Random thought threads from a rainy ‘call’ day.

 

I will admit that men and women of all vocations work hard. Engineers sometimes work odd hours, IT folk may work horrible hours, investment bankers suffer from stress ulcers; even tax practitioners and auditors have their “times of the year” when the hours are irrelevant. All said, for most people “hours of work” is a reality, which is sometimes subject to exceptions and extraordinary circumstances. But for some segments of society, work has no relation to the concept of night and day, ‘work days’ and ‘off days’.

Ask a security guard, a nurse, or better still – ask a surgical resident.

 

 

 

You might have heard inpatient doctors complain about their hours ad nauseam. About how our responsibilities never cease, and about how our hours never end. I try and refrain from that kind of commentary on most occasions, but some days I just cannot seem to keep it in.

 

 

Of course, there is always a trigger that sets me off. The rant is almost always precluded by some event/ occurrence or change in surrounding mien, that brings forth the feeling of resentment and discontent.

Today, the trigger seems to be the rain.

 

 

I’m no foreigner to rain. I have mostly lived in places where the rain is a constant of life. Where the rain is seldom appreciated or cherished and is most often considered a nuisance to everyday life.But in these parched lands, the rains are always welcome in my books. It reminds me of lazy childhood days, and naughty teenage years. The rain makes me feel young, fresh and unbothered again.

 

 

 

On a day such as this, a weekend no less; I should be home, lounging on the couch. With crisps on hand, re- watching old, action/ suspense movies  or fluffy reality shows while the Little One bounces off the living room walls as usual, and the husband lies semi- comatose a.k.a asleep and snoring away comfortingly beside me.

 

 

 

 

Here I am, sipping coffee and typing a quickie post, while I watch the rain from a tiny window in the on- call room, and wait for a call from the ER. It’s quite pathetic really. The window doesn’t open and I cannot hear the rain or smell the air; the coffee is tepid and poor and this post might yet be unfinished/ unpublished as I might get called any moment.

 

 

 

I have not seen the sunlight today nor have I have breathed in any “real” air (barring the conditioned variety). To make matters worse I have a pounding headache that seems mighty resistant to any analgesic that I can throw at it.

 

 

 

Most days, we wish for a “light- call”. A day/ night when we see few patients, stable patients, non- crazy patients, ‘classic- case’ patients, unsurprising patients…. You get the drift. Today though, I wish it were insanely, crazy busy (like some nights are) since it is the only way for the hours to whizz past, and not drag along painfully.

 

 

 

I love my job. On most days. But on days like this, I am forced to dwell upon the countless weekends and holidays I have missed. The innumerable hours of night sleep I have sacrificed at the alter of medicine and surgery, and the infinite hours of family time that I have relinquished in the path to be where I am today.

 

Hope the night is quiet folks. And hope some sleep is in store.

 

Till next time..

 

Dr J.

 

P.S. Above worlds were penned at different times during the day. In between the usual “business”. Quickly and without edits; on a handheld, mobile device.

*Disclaimer- No persons/ patients were neglected/ harmed during the making/ publishing of this post.There was no abdication of duty at any point of time.

Weekends.

Couple dynamics in contemporary families is a complex, almost incomprehensible affair. Our roles should not be defined by gender we promulgate, yet within the confines of our individual homes, away from prying eyes of family, friends and society;  we are often left wondering what it means to be The Wife or The Husband. We battle stereotypes and prejudicious beliefs that are deeply entrenched within our conscience and despite our elaborate education, extensive travel and exposure to varied cultures and experiences, we are left confused and conflicted.

Stay-at-home- dads and “helpful” husbands are sometimes demeaned. Women and mothers who work are often arraigned.

The only smart way to deal with all the internal conflict is to often just let things slide, and treat each day on it’s own merit. To not assign strict domestic roles and treat each task and chore as a separate entity. Easier said than done, I know. And what works for us, may not work for you and your family.

Weekends are ironically, the hardest days. A day(s) that should ideally be spent with emphasis on rest and recuperation, more often than not ends up being one of chaos and haste. The woman goes to sleep on the eve of the day in question, her mind full of plans and an almost a minute by minute blueprint for the next day. Of course, it is an entirely different matter how much of it actually transpires in reality. The man, despite his earnest intentions to help is mostly looking forward to a quiet day of eating and seating. Eating delicious (preferably home cooked) meals and ‘seating’ in front of the television, on the couch with his best friend aka ‘portal to the internet’ (not his wife in this case) on his lap.

At the end of the day, you are left harried and irritated, both of you; thanks to your different approaches and agendas. And instead of looking forward to or being prepared for another hectic work week ahead, you start the week jaded and fatigued. The cycle if not interrupted, rolls on viciously until it all reaches tipping point one day.

Therefore, for the sake of healthy experimentation and change, I have decided to not have even an iota of a plan this weekend. I have no clue when I might put the laundry in or if and when I might prep some meals for the week. Would I study for a bit? Would I actually check my blog or reply to my emails? Will I take Lil Z to the park or the beach? Will there be time to pick up some new toys and books for The Little One? Can I finally get to completing my weekly log?

Who the hell knows! All I know is that it’s almost time for lunch, and the sum total of what I have managed to do this morning is lounge on the couch and flick the laptop open, type random rubbish to you folks as I watch Morgan Freeman give the performance of a lifetime as Ellis Boyd “Red” Redding while Mr H and Lil Z snore the morning away.

Have a good one folks.

Till next time..

Dr J.

P.S. By the time I hit the “publish” key it’s past sunset (1730 hours). I sit at Corniche, sipping some tepid tea, alongside the weekend crowd; with the oddly shaped pyramidal Sheraton on my left, the quiet sea in front of me and the maddening Doha traffic to my right. So if anyone is around here, pop in and say hello. Or marhaba!

What’s on my night- stand?

I may have already done a post on night- stands before. I have a “thing” about nightstands/ side- tables. Given a chance to peek into somebody’s home or life, I will first scan the contents of their fridge and then immediately move on to their night stands. This little space in one’s beddroom reveals so much about them and  their habits.

This weekend, I wake up before the family does and sneak in some pictures. Hope you learn a little more about moi from my nightstand!

It's a tad short on space these days.
It’s a tad short on space these days. I have to share it with one other person 🙂
The early morning rays fill me with optimism and excitement. And it's the weekend too!
The early morning rays fill me with optimism and excitement. And it’s the weekend too!
The night-time work horses.
The night-time work horses.
The filo-lamy combo- my trusty companions.
The filo-lamy combo,  my trusty companions.
The Sisters from different fathers- Missy Windows and Madame iOS. They follow me EVERYWHERE...
The Sisters from different fathers- Missy Windows and Madame iOS. They follow me EVERYWHERE…

Have a lovely weekend folks!

Till next time..

Dr J.