I dunno about this Hospitably Doctored website. For every literary gem featuring Dr Sarah talking about her arse, there are a dozen featuring idiotic sub-1970 lefty nonsense and statements of the blindingly obvious, like how Foundation Year Training programmes are a waste of time.
Well, durr!
We used to have things called housemen, who were vaguely useful. They’d be on the firm for six months, and would know all the patients. They’d make the tea and wash your car, and finish off the aneurysm if it was getting late and the pubs were open. They’d talk to the relatives and go to the inquests, and best of all, they’d be so desperate for a good reference that they would put up with the sort of abuse that made Flashman look like a social worker. Which was good for morale. They could go for days without sleep, food, water, or even oxygen.
But now, we’ve got these stupid things called F-Why-Bothers. Firstly, they are appointed by someone else, so half of them are drippy girls who keep bursting into tears every time you shout at them. Secondly, they only work 22.5 hours a week, and have complicated shift patterns between which they hand over essential information about what a total bastard their boss is, but nothing about any actual patients. And that’s when they’ve finished their Trust Induction course which seems to go on for four months, and where they learn all about diversity and climate change and How To Fill In Forms, without learning anything useful like putting in venflons or creative death certificate writing.
But that’s just the surgical job - you should see some of the nonsense they get up to after that. The anaesthetists always seem to have loads of them - learning how to deal with crushing pointlessness and boredom, and watching Dan the Fat Gasman evacuating his nasopharyx for eight hours a day. The last one on our firm rotated through surgery, psychiatry, basket-weaving, contemporary dance, and endocrinology.
That’s right, endocrinology!
Tags: Foundation years, Humour
Must be something in the air. I’d just sent in my next blog (don’t look, it’s not there yet) which has a little rant about bullying, along with some gentle piss-taking at the expense of surgeons. And here’s Jerry, reassuringly reinforcing my surgical stereotyping.
It’s good to know, 32 years after I hung up my scalpel (or more accurately, left it quivering between the shoulder blades of a startled theatre sister) that standards are being maintained.
My youngest son is an FY1.
His impression of the basket weaving course was that he enjoyed it tremendously. I object strongly to the notion that any part of these young doctors’ training is superfluous. Three months in the Dept. of Stealth would be good training for them. Perhaps they should shadow a Government Minister as well, for 3 months and learn how to do nothing at all in the longest possible time.
I am an FY1 and I want to be a surgeon, but it seems somewhere there is a person who’s job is to punish whoever wants a career in surgery. I am having to rotate through care of the elderly, (care of the elderly again), 4 months of general surgery, 4 months of plastics and then GP. I dont know who thought of that rotation but trust me , you dont want me to be your GP!
I was told I had to do all the e induction about diversity and equality, and learn what mop to use for what type of vomit otherwise I can not go on study leave, but it also turns out that I am not entitled to any study leave any way. And apart from a few encouraging registrars every one jumps at me if I find some time between paperwork to go up to theatre and hope to learn something.
on the other hand, there are so many opportunities to do paperwork audits and silly presentatoins that will never be of any interest in my career development (trust me I have seen the application forms and what I need to do to tick the boxes) non of that is about how much silly jobs you can do in a FY1 day