Well the last patient has been seen, the last blood sample has been taken, and the last prescription has been signed. Because today was my final day as a GP and it’s now time for me to say a fond farewell to medicine, the NHS and East Quay Medical Centre.
Recently several people have foolishly asked if I would be singing a song to mark my retirement from medicine – and sadly for you, the answer to that question is ‘Yes’! But before I inflict it upon you, can I first say how grateful I am to all those I have worked alongside these past 27 years. It has been a real privilege to be a part of East Quay, made up as it always has been by so many wonderfully supportive people. I have hugely appreciated the friendship of colleagues, both past and present, and the many kindnesses shown to me by the patients who have had to put up with me as their GP. Together they have made my time at East Quay a very enjoyable one and there will, therefore, be much that I will miss about the practice in the months and years after my departure. Thank you too for all those who have recently sent me cards, gifts and kind messages – you really shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did! I am genuinely touched by your generosity. It is very much appreciated.
During my time at East Quay there have been many funny incidents. One of my favourites happened some years ago on a day that began with me performing a minor op. As I was administering the local anaesthetic. the syringe came off the needle and I ended up spraying a little of the anaesthetic into the eye of the HCA who was assisting me at the time. Perhaps inevitably, that HCA was Doreen.
Happily the procedure continued without further incident but an hour or so later I was calling another patient from the waiting room when, out of sight of everyone else, Doreen saw me and started pretending to have a problem with her vision. There she was, winking and grimacing at me in an exaggerated fashion, just like some latter day pirate.
‘Who do you think you are?’ I asked, loudly enough for everyone in the waiting room to hear, ‘Long John Silver?’
At which point the patient I’d just called, reached me…complete with his false leg and a very pronounced limp. Fortunately he saw the funny side!
Of course not everything that takes place in a GP surgery is as amusing. I am conscious of the many patients who have experienced great hardship and deep sadness in their lives. And I am aware that some still do. Sadly I have not been able to help all these dear people as much as I would have liked, and regrettably this has sometimes been as a result of my own failings. In my time as a doctor I have undoubtedly made many mistakes – and to those affected by them I offer an unreserved apology. Even so I hope that there will be others who, on occasions, will have found something I have done at least a little helpful. If that is the case, then I will be heartened by the fact, as it will mean that my work will not have been without some value.
Medicine is a wonderful thing – it is the means by which many have had their health restored and their lives extended and I myself am immensely grateful to those who ministered care to me when I had a prolonged stay in hospital nearly ten years ago. But despite its best efforts, medicine cannot deliver all that we would like it to – not only because of the inevitable fallibility of those who work in healthcare, but also because of medicine’s own inherent limitations.
If 32 years as a doctor has taught me anything it is that medicine ultimately fails us all. And so I can’t help thinking that we need something more than medicine, something that can deliver what medicine cannot. I happen to believe that there is such a thing – or rather such a one. Whilst recognising how invaluable doctors and nurses are, I am one of those peculiar people who call themselves a Christian, and so my ultimate hope is not in medicine but in the God who has promised that a day is coming when our every tear will be wiped away and death will be no more. And when that day finally does arrive, as it surely one day will, oh how wonderful it will be that nobody will ever be in need of a doctor again!
And so, as I now leave East Quay in the very capable hands of those who I am sure will, to the very best of their ability, continue to provide the good folk of Bridgwater with all the medical care that they need, I am absolutely delighted to be able to look forward to December 1st when I will, God willing, begin working with the Slavic Gospel Association [SGA], an organisation that supports the church in Eastern Europe, Central Asia and Far Eastern Russia. Furthermore, by partnering with those who live in such far off parts of the world, they also provide much needed aid through numerous relief projects whilst seeking at the same time to proclaim the gospel, the good news, of the salvation that I believe was won, for all who will receive it, through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
You can read more about SGAs work at www.sga.co.uk and more about the gospel in a blog I wrote earlier this year. Entitled ‘Foolishness – Law and Gosepl’, it can be found here.
And so to that final song that I hinted at earlier. As some of you will be all too well aware, I have in recent years gone public on Facebook with my woeful attempts at singing and playing the guitar, an endeavour made all the more foolish by my lack of any discernible ability in either of these two disciplines. Most who have experienced my pathetic efforts will have tried to erase the painful memory of them from their mind, but it does perhaps seem appropriate to reproduce here the lyrics of one which was written a year or two ago in anticipation of the retirement that is now upon me.
As one day I’ll retire when my working days are done,
I’ve got a little list, I’ve got a little list,
Of people I will want to thank, who’ve made my job such fun,
They’ll all of them be missed, they’ll all of them be missed,
There’s the patients who forgave me for mistakes that were my fault,
The folk who every Christmas gave me smokey single malt,
And those who every morning, at half ten knocked on my door,
And brought me cups of coffee and those biscuits I adore,
They’re none of them draconic, those kind receptionists
They’ll all of them be missed – they’ll all of them be missed.
I’ve got ’em on the list — I’ve got ’em on the list;
And they’ll all of ’em be missed — they’ll all of ’em be missed.
And then there are the nurses who were always sympathetic,
I’ve got them on my list, I’ve got them on my list,
When I got into a pickle managing a diabetic,
They’ll all of them be missed, they’ll all of them be missed,
The HCAs who helpfully squeezed in those ECGs,
And never made me beg for one whilst down upon my knees,
The times when I had issued drugs whilst just a tad distracted,
And someone pointed out the way they may have interacted,
Indeed I am so grateful to our helpful pharmacists,
I know that they’ll be missed – I’m sure that they’ll be missed.
