Last time I wrote, I talked about the Storming Norman theory of group dynamics. Four weeks have flown by since then, and suddenly I’ve realised I have a lot to write about.
Aliyah remains fabulous but odd; as I fully expected, it doesn't have the magic of Israel tour or a gap year, but in a way, that IS the magic - that this is normal life. Things tick along, you meet people, you study (and hopefully soon work), all in Israel. It's Israel! Home!
Having read through the old entries, I can’t believe that I forgot to mention the job offer! Right at the end of the first entry I mentioned how I’d emailed a Professor to enquire about jobs, and barraging him with dozens of questions about the training process, salaries, hours, responsibilities and so on, of working in Israel. I got a rather short reply back, telling me that it was easier to meet in person, and ask face to face. So, one afternoon in our first few weeks, Deborah and I hopped on a bus to Givat Shmuel, a very religious town just outside Tel Aviv, with a copy of a CV quickly flung together and updated to express a life-long yearning to be a GP. Having dumped Deborah at a coffee and crepe shop (no complaints there), I walked over to the Professor’s clinic. ‘The Prof’ as he will be called hereonin, is the Head of the Family Medicine training programme for one of the four health funds in Israel. So, meeting him was a little scary.
We sat down as soon as he got back from afternoon prayers; he knew I’d be early because ‘Englishmen always are’, but nonetheless still didn’t make it back in time for the meeting. We waited for a colleague of his who has served in the army and might be able to answer some questions about my service, and then we chatted for over an hour and half, about life, medicine, aliyah, the UK, families, ambitions, and everything in between. It was all very informal, with jokes, complaints, light-hearted banter etc. So, at the end of the meeting, when I asked how I should go about applying for a job, I was somewhat taken aback to see him laugh, look at his colleague briefly, and answer ‘you just did. And you’ve got one.’
So, that’s that. I haven’t accepted the job offer, because I’m not ready until after ulpan, another special medical ulpan, and then the army, which takes me up to 2012. The job is only guaranteed until the end of this year, so it’s not the most useful job offer... but it’s fantastic to know that there’s hope!
On the subject of medicine, the break from work was great until last week, when I saw a bloke on the bus trying to examine his own X ray film. Given the relaxed confidentiality rules here, it’s quite usual for patients to transport their own results, and even blood samples, between clinics, labs and hospitals. Watching this elderly gentleman hold his own lung fields upside down and back to front, clearly having no clue what the significance of the left middle lobe consolidation and right lower atelectasis could be, I got a pang of sadness at what I'm missing; which was really bizarre. I get consulted on a daily basis in the absorption centre, usually by Russians with colds, occasionally with a suspected appendicitis, cellulitis, or alcohol related injury. I get no satisfaction from that and usually tell them to piss off and stop wasting my time... and tell them to pay 7 sheks to see their own Doc if they really think it’s necessary. But seeing the X ray made me think of the hospital, real medicine, a challenge, and a chance to make a difference. All in good time, I suppose.
It’s a little ironic then, that I've applied for a training post in 'Family medicine'. Although not as exciting as the hospital life, I really enjoyed my GP placements, and frankly, my priorities in life are changing. I love hospital work now, but down the line, I want the freedom to spend time with my (bli neder) family, to be my own boss, and to feel a connection to my patients; I want to be in a place where my patients bring their kids to see me, and maybe in another generation, the kids bring their kids. If our dream to live in a small place in the North comes to fruition, then I can see that happening. In the meantime, I have 2 years of hospital medicine to do (at least), during training, plus 18 months of army, plus my annual reserve duty. So the pressure medicine isn't over just yet.
The application forms, as of two days ago, are officially in the hands of משרד הבריאות (the ministry of health), along with my destiny in Israel. It is up to them – assuming they don’t lose the forms meanwhile – to give me my license and open the gates of Israeli medicine. All in good time!
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