Reality GP , livre ebook

Troubador Publishing Ltd - B Moody Ken

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

126 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

In this age of reality TV, where the shallow pursuit of celebrity seems to be at the expense of talent and sincerity, this book comes as a breath of fresh air. Dr Moody's prose unwittingly, but most wittily, takes a swat at these 'fly-on-the-wall' shows. Following on from the relative success of View from the Surgery (well, most of his relatives managed to borrow a copy!) this second volume of tales from life in general practice details his 3-dimensional patients with all their genuine concerns, illnesses and foibles. Dr Moody does not offer up platitudes or placebos but gets to the heart of the condition each time, and with a warmth and humour that cannot be witnessed on any flat-screen TV.

Sujets

Short story

Informations

Publié par	Troubador Publishing Ltd
Date de parution	05 avril 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781780881638
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Dr Ken B. Moody

Reality GP
Copyright © 2010 David Carvel
The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study,
or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents
Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in
any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the
publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with
the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries
concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

Matador
9 Priory Business Park
Kibworth
Leicester LE8 9RX
Tel: 0116 2792299
Email: books@troubador.co.uk
Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

www.RealityGP.co.uk

Cover photo: www.Trahenna.com and Biggar Museums Trust.

Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd
To friends, family and other patients.
FOREWORD

Neither Dr Moody or I could have predicted that, little over a year after the publication of View from the Surgery , there would have been the demand (let alone the appetite) amongst readers for a second volume of his tales and anecdotes. I never had any doubt there would be sufficient material and, as we've both always maintained, the surgery is an endless source of material worth preserving for posterity and amusement, even within the bounds of confidentiality.
How one judges success never particularly troubled us, but we were uncertain whether there would be a readership sufficiently motivated to return to a book, that was never designed to be read at the one sitting. People seem to prefer endless sagas about others’ lives and problems, whether real or otherwise. Authors, even before Dickens, were fully aware of this and wrote accordingly, often in installments, keeping readers on the edges of their seats.
In these increasingly busy and hectic times, most bibliophiles say they wish to be captivated by, or escape to, a world conjured up by the imagination of an author. Dr Moody claims very little in the way of imagination, originality or creativity and prefers to consider his writings as recordings of actual consultations and events, albeit from his rather wry perspective. As he once remarked: “My patients are rarely dull folk and certainly more colourful than their old, grey physician-and I don't mean in a jaundiced, cyanotic, plethoric or pallid sort of way!”
Publishers were generally impressed by the sales of “View” but remained a little unconvinced that a book written by a doctor that does not remotely resemble an academic tome, family medical book or murder mystery with a dysfunctional central character, appeals to a wider audience.
I do not purport to describe this book as even a modest contribution to the literature and it counts among those rejected by the posher publishing houses. The usual reason given was that a series of articles previously appearing in newspapers, over many years, does not necessarily come together naturally as a book. One languid, cheroot-smoking (though he was quickly asked to extinguish it!) fellow of some literary influence told me in a restaurant on George Street, that both books “are rather too much for one's senses to take in.” I agreed, to the extent that they are indeed an eclectic mix of subjects and patients, but argued that this is a fair representation of an average day in general practice, as I know it. Doctors have to learn to adapt to dealing with life and death matters one minute, followed by indignant patients kept waiting with their crinkly toenails, the next. Perhaps I am the Watson to his Holmes and I have heard Dr Moody rue the fact that nowadays patients are often not apportioned the time they deserve. We would love to have the luxury of time to deliberate, like the great detective himself when he declared: “It is quite a three-pipe problem, and I beg that you won’t speak to me for fifty minutes.”
Each of these thousand-word essays, or chapters, takes almost exactly as long to read as a standard consultation lasts. Dr Moody could not readily be regarded as modern and rarely watches TV, but in some ways he writes like a “Reality GP.” I believe he invites us to sit in his chair, don his wire spectacles and enter into the fascinating world of general practice.
It has been obvious to me that the quality of Ken’s writing has improved. The old fellow was always a bit more than semi-literate but he seems to have gained a poetry to his pen, a vocation for his vocabulary and a niche for his narration.(Such clichéd alliteration is perhaps illustrative of why I am not a writer!) It is my considered opinion, however, that this book is at least as good as its predecessor but I am happy to let you, the reader, decide for yourself.
Whether this book should be seen as a sequel, a prequel or the potential script for a long-running radio drama, I do not know, but there seemed rather less for me to do in the preparation and, consequently, I declined to take credit for its editing. If there is ever a third volume, I suspect I will be asked politely to take a seat in the waiting room.
The marketing of the first book was an unanticipated pleasure. Doctors are not natural salespeople. I think we are generally too modest and reserved to promote products; and Scottish medics probably to an even greater degree. Doctors in this country are not, of course, allowed to advertise their own services but find there is rarely the need. Patients are rarely slow to seek us out in surgery.
Much was learned in the months following the release of View from the Surgery but, more importantly, tremendous fun was had all round. The chapter Selling One’s Book within these pages gives a certain insight into this.
Once again, I urge readers not to attempt to “experience” all these chapters at the one sitting. Doctors tend to restrict ourselves to a dozen or so patients per surgery but sometimes obligingly allow a few more to be added. If it all gets a little too much, stop, breathe deeply and go and make yourself a cup of tea. There will always be cases waiting for you when you get back and there is often benefit in seeing things afresh. No matter how familiar you think you are with the human condition, like your attentive and kindly GP, you will never fail to be surprised.