I’ve got ’em on the list — I’ve got ’em on the list;
And they’ll all of ’em be missed — they’ll all of ’em be missed.
The team up there in admin, those who type what I dictate,
I’ve got them on my list, I’ve got them on my list
Who hear the words I mumble that they’ll first have to translate,
Though I sent them round the twist, they’ll all of them be missed,
The practice manager who I have driven up the wall,
By not reading my emails and by changing my on call,
My partners who I have been glad to have close by my side,
Who’ve been there as I’ve laughed a lot, who’ve been there as I’ve cried,
Well I am very sure now that you all have got the gist,
They’ll all of them be missed, they’ll all of them be missed.
I’ve got ’em on the list — I’ve got ’em on the list;
And they’ll all of ’em be missed — they’ll all of ’em be missed.
But in the unlikely event that this homage to Gilbert and Sullivan is not more than enough for you, I offer up below my last attempt at carrying a song, one that, should it not be apparent, is an adaption of ‘I am a cider drinker’ by Somerset’s finest agriculturally inspired folk band, the Wurzels.
Undoubtedly you all deserve far better than this but I’m afraid it’s the best I can muster. However, despite the poor musical quality, this ‘song’ comes with my heartfelt appreciation of and fond affection for each and every one of you. It has been an honour to have played a small part in your lives.
Thank you.
Other related posts:
To read ‘The way ahead – from EQMC to SGA’, click here
To read ‘On Approaching One’s Sell By Date’, click here
To read ‘Three Times a Patient’, click here
To read ‘From a distance – reflections as the nights start drawing in’, click here
To read ‘Foolishness – Law and Gospel’, click here
A selection of tall tales based around my experiences at East Quay Medical Centre:
To read ‘The Dr Scrooge Chronicles’, incorporating both ‘A Primary Care Christmas Carol’ and ‘Scrooge in the time of Coronavirus’, click here
To read ‘Mr Benn – the GP’, click here
To read ‘A GP called Paddington’, click here
To read ‘Scooby Doo and the Deserted Medical Centre’, click here
To read ‘Paddington and the Ailing Elderly Relative’, click here
To read ‘Dr Jonathan Harker and the post evening surgery home visit’, click here
To read ‘Bagpuss and the NHS’, click here
To read ‘Jeeves and the Hormone Deficiency’, click here
To read ‘the day LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD got sick’, click here
To read ‘The Three Little GPs and the Big Bad Secretary of State for Health’, click here
To read ‘The NHS Emporium’, click here
To read ‘The Dead NHS Sketch’, click here
To read ‘Dr Wordle and the Mystery Diagnosis’, click here
To read ‘A Mission Impossible’, click here
To read ‘The State of Disrepair Shop’, click here
Other medically themed blogs:
To read ‘Vaccinating to remain susceptible’, click here
To read ‘General Practice – still a sweet sorrow’, click here
To read ‘Professor Ian Aird – A Time to Die’, click here
To read ‘On Not Remotely Caring’, click here
To read ‘Contactless’, click here
To read ‘The Abolition of General Practice’, click here
To read ‘Eleanor Rigby is not at all fine’, click here
To read ‘On being overwhelmed’, click here
To read ‘General Practice – is time running out?’, click here
To read ‘Blaming it on the Boogie’, click here
To read ‘Health – it’ll be the death of us. Is there institutional arrogance in the NHS?’, click here
To read ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’, click here
To read ‘When the Jokes on You’, click here
To read ‘With great power…’, click here
A selection of blogs on Christian themes:
To read ‘The Resurrection – is it just rhubarb?’, click here
To read “Hope comes from believing the promises of God”, click here
To read ‘Faith and Doubt’, click here
To read ‘What becomes of the broken hearted? Sorrowful yet always rejoicing on Palm Sunday’, click here
To read ‘Why do bad things happen to good people? Sorrowful yet always rejoicing on Good Friday’, click here
To read ‘Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things? Rejoicing, though temporarily sorrowful, on Easter Day’, click here.
To read ‘T.S. Eliot, Jesus and the Paradox of the Christian Life’, click here
To read “Why do bad things happen to good people – a tentative suggestion”, click here
To read “Suffering- A Personal View”, click here.
To read “Luther and the global pandemic – on becoming a theologian of the cross”, click here
To read ‘The Sacrifice of Isaac – Law or Gospel?’, click here
To read ‘Water from a Rock’, click here
To read ‘Real Power’, click here
To read ‘The Promise Keeper’, click here
To read ‘The Rainbow’s End’, click here
To read ‘True Love?’, click here
To read, ‘But this I know’, click here
To read ‘I’ll miss this when I’m gone – extended theological version’, click here
To read ‘On being confronted by the law’, click here
To read ‘The “Already” and the “Not Yet”’, click here
To read ‘Rest Assured’, click here
A few other general posts:
To read ‘Lewis Capaldi – Retired Hurt: The Need for Kindness’, click here
To read ‘A Sorrow Shared’, click here
To read ‘An Audience for Grief’, click here
And finally some other EQMC and medicine related ‘songs’ as well a few other sundry videos:
Some musings 