Apparently it was National Sister Day on the 3rd August and I’m afraid to say I missed it. Coincidentally I did spend it with my adult sister drinking cider and laughing so that’s good. My littlest sister gets to have a more exciting end of August as she turns 16 on Saturday AND gets her GSCE results tomorrow. Those of you with siblings will know that, for ease, people will insist on categorising you as the “clever one” or the “funny one” in the family. Indeed I was the “clever one” for a while (along with also being the bossy one, the organising one, the stressy one etc etc) Being the eldest of five means the latter personality traits are inevitable, or so a Facebook poll told me the other day.
Anyway, given my advancing age, the holes in my brain and the intellect-eating fatigue that affects every parent of young children we can all safely say that littlest sister has, deservedly, assumed the “clever one” label. She is also beautiful, popular, kind and caring and I am blessed to have her in my life (as I am blessed by all my other siblings.) She wants to be a doctor and she will be a brilliant one I have no doubt.
And now I can tell her what being a doctor is really like because I have completed my first fortnight. I am still standing and haven’t, regardless of what the media leads you to believe about ALL new doctors, made any fatal mistakes (although I admit to lots of small ones.) And I haven’t told anyone on the ward about my MS which is a bit new for me. HR know, the car park office know (hurray for energy conserving closer parking) and my senior supervisor knows but I thought I might just not tell my new colleagues. Let them get to know the real me rather than the me seen through pity spectacles. And it’s working. They seem to like me. Apparently I am cheerful and energetic (!) I am particularly good at admin, doing as I’m told and maintaining a thick skin when being shouted at by other medics and so far that seems to be my role as a junior doctor. And I love it. Today I told a patient I would come to work even if I didn’t get paid, although I didn’t add what a relief it is to FINALLY be earning again.
Last week I almost fell back into the blabbermouth trap again – I was treating a patient who happened to have MS who was telling me all about Disease Modifiers and her typical symptoms and her day to day life with the condition. Too many times I had to stop myself from saying “me too, me too.” But it has struck me that, as a medical student I could naval gaze about my condition and tell everyone around me about it in the name of “education.” But now my role is different. None of this is about me anymore. My background, home life and medical history may make me an empathetic and holistic provider of care (I hope so) but the patients don’t need to know. They need me to be smiley, competent, kind and effective … to not hurt them when taking blood and to not nick their chips at dinner time.
Tomorrow my sister will listen to the news programmes tell her that her achievements aren’t as amazing as they will be because the exams are getting easier (nonsense). She will then probably enter medicine via the “traditional” route (as opposed to the midlife crisis route I chose.) She will do science A levels (yuck) and grab every opportunity to enhance her CV to convince someone in an office somewhere that she is a well-rounded person. She will need perfect grades, work experience, to cultivate outside interests and find time to read newspapers at the expense of slobbing in front of the TV and hanging out with her friends. She will cope with the pressure but I shall watch on, saddened, just as I was as a teacher by all the unnecessary pressure we put on our young people at a time when they should be spending time just becoming adults. I can’t imagine how I would have coped with the hell that is AS levels – the extra exams thrown in just when you thought you had earned a whole year without them. But she is energetic and driven and will compete with all the other ambitious, clever young people her age to get to pursue her dream and will go and live life as an undergraduate medic with time to study, party and meet new people. She may end up being one of those young women who now ask me “how do you do it? How did you manage studying with children and how will you do this job with children?” And I will look at her, as I do at some of them and say “you have battled to get this far. The world is still your oyster and life can be what you want it to be. Keep pushing for what you want because who says you can’t have it all.”
Happy birthday H, and whatever happens tomorrow we are all massively proud of who you are and what you will be.
Weaving a way 