David Carvel
Biggar 2009
Part 1

Be hind the Surgery Door
Being Detached

“How do you detach yourself from being affected by the tragedies and upsets your patients suffer, Dr Ken?” It was a question I get asked and wonder myself sometimes as to the answer. Ms Hart, as a patient and as a person, always took things personally and would be deeply affected by the misfortunes that life threw. You could almost say that Olive-May Hart wore her heart on her sleeve. She had been in nursing for a year or two but found the “emotional” side of things too troubling. She herself had indeed endured an astonishing catalogue of personal and family illness and loss but was finally reaching the end of her tether.
It is true that doctors are renowned for their apparent ability to remain calm and focused, even under the most trying of circumstances. Blood, guts and gore generally don't turn doctors' stomachs. We may be witness to the appalling consequences of: sustained, isolated or random assault; domestic violence; marital breakdown; childhood cancers; road accidents; parental neglect or indifference; elder abuse; the violation of housebreaking; rape; unfair dismissal; vexatious complaint; malicious gossip; grievous bodily harm; financial debt and repossession; drug and alcohol addiction; sudden or unexplained death and murder and suicide. The average general practitioner may not, of course, have to deal with the aftermath of all of these in a single week or even in a year but could almost certainly recall involvement with patients subject to each or several of these.
There is no doubt, we see the best and worst in people and human nature in this job. I am sure the police, fire and ambulance services could say the same but medics are in a fairly unique position where we see and help people through the initial, middle and later stages of crisis and suffering. We know how difficult anniversaries, Christmases and “would have been” birthdays are, when loss has been experienced. Sometimes we are best to just sit back and listen but we have to be vigilant for developing depression or other illnesses.
Doctors are not social workers, counsellors or an advice bureau. We cannot find accommodation, befriend, provide transport, ensure maximum benefits and entitlements or be a voice on the end of the phone in the middle of the night. Those who have tried have not been able to sustain such benevolence, have ultimately caused disappointment or had advantage taken of their good natures. But most importantly, it has meant other patients have not been given due time and attention. I cannot allow my mind to wander when the very next patient may be brewing their own illness or crisis. I cannot pretend though that some cases don’t affect me deeply. I may lie in bed staring at the cobwebs in the cornice or find myself mulling over whether I might not have acted differently in surgery. Perhaps I should have read between the lines where physical illness was a manifestation of deeper emotional pain or I might have offered a more empathetic or kindly word of advice.
I think the crucial element to surviving as a doctor is to have a degree of emotional detachment. It would be entirely unfair to my family were I to return home each evening wrecked from what I had seen and heard that day in surgery. I cannot weep buckets for patients. It would be unfair on other patients if my bin was full of my moist paper hankies by ten o’clock each morning. I must remain objective and impartial. This can be difficult if I have known a family for years