I have spent today at the very impressive Royal College of General Practice's annual conference. I made notes during the sessions I went to, and was struck by the amount of rich language the presenters used.
Having spent all day amongst highly skilled medical folk, the artist in me has rebelled, and created this found poem out of the words I have heard today. Enjoy.
Having spent all day amongst highly skilled medical folk, the artist in me has rebelled, and created this found poem out of the words I have heard today. Enjoy.
Index of Suspicion
The starting point… stabilise the crisis.
Big potential. Pathways.
Replace hierarchy.
Reset the relationship.
Meaningfully changed; involve patients in problems.
Patients are not the enemy.
We are the solution.
Maximise wasted promises.
Get back; stabilising; survive surgeries.
There is a delay.
Most bad mouthed?
Don’t condone denigration.
Urgent care.
Going up despite going down.
The right people
sinking.
Health inequalities.
Harming healthy.
Doubt that the dam can be strengthened.
There is a delay
dealing with doctor anxiety.
Blood tests as a safety blanket.
Index of suspicion or virtuous circle?
All-cause mortality, additional burden.
A gift to prevent sending them home with nothing.
The take home message…
Everything is important.
Patients are people.
Collaborative care;
health gets worse as time spent caring increases.
Forward view; we are the solution.
No more important job in Britain.
