It has come to my attention that there are readers out there who have realised that I am prone to very...interesting travel experiences, and actually look forward to hearing my tales of terror (you sadistic sickos. --Editor). It has also come to my attention that there are readers out there who think I should stop whining about my travel mishaps and just take it up the tail pipe rather than posting off-topic travel rants to fill up space. So as a compromise, at the end of this post I've listed a few things I've learnt from my insanely long flight back to Britain.
Now, on with the medicine!
'Tis The Season To Self-Congratulate
It's time once again for the 2006 Medical Blog Awards! These awards are designed to honour the very best in the medical blogosphere, and to highlight the diverse world of medical blogs. Voting is now open, and I'm glad to see a few of my favourite medblogs are in the running. NHS Blog Doctor seems to have done very well, with nominations in 3 categories, a very good turnout for little over a year in blogging, as pointed out by Shiny Happy Person. SHP herself joins the good doctor in the nominations for Best Medical Weblog, along with such notables as Dr Sid Schwab, Doctor Anonymous and Dr Charles. I'd like also to point out here with some measure of pride *chest swells* that a medical student blog has also made it to this category, namely From Medskool. You're a credit to the race, brother! *thumps chest*
My only gripe with this year's Awards is that there's no Best Nursing Blog category. Some of the best medblogs out there are written by nurses, and they should be recognised in the same breath as doctors. The latest one to hit my (sadly lacking) sidebar is Travel Nurse, whose adventures in lands far, far away make trapped-in-ivory-tower me want to be a nurse. (*realises my lecturers read this blog* Sometimes! Only sometimes! --Ed)
Cambridge Admissions Results: 'Tis the Season for Heart Attacks
Cambridge admissions results are in the process of being sent out as I type this; in fact tomorrow, January 5th, is the two-year anniversary of the day I got my acceptance letter. I'd just like to take this opportunity to wish all of you who applied to Cambridge a hearty "good luck!" and if you get in, yay. If you don't, shout for joy! No, seriously. You don't know what you're getting into. It's for the best. Either way, if you feel like ranting and need someone to listen, you know where to drop me a line. (It's at angrymedic [at]gmail [dot]com, in case you don't. --Ed)
Bonus Travel Tale! Things You Learn On The Flight Into Britain
1. No matter how beautiful the bird's-eye view of nighttime London is, no matter how breathtaking the city's lights are, with the Thames snaking through the middle of it all and fireworks sprouting in the air below you, just because it all starts growing bigger, the runway appears beneath you and the plane extends its landing gear--
--doesn't mean it's not going to suddenly fire its jets and take back off into abovementioned nighttime sky, with the captain announcing that they had to abort landing to avoid crashing into the plane ahead of yours.
2. Just because you're safely out of the hellhole that is Heathrow Airport and sitting on a nice, warm coach with a group of nice old ladies all ready to get back home to Cambridge and a nice soft bed--
--doesn't mean that you're not going to be locked on abovementioned bus for half an hour because your driver has inexplicably run away and it takes that long for another National Express coach driver to discover you.
3. Just because you're home in abovementioned nice soft bed at 3am, the fireworks are dying down, and you're settling into bed after a long tiring journey--
--doesn't mean you're not going to be rudely awakened by a relentless drunkard banging on your front door trying to break in, on a night when the rest of the house isn't back in University yet and the police are busy chasing down bands of drunk students.
4. Just because you've hidden behind your door for 30 terrifying minutes whilst dialing the duty porter, and he finally comes to take care of the drunkard besieging your house--
--doesn't mean the porter isn't going to open the door, INVITE THE DRUNKARD IN, and give him a room for the night. NEXT TO YOURS.
UPDATE: Okay, I've kept you in suspense about the drunkard long enough. After about ten minutes of listening to him destroying furniture in the room next door, I called the porter to ask him what the heck he thought he was doing. He then nonchalantly told me the drunkard was actually a Jesus student who'd been temporarily given the room next to mine but was just too piss drunk to remember who he was. Or how to put keys into a keyhole.
Still want to come to Cambridge?
Happy New Year, folks. And don't forget to vote!
P.S. HospitalPhoenix Update: To all those who left comments about HospitalPhoenix, you will be relieved to know he is alive and well, as can be seen in the comments here. I for one am very relieved I can finally call off the police search.