Junior Doctor - INight shiftI was a veteran of five nights, already. I had coped with mad patients, agitated patients, falling patients, fever-spiking patients, desaturating patients, had certified death... the full gamut, really. You think you've seen it all - until, of course, you see what you haven't seen yet. I started my night shift at 21:30 as usual, handed over about ten new patients to see that had just been transferred over. It promised to be a busy night. I've never understood the wisdom behind transferring patients over to a hospital at 21:00 when there is only about one doctor for every hundred and fifty patients in the hospital, but somebody needs to see them, so off I went, deciding to begin with the ward that usually had the sickest people.When I arrived there, I'm pounced on at the door by the nurse, who said in her crisp Scottish accent, "Doctor, you need to see this man. He's bleeding from his femoral line."My mind
Letter to a fatherDear Father,As I sit in a room two continents away, surrounded by clothes and books and pretty things, all bought with money provided by you, five years into a degree funded by you, I type away this letter.Dear Father, two days ago you laughed when I excitedly showed you a photo of a thirty-five-bedroom castle and said that one day I will buy it, and you told me that at my age you had stopped having those grandiose dreams. Let me tell you a different story. Nineteen years ago, you pulled a drawer out of your wardrobe, to reveal a drawer behind it, and within this drawer was a single item: an old, ornate, large iron key. You told me it was
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