What Comes Next?

I have two jobs at the minute; I have writing work almost every day, and I’m still working some shifts back in cardiology (more-or-less down to one a week now, which is what I wanted before the old ‘rona). I’ve also taken up painting mannequin heads as a hobby (and I’ve sold a few!). Check

2020: Some Stuff Happened.

I officially left my contracted post as a nurse in December 2019. I had beautiful plans to really ramp up freelancing throughout 2020, staying on the staff bank for nursing shifts which I would gradually taper off in line with my earning more – enough, anyway – from writing. I was going to sit in

On Running +/- Zombies

I’ve always hated running. Even when I’ve been fairly fit I’ve never managed to get to the end of the street without my throat, lungs, knees, head, everything crying out in burning pain and rage. Running is bad for you. It has to be; it hurts. Runners’ bowels bleed, for goodness’ sake. Look it up.

Today I Am Proust

I am not getting out of bed today. I have a cold. Being ill is like falling in love. It is incapacitating, it gives you a headache, a stomachache, you eat too much or too little, you are surrounded by moist tissues and exuded body fluids, you dehydrate and medicate, and you stay in bed

RELISH YOUR IGNORANCE, FOR THENCE SPRINGS IMAGINATION

There is a sign advertising a psychic medium etched onto a glass fanlight on the high street. I have not knocked, and I probably never will, but it is very reassuring to know that there’s one there should I require their services. I started writing this, and then I Googled to find local psychics. I

New Year, Same Resolutions as Every Other New Year

The year is 2020. I should be writing that I’m living in a flying car-partment on the moon, or that we’ve achieved world peace or nuclear standoff or are living under cockroach rule. We might not be so far from the nuclear standoff. Instead, I’m trying to get back to work, in my normal non-flying

How to Work From Home

It’s easy to get on with it when you’re stuck into a job, when you’ve done the reading and you know what your references are going to be and you’ve given yourself a bit of time to develop a reasonably deep understanding of a subject so that you can just write what need to be

After The End

It was my last day – and last drugs round – yesterday. My colleagues secretly teamed up to put on a vegan buffet in The Big Cupboard (don’t tell the matron), and gave me flowers and gin and other lovely things. I forgot to take the flowers home as I’d put them in some water

Two Days To Go

I have not blogged recently; I have been too busy. Too busy! Busy with real, paid, reasonably consistent writing work! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! I have two days left at my job as a proper nurse, and so more hugs have been forthcoming. People have started wishing me luck in my new job, and I have

Seven Shifts Left

I’ve got seven shifts left, or eighteen meds rounds until I stop measuring time in terms of number of drugs rounds. Shift patterns mean that I’ve reached a stage where I’ve started working with people for the last time. If you work somewhere that does thirteen hour shifts, a lot of the staff might just