Dear Frustrated colleague,
I see you. We all see you. And believe me we have all been there. Even if we pretend like we haven’t. Or like we can’t see the turmoil you are going through.
It was an effort not to look up when we saw you having a fight with your discharge letter. Yes I hate the new computer system too and no I don’t know why we can’t prescribe paracetamol either.
I have been watching you for a while now and I see how you missed lunch today, too busy dealing with the hypoglycameia of your patient in bed 3. In fact you often miss lunch or any other sort of break. 13 hours is a long time without any break.
I have also noted you always stay late, preferring not to hand anything over.
You don’t smile very much either. Even when you’re praised for picking up subtle signs. Even when the super scary super smart doctor praises you.
You have shared some of your woes with me. I see you aren’t that happy and this isn’t always what you signed up for. Menial ward jobs aren’t always the most stimulating I know.
I have also seen you with sick patients and scared patients.You were brilliant.
What you do does count. Your AMTS didn’t save the patients life but without that we wouldn’t have been able to see just how confused they were the next day and order a CT head and picked up their new bleed. You weren’t there to hear a thank you, and truthfully even if you were you probably would’t have got one. But what you do does matter and it does make a difference.
You’re a good doctor. You just need to look after yourself too with as much vigour as you do for your patients and you will enjoy the whole process more.
If we were better we would say this to your face. But we are all going through our own struggle to and the cape of help doesn’t always extend as far as it should in the NHS. When I just about get time to have my own sandwhich, I don’t always make sure that you have had yours. I will try to be better.
Accept this letter as my apology and advice, for what it’s worth.
See you back on the ward.