day. BBC News 24 is showing only two stories - the G8 and the Olympics coming to London. Bob Geldof is talking about a child dying every three seconds in the poorest countries of the world, and Seb Coe is talking about what a great win it is for London to have the games in 2012. What are we supposed to think?

Now I need to declare an interest in this: I wear a white band and was at Edinburgh on Saturday 2nd July (the peaceful day). On the way to Edinburgh I watched Hotel Rwanda on the coach's DVD player. I was in tears in a coach full of strangers. I don't believe any father can face such a graphic representation of the fear of losing a child, or worse, seeing a child tortured without emotion. I was surprised to see from the film (accepting that some artistic license will have been used) that the two factions in Rwanda were fighting for reasons stemming from Belgian colonialism, rather than the much touted "natural tendency for corruption" which exists in Africa. I don't see how this corruption can be seen as an excuse by us rich for abdicating our responsibilty to help. Firstly, as was pointed out to me by a friend this morning, Italy has managed with corruption for a long time without widespread poverty being a fatal issue for its children. Secondly, colonialism must have some part to play in the development of corruption over time, so we have a duty to help put right what we cocked up in the first place. Thirdly, what does it matter what the reasons for the poverty are? Did the Good Samaritan ask if the traveller deserved his fate? "Well, he shouldn't have been travelling alone through such a dangerous pass, should he? He brought it on himself really. Why should I help?" I don't remember that part of the story.

But what about the Olympics? Undoubtedly a great institution and a real motivator for the world. Motivation to aspire, to achieve, and to win. I've always admired the Olympic Movement. It is peaceful, unifying and exciting. But hold on. They're also talking about the amount of money that is going to be spent. Millions. It's OK though, apparently, because it will mean jobs and income for the country. Thats good then. And that money really would only be a drop in the ocean in Africa.

But the whole Olympic thing seems tarnished by the gravity of what is going on in Gleneagles. David Beckham - £40,000 a week (or whatever). A child in poverty - 65 cents a day. Why are we cheering this? It should be making us cry on a coach full of strangers.

An angry clown 

Make Poverty History March 2nd July 2005 

Just to remind me

I was just wondering how I could remeber all the things I could write about on here. Then I thought, "If only I had a blog I could do that SOOOOOOOO easily". Pretty stupid for a doctor, huh?

OK - here's the first thoughts:
1. My feelings about spirituality.
2. Why are people so dissatified with the NHS?
3. How does a non-medic interpret medical journalism?
4. Rationing in the NHS.
5. Party Politics.
6. Privatisation of the NHS.
7. Phi.
8. Unresolved memories.

That will probably do for a start. It'll take me a year to get through those anyway. If there are any readers out there and you have a preference for where I should start or another title you think I might know something about (whyever would you though?), please let me know.

Profile updated

Well I've wandered around the site and updated my profile. Haven't been able to get a photo of me attached to the profile, but will keep trying. I've never thought it was fair to have something like this without a picture. If you post a reply, then I'd be grateful if you would attach one.

Hold on - I know no-one's ever going to read this. I feel like I'm talking to myself now. The same feeling I used to get writing "Dear Diary" at the top of each entry in my early teenage angst years. It seemed like somewhere to start, but felt rather silly at the same time.

Ah well, who is there to laugh?

What do I write here...?

Well here we are. I don't really know what a blog is. I mean, I DO know that it's short for web log, so I'm assuming it's like a diary or something. But I don't know how you've got here. Or, even weirder thought, WHY you've got here. But here you are, so welcome.

We'll see together how this is going to pan out over time. If it's like anything else in my life I'll enjoy it obessively for a while then forget about it for a bit while I go and play with a new toy. When I get bored of that, I'll find another and another and another and another until I'll eventually get back here. There. A prophecy. Well, you'll be able to tell from the clustering of datings on the posts how much of a sixth sense I have. Or how well I know myself at least.

OK - I'm going to have a wander around the tools I have at my disposal and will be back. Have fun wherever you are.

Tim