Ok. Today seemed to go well. Just to update the curious, I’m at a London hospital doing an elective in Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery. Or ‘Dentistry’ as it’s known to doctors. Having gone to bed at around 10pm yesterday (after a bath and a DVD I ran out of ideas about how to pass the time), was up bright and early at 6.20am. Not counting all the times during the night being woken by the delightful sounds of London. Mostly car alarms, drunk people and anonymous buzzing noise. It was either leave the window open or die of suffocation. As I seem to still have a pulse I think this was the right choice. Four years at medical school and I can safely diagnose that I am still alive. Yay!
As the student office didn’t open until 9.30 and I couldn’t do anything before enrolling and getting my ID, this morning was on the whole leisurely. On my way out I met another student (sweet thing from Berlin, here for three weeks doing Obs and Gynae). Nice to know I’m not the only one here. Having negotiated ‘campus’ (or ‘Central London’), student office identified, photo taken and badge collected. It was great spending the day wearing the same outfit as on the badge. Well, I was amused. Possibly just me. Despite pointing it out to people. Everyone’s so humourless in London.
This morning consisted of meeting my consultant, who I continue to regard as some kind of demi-God. Not just because he is a Consultant, and as such this status is conferred in his contract, but because he is how I hope to be when I grow up. Completely scatty and got ‘projects’ coming out his ears. We managed to find each other, he showed me some ‘other students’ (his PhD students and another elective visitor), then pointed me at clinic. I was there for six hours before we all agreed that maybe 2.15pm was time for lunch. Didn't bother going back as it then took me most of the afternoon to sort out my rent payments and other admin. In short, the rent I was quoted was for four weeks not eight (my fault). Re-negotiated for six weeks (acceptable). However the rent quoted initially was eighty squids short of what the rent actually is. So I have found myself in a bit of a financial pickle and plan to spend the rest of my elective prowling the streets of London, eating dropped clementines and potatoes at Borough Market and begging Special Brew on Brick Lane.
Anyone who is actually worrying about me having to sell myself on the streets, fear not for I have contingency plan (thank you Risk Assessment!). I am due some funding, just waiting for it to turn up. But am safe in the knowledge that the Mother is not too far away and visits aren’t restricted to just in case of military coup. Mummy will save me. And anyway, I have a cupboard full of tins of tuna, soup and beans. And I even remembered a tin-opener.
Another pleasant surprise today was seeing an old friend. We met during my first degree in London so it was a bit nostalgic. She normally works from home but occasionally has to make visits to the London office, so I took the opportunity to show her around chez moi. Cue 10 Richmond Menthols and a delightful bottle of wine. London is starting to feel a tad less threatening, but we both ended up reminiscing about why we left and don't ever want to move back. I’m now not quite so much looking forward to doing a dental degree back down here and am starting to understand the ‘let’s go and be a GP in the countryside’ mentality. Jeez, the Midlands has made me soft.
I seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time just staring into space.
After having sat staring into space for a good three minutes before becoming intractably bored, I have resolved to be more productive. As such I have just spent the last few hours painting the most ghastly self-portrait ever. Let me explain; as part of my time down here, what with having arty inclinations and all, I wanted to do something creative. A friend and I hatched a poorly thought out plan about putting together an exhibition. Now, I must hand it to her, she has done it before. Twice. So I am confident that she can do her part and organise it. I have been put in place as ‘Artist’. This is the bit I’m now having second thoughts about. I don’t get much time to do any art these days and mainly stick to doing low-brow obscenities and doodles. We are going to finalise exactly what we plan to do for this exhibition on Thursday, so until then I thought it would be good to get in a little practice. I will try and upload the creation at the end of this post. I don’t mean to be one of those moany ‘oh, it’s so shit’ artists, but in all honesty, this is far from my best work. But, on the flip side (I’m cursed, infected with Positive Mental Attitude), this is just a start. The idea is to improve from here. I have managed to use ALL of the colours. Now I just have to master putting them together into a portrait rather than what I’d see if I looked into a gypsy crystal ball and she started screaming “she-devil!!”
I need to find a life-drawing class down here. Preferably one that’s free. There’s only so many self-portraits I can do before I get permanently sucked up my own bum hole. I also need to organise a Jaffa Cake rationing system that’s agreeable to everyone. By everyone I mean me and hungry me. I also also need to try and pin down Mr Consultant and demand careers advice and possibly art advice. I also also also need to get out more.
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