At one of my clinics last week I was lucky enough to have a trainee Doctor in with me. During their time in the G.P surgery these mini medics have to orientate with all the disciplines, I suspect that they are not always happy with their roving lot but this new doc made the most of her short time with me and at the end of a long clinic thanked me and told me how much she had enjoyed it. I had enjoyed having her in the clinic with me as she was obviously really interested and wanted to learn what midwives get up to. Today I was pleased to see her happy face as I did my usual last minute dash into the surgery, and even more pleased when she asked if she could join me again in my clinic. This time I encouraged her to do the practical elements of the appointments, after all next week she will be seeing patients with no supervision , so better that she flexed her knowledge and practice whilst I was there to support her and answer any questions she was unsure of the answers to. I hope she enjoys the rest of her time at our surgery and that she continues to be the really human, grass roots practitioner that she is now and doesn’t lose her enthusiasm for her chosen profession and the people that she encounters.
My job-share of 6 years has now retired and, wonders of wonders, a new job-share has been appointed. Okay, so she won’t be starting for a couple of months but in Health Service terms that is amazingly fast, and it’s someone I know, very well in fact. Yes, it’s the midwife who helped my first Grandchild into the world. We have worked together in the same team before the birth of her first child so at least we won’t have to go through all the getting used to each other aspects of a job-share, and, if our 90 minute phone conversation this evening was anything to go by, communication should not be difficult.
Today I visited my couple who had suffered a stillbirth 3 weeks ago. They are still amazingly philosophical about baby dying but I do worry that they have shut themselves away from the world. Apart from their parents and me they have not spoken to any friends or relations since the trauma as they don’t want to keep telling the story of what happened. I can understand, but it does worry me. I am no bereavement expert so am not sure what my reaction should be, and how I can help them through the ‘re-socialising’ phase of their grief so, as usual I just went with gut-instinct and told them I could understand their reluctance to feed what they are seeing as a ghoulish fascination with the details regarding the loss of their baby. Physically all is well so I could have discharged her today but instead I’ve told them that I shall keep them as a case until after the post mortem results are received so, if they need to, they can call me round to have a chat. At least with me there are no explanations needed, I know why I’m there and we can talk about things as much as they need to. It’s so, so difficult though. I am naturally one of these really weepy people and in these scenarios I often find myself on the point of joining in with the tears, I have to swallow so hard to hold it back that I end up with a sore throat, and I’m not always successful entirely covering up the fact that my emotions are attempting to take over. It’s their grief, their tragedy and I should be there being strong, impossible.
One week today, the twins will be born. I’ve got butterflies. Heaven only knows how daughter and son-in-law feel.