I’m a medic, get me out of here!

Why does your job take over your life? I recently went to an event where most of the people there were doctors. (I’m not quite there yet). To be honest I think we medics are the worst. When in the company of other doctors we can’t seem to talk about anything other than medicine. I felt for the poor non-medics dotted around the room. (There weren’t many of them I don’t think). I can imagine if I were in their situation I would feel rather left out. We as a group must seem very dull. We seem to have no other interests than our job. Indeed our jobs are our lives. Of course, being interested in your job is a great thing however; having nothing else in your life I think, is a great shame.

Ok, I suppose I exaggerate. I’m sure all of these people have other interests, hobbies and past times but I really do think that the world of medicine is a bit of a bubble. It’s isolated from the rest of the universe with their acronyms and abbreviations and jargon. It really does seem that way. And I’m on the inside.

My mother's Tongue

I recently came back from a trip to Ghana. Whenever I go there I’m always a bit worried as to how I’m going to communicate with people. Although my family are originally from Ghana I was born and raised in England. My parents didn’t speak much Twi with me as I was growing up so I never learned it. When I go to there my ‘foreignness’ shows. Big Time.

I hate it. Every time I go I tell myself I must learn the language. It’s My language I tell myself. Or is it? When I speak the words sound alien on my tongue. I never know if I’m saying the right words, and/or saying them in the right order etc. People furrow their eyebrows, squint their eyes and try to decipher what I’ve said. Or they just look at me like I’m stupid. My family encourage me to try.

Excuses Excuses

Procrastination is the thief of time.

There's no doubt about that. 

I procrastinate all the time. My life is one long procrastination. When I was young I wanted to be an author. My biggest idea for a story has been brewing in my head for the last 10 years. I haven't written down a word. I've always been waiting for the time when my writing would be 'good enough'. The problem is I never bothered to practise.

I like to get things right first time. I'm one of those perfectionist-type people. I need to have a well ordered plan. I need to be in control. But I'm lazy. Instead of doing the work I postpone things. It's easier that way. I tell myself it'll be better later if I do it later. I make excuses.

So my dreams fall by the wayside. My resolutions never turn into realities. I don't want this to sound like I'm being self-depreciating. I'm being honest (even if it does sound self-depreciating). Neither do I want this to sound like those stories where the underdog claws their way to success. You know the ones. They make you feel like you too could soar through the air like the high-flyers they are. But then you realise that they have the wings of eagles while yours are more like a housefly's. So you make an excuse. Or that's your excuse. You go back to work, or to school, or wherever. You do everything the same. In my case you go back to sleeping through your lectures.