OPEN ACCESS: All - Des Spence, general practitioner, Glasgow
- destwo{at}yahoo.co.uk
I stubbed out my cigarette and fell into sleep, and into my recurring dream of drowning. Sweating, I jerked awake, my pager bleeping, its wicked green numbers flashing the number of the ward I had just left. I bleeped.⇑
The unspoken intention of residency was to systematically break you—a compassionless humiliation to eradicate any foolish arrogance of youth, to ingrain emotional detachment, to aspire for nothing more than just to sink or swim. It was hard to “care” in this professional darkness. I clung to caring; lived by the junior …
Sign in
Article access
Article access for 1 day
Purchase this article for £20 $30 €32*
The PDF version can be downloaded as your personal record
PDF
Social bookmarking