Posts Tagged ‘doctor’

Many people believe that in order to “make it” in the corporate rat race you have to possess certain essential skills that without which you cannot hope to survive: skills such as mathematics, computer literacy and good language skills. Other skills get sidelined as unnecessary, superfluous and extraneous (the extra adjectives are redundant I just wanted to show how gooder my language skills is). How often are we told that it is a waste to study subjects like Art or Music at school? How is that going to help us become a corporate banker? Probably the first subject on the chopping block is that of Drama.

However, having never studied Drama, because my school never offered it (and if it had, it was the type of school where studying such a subject would have resulted in getting the living snot kicked out of you) I can tell you that it is a skill I wish I possessed.

For there are times at work when the skills of the dramatically inclined are in great demand, for feigning interest for 8 hours a day, for pretending to find the boss’s jokes funny and not least of all making convincing “phoning in sick” calls.

We all know the feeling when we just need a day off, but don’t have the leave and all it will take to avoid the stress and boredom of another soul destroying day in the office is one simple phone call to the boss to say you’re not well. All of a sudden the skills of the dramatist become far more important than numeracy skills, a Microsoft Excel certification or snappy Powerpoint presentation abilities. This is pure, raw acting for survival.

It requires just the right amount of volume control, making your audience believe that every breath let alone every word is a struggle requiring every ounce of your concentration. The word to cough/splutter ratio is also important. Too few coughs and you don’t sound all that sick, but too many and you sound as if you’re faking it – this is acting on a knife’s edge.

There are a few easy ways out that the non actors amongst us have developed to try get around our obvious shortcomings and to avoid too much interrogation by our bosses: conditions such as “gastro”, “food poisoning” or the all too common, yet all medically undocumented, “24 hour flu”.

We feel like these ailments are too personal or disgusting for reproach, like the gender neutral equivalent to the “get out of jail (work) card” of “women’s problems”. A veritable “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation, if ever I’ve seen one. Men have been stuck without a gender specific truancy alibi because unfortunately “Men’s problems” such as “depressed about the soccer result” or “hung over” didn’t appear to be dire enough and so because most men, having been deprived of the opportunity to study drama, have resorted to these easy outs rather than applying themselves to more enterprising ailments.

However the overuse of these alibis has caused them to become synonymous with bunking and the shirking of work rather than the concern for health of one’s fellow employees (which is why we take sick days is it not?)

So I suppose the point is, let you children study drama and maybe attend a few adult classes yourself if you really want to get ahead in life. Failing, which just study really hard and become a doctor so you can write your own doctor’s notes.

Or at the very least become close friends with a doctor who could write you sick notes in times of need or a few undated ones – the blank cheque of time off. Just make sure he’s a medical doctor and not a psychiatrist. There is something a little disconcerting when you boss receives a sick note from your psychiatrist saying “Gareth is unwell and not suitable for work”


Hockey stick > my thumb

On Sunday, I had the unique experience of breaking my thumb, so forgive me if this blog post is not as happy go lucky and full of whimsy as previous posts. Furthermore you’ll have to pardon any spelling mistakes cased by my being hopped up on pain killers as well as the fact that I am mashing the keyboard with my new prosthetic thumb guard, stylish I know. I’m sure I don’t even have to ask your forgiveness for this particular post being late, because you’re all just so happy to hear I’m alive. I’m writing this from the worst hotel ever, the food is unimaginative, the TV’s only have 5 channels and there’s no mini bar. Plus I think it’s kind of pretentious how all the staff here call each other Doctor or Nurse.

So “what did I do?” appears to be the question on everyone’s lips. Well, it’s less about what I did and more about what was done to me. You see, for my health I decided to join a local hockey club who play matches on Sunday mornings. This particular morning we were playing a team about 30km outside of town (that fact has no bearing on the injury but was included to try build sympathy for me – is it working?)

The game starts and I’m on for about 20 seconds when a ball is deflected towards me at chest height. I have the situation well under control, until some Dickhead decides to take a full bodied crack at hitting the ball. He of course missed and struck me on the thumb. Cue bleeding, swearing and crying (the crying wasn’t me but the children watching and hearing the profanities that spewed from my mouth). Look I’m not proud of what I said… but I’m ^(&(*%$% impressed at both the diversity of the content and the tonal variety. That’s what &*%$%#^ elocution lessons will do.

Later I find out that the dickhead who broke my thumb is in fact a doctor. Thanks a lot Dr Dickhead! I’m pretty sure there’s a more subtle method of getting more patients. Off I go to try get some first aid, since there’s no one on duty and what do I find in the first aid kit? 2 six packs of beer and some ice.

I end up sitting on the bench the rest of the game before I get taken to hospital for X-rays. After waiting a few hours to be treated the doctor shows me the X-ray of my thumb which I thought was a satellite picture of the Nile delta. Now one doesn’t need to know too much about the structure of phalanges nor the river systems of North Africa to know that the two should not resemble each other. Compound fracture or as like to call it: FML.

Now I have the ever so stylish metal thumb guard splint for the next 2 weeks and then I still have to wait for the thing to heal. So no Xbox, Playstation or guitar for the next month, but most of all I’m worried that my dream of being a professional hitchhiker will never come true.

So don’t ever let someone convince you that sports are good for your health. Sit on your couch play those video games and occasionally give someone the occasional thumbs up and if you’re ever hitchhiking think of me.

I hope you enjoyed this post I give it the maximum rating… one thumbs up.