Half Marathon Chris

I’ve been steadily getting more interested in fitness, running, and healthy living. Over the last couple of years, I’ve lost a decent chunk of weight, and started running and cycling a lot more. I still sweat like a geriatric horse, unfortunately.

In the last 18 months I’ve completed my first Triathlon, my first 10K road race, and this weekend, my first Half Marathon…

Bad Medicine: Why the doctors are striking.

I am a big believer in Good Medicine.

Notice the capital “M”? We all know about “medicine”, which often takes the form of tablets that help you to get better. But Medicine is the art of getting people better. Learning Good Medicine is a process of skilled training that takes doctors decades of experience, practice, mistakes and reflection.

What next? How we save the NHS.

The Government, and Jeremy Hunt, have imposed the new Junior Doctor contract.

In so doing, they continue to demonstrate their terrifying lack of respect for the commitment and intelligence of the 53,000 junior doctors who work for the NHS, not to mention the 377,000 nurses, 97,000 senior doctors and 74% of of the general public who seem to understand that if we lose significant numbers of juniors, the whole system will collapse…

So, what’s next? I’m not in charge of the BMA, but here’s my proposal…

The junior doctors aren’t striking for themselves.

This week, the junior doctors are going on strike. Again.

Most of the people reading this won’t know why. All these professionals, who claim to be committed to caring for some of the most vulnerable in our society, why would they refuse to turn up to work?

‘Will I Be Able to See You Next Time?’

Or… “Why patients miss having a regular doctor, and how the new junior doctor contract risks making the situation worse.”

Despite being nearly thirty, married for nearly a decade, with two children, I am a “junior” doctor. Technically, I am a GP Registrar. It’s written on my door, and none of my patients understand what it means. I often get the joke “Does that mean you can marry us after you’ve listened to my chest?”.

Looking back at 2015

I’ve started to write this on December 30th, sitting on a train in Lincolnshire at 7:30am, on my way to work. It’s still completely dark outside, and half the country is still on holiday. I feel slightly jarred, like the alarm clock went off, but no one else has had to get up.

Feeling disjointed is somewhat appropriate – it aids my reflections on the last 12 months.

Six kilos in six weeks: the final push.

Not well. For some reason, emotionally, I just had a terrible weekend. I decided that a strict diet was not going to improve my mood, so I took off the brakes. I’d like to note that on both days I was still careful with my breakfast calories, avoiding having too big a meal at night, and generally still applied a modicum of self control.

I still, pretty impressively, managed miss my deficit target by 2540kcal in two days. In context? I was aiming to eat just 2400kcal, and I was 2540kcal over that target. More than doubling it. I’m really good at this eating thing, eh?