In Which a Blog is Prodigally Returned-to, and a Brief Update leads to Not Particularly Interesting Self-Affirmation.

So, someone the other day asked me why I never seem to post on my blog anymore. The answer to this is threefold: firstly, I was posting largely as procrastination, before, and I've finished my thesis, so now I don't spend hours in front of my computer pondering absently. Secondly, I do not, at present, have the internet at home. Thirdly, to be honest, on account of the first point, I'd almost forgotten that I had a blog at all.

Anyway, I'm on it now. But as usual, it's taken me so long to hack into my own account (which is to say, remember both the login name AND password) that I've completely forgotten what I was going to post about. As such, I will simply update my blog in terms of "here's what's changed since last time" and hope that I remember while I do that.

Last time I posted anything I had just handed in my thesis, just started going out with a Young Man,and just had an interview to see if I would get into Medicine. The answers to the questions implicit in these events are, in reverse order, Yes, No, and Maybe. Which is to say: I got into Medicine, Simon and I broke up, and I got Honours, but not quite such impressive marks as I'd've liked.

The experienced reader, at this point, thinks unsurprised thoughts about this last point. "Of course you didn't go all that well, you idiot. You wrote the same number of words in blog posts in the two months before you handed in your thesis as you wrote in your Entire Thesis! Perhaps a little undivided attention whould have been a good idea, hmmm?" Well, you're right, but I think it's unkind of you to mention it.

Anyway, there's a thing: Undivided Attention. I have totally lost the ability to ever have that. Reading old posts, with all their parentheitical distractions, I almost doubt whether I was ever much good at focusing, but I'm certainly shot now. In lectures, I knit. In front of the TV I paint and unpaint my nails, or sew, or something. In a tutorial, the other day, I took it into my head to mend a shirt in class.

Who the hell could possibly think that was a good idea? Does that, one fears one's tutor inevitably asks himself, really show appropriate Respect for The Problem Based Learning Process? I really was listening and stuff, honest, it's just that I'm so fidgety that it seems that I ought to at least fidget constructively. It's weird. Anyway. I'm sure it will be fine, and even if I flunk out of medicine on account of it (deeply unlikely? Computer says yes!) at least I can open some kind of awesome cafe where I bake cupcakes and suchlike, and then while people drink their tea, I sew the buttons back on their mending and so on.

Hey wow, best idea ever? Don't try to tell me there wouldn't be a market for that. It would be like being a 1950s housewife for a job, but without all the weird sexual repression. I could probably wear 1950s dresses the whole time for effect. That would be Pretty Sweet, quite frankly.

In the meanwhile, though, I think I'll keep Doctorin' as Plan A, because although it was all a bit much at first, it's pretty cool now. The lectures still sort of seem to be either much too complex and involved (these are the specific protein weights for all the genes involved in cancer - what? Seriously? You don't expect me to remember any of this, do you?) or repetitive in explaining pretty simple things (it took an hour yesterday for them to tell us - again- that drug use was a complex issue, and it was important not to discriminate against drug-using patients), it seems to be kind of coming together a bit.

Also, the other day, for no very convincingly understandable reason, instead of a 2 hour hospital clinic tutorial on Orthopaedic examination, we (2 students)were sent to stand in theatre while someone had their hip operation. This was unexpectedly rewarding, if not particularly educational. We couldn't really see what was actually happening (or I couldn't; maybe Tall Cam could see over the shoulders), but it was cool to see the setup and there were blood splashes on the plastic curtain, and smoke which I hadn't expected but which was not as distressing as I might've expected if it had occurred to me to expect it. Also, I managed to solve the problem of being completely supernumerary by holding the (awake but spinal-blocked) patient's hand and saying "everything's ok" in a clear, confident voice every time he looked terrified.

I'm given to understand that this sort of thing is awfully good for people, just as you might more or less expect, so leaving aside that the sedatives will have given him amnesia and he won't remember it, I feel like I did a Good Thing.

This seems reassuring. It's nice to have one's secret hopes that one would remember to be Thoughtful in a minor crisis confirmed.

Man, boring reading, much? I promise that my next blog post will contain 100% more tigers, dinosaurs and UFOs fighting each other with Swords. I cannot promise that the sentences would be shorter, but if this is really bothering you, read Cake Wrecks instead.