Last night when I was reading Bongi‘s blog (Other Things Amanzi), I came across his brutally hilarious (but freakishly realistic) post on (his sort of) “surgical principles”. Bongi is a general surgeon based in South Africa and though I see striking similarities between our “surgical worlds”, I found the guy’s witty and humorous ways of narrating his surgically bugged life, intriguingly interesting. Anyhow I’m particularly inspired (nah, copycat) by his post on how he came up with “his principles”. Not that I subscribe to all of these but most went straight out of his operating theater making it egoistically fascinating for us surgeons and surgeons neck peckers. The one thing that strike me most was this “flat” referral to his bloody (or organically graphic) reality and how he finds way to “enjoy” it ( at least once ) to the point of gas-tronomic absurdity.
So I thought, why not write about disarming eccentricities of provincial orthopedics too? I surely can make up a few wigwams out of my usually unusual orthopedic (mis)encounters. Obviously, these are anecdotal too and are tested only by me. Some may even be unique to the proverbial orthopedics to which I am helplessly thrown into. So Bongi, don’t care about my being a copycat. I call mine ‘ironic absurdities’ (instead of your principles) for Bonedoc anyway.
- You are (not only) the captain of your ship.
- Slowing down makes (near) perfect. Haste makes waste.
- Schedule surgeries on your vacations (and not on patient’s ‘ workdays).
- Flirt, to make surgeries less boring.
- It is always the some other surgeon’s fault. I mean, your “other” surgeon.
- Exercise outside OR.
- Have lots of fun, even when your obviously exploding in rage.
Somehow those are the more common situational ironies I can think of for now. Others, I will add (or subtract, depending on my gut feeling) up as soon as they hit me hard with a hammer. Some I actually relish now. I will link each of these absurdities to their individual post as soon as I figured it out of my mind and into my computer’s main memory. Hopefully,I will not kill my practice and blogging career with this ghastly concoction of experiential ironies .
