A number of my fellow bloggers have written in the last few days about Nora of Black Dog Knits fame. The blogger who was a medical student, then qualified, who married her doctor fiance, who knitted, designed, took photos, wrote poetry etc etc etc. I wondered how she managed to do all she did AND study medicine and mentioned that in one of my posts a couple of years ago. She replied that she wasn’t Wonderwoman; just well organised.
Well we now know that she certainly wasn’t Wonderwoman. Her whole life as laid out in her blog was a figment of her imagination and she’s made a couple of appearances in court lately charged (and pleading guilty) to impersonating a doctor.
Mary-Helen tells the whole story here. And Nora’s blog appears to have disappeared in the last day or so.
But this reminded me of a doctor I met last year when I had my accident. I was on a cardiac ward for the first night (the only free bed they could find), just being kept safe and pain free until I had my operation the next morning. During the night a young rather frenetic doctor turned up at my bedside saying he needed to take some blood. As he was about to do this, I vomited. Then I vomited again. He was getting a bit impatient but he eventually managed to get a syringe full and rushed off.
I rang the bell for the nurse who cleaned me up and I commented on this young man’s lack of bedside manners and how he seemed in such a rush.
The next morning, another doctor arrived to see me and explained she had to take some blood as the sample I’d given in A & E the night before had got contaminated, or lost. Can’t remember what the reason was. I asked her about the sample I’d given in the night which intrigued her. Which doctor? Did he give his name? She’d check the records and the lab. When she returned she told me there was no record kept of the visit and no blood sent to the lab. By this time the nurse who’d been on duty during the night had left so wasn’t able to be questionned, and then off I went to surgery. I forgot all about this visit for about two weeks so I never did find out whether the young man was a REAL doctor or “doing a Nora”. But if the latter, I got the last laugh as I threw up over him, twice!