Last week was a series of lows.
I can’t even describe it. It was a case of the proverbial faeces hitting the proverbial fan. Multiple times.
I started the week feeling incredibly tired from the weekend. Nothing unusual, just a tad more Monday blues than normal. But I didn’t think anything of it.
I ran a few errands on Monday and Tuesday: sorted a few things out on eBay, put off writing a blog post, some running. I was slowly beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the things I was juggling. And to top it all off, it felt like I was coming down with something. And instead of really tackling those issues, I found solace in lying in bed watching Youtube videos, just something to take my mind off everything.
Then came Wednesday. I had my morning clinic and then went on a home visit to review an elderly man with back pain. The symptoms had resolved by the time I got there so I made my way to the hospital for the weekly afternoon teaching. I grabbed a Subway on the way, even though I’d been avoiding buying lunches because I am trying to save. But I’d been so tired, I hadn’t prepared anything to bring in to work and eat, I must.
My supervisor grabbed me as soon as I arrived, so that we could have our mandatory introductory session (which we have for the start of each placement). She asked me how I was and all of a sudden I just offload a tsunami of emotions, mostly about how deflated I felt etc, etc. She gave me a funny look: concern/surprise/worry and told me she wanted to see me again in two weeks. I caught her off guard but to be honest, she caught me off guard as well. Saying it out loud made it all seem a bit more real. I’m not sure why it all came spilling out like that and I kept thinking about it, all the way through teaching. I had some idea in my head that the medical postgraduate team were going to put me on red alert or something and start watching my every move.
By 8, I was fast asleep, I was just too tired and achy to fight it any longer.
I got to work Thursday morning. Settled into my clinic. First patient didn’t arrive and I’d left my GP bag in the car (the one I use on house visits and that I had taken home with me the day before). I quickly went out to get it before the next patient arrived. I couldn’t find it. Weird. I called home and asked if someone had taken it out of the car. No one had.
I looked all around the car, panic rising. Where could it have gone? Eventually, I ran out of places to look and I had to walk back to my supervisor and let her know. I felt so responsible and stupid. I’d only been there (at the GP practice) for 2 weeks, and this really wasn’t the way I wanted to form an impression. I felt like I let them all down.
I went to the police station later on that day. My expectations were low; I knew it’d be unlikely they would find an unmarked generic black bag, but I needed to report it. The policewoman I met made me feel 10 times worse. She had a really accusing tone. One of the questions she asked me: “how do you know the bag was stolen” left me dumbfounded. I stared at her confused, I looked at my mum, and then back at her. I didn’t understand what she wanted me to say. There were other things she said that again made me feel like she was judging me or making assumptions about me. The whole experience was uncomfortable and unnecessarily so.
So, all in all, not a great week.