Manners Maketh Man

I had a Headmistress at Primary School who would say this phrase to us:

"Manners Maketh Man!" 

At the time, I knew I was being told to be polite but didn't really analyse it further. Until this week. Oh, this week! 

I have to say that I've had two of the rudest experiences totally out of the blue this week that I've ever been subject to from total strangers. In both cases, I had done something really silly - so maybe I deserved the response? 

Scenario One

You're driving down a road on your estate. It's a narrow road and you have to turn left at the end of it. When you look right to turn left there are cars everywhere and it's pretty difficult to see much further than a few metres. You think it's clear, though you realise you were struggling, and you pull out. 

A car comes from the right, very quickly so it wasn't in your eye-line when you checked. You've pulled out in front of him and he has to slow down to your speed. He's not happy. Oops! You can see him gesticulating in the mirror behind. You breathe, try not to respond and hope he'll be going a different way at the round about. 

At the round about, he pulls up alongside you. He winds down his window (on a cold morning) just so he can shout and swear at you, telling you to "USE. YOUR. EYES." 

Scenario Two

You're shopping late one night. There's hardly anyone around. You finish trying things on in the changing room and you go outside to the desk where someone will assist you putting back the things you don't want. You're tired, and you've not got a good hold of the items you were trying so you lean them on the desk, prior to engaging with the assistant. You look up and a girl also by the desk is glaring at you, a few items of clothing in her hands. "I was actually here first," she tells you, angrily. 

In both of these scenarios I undoubtedly got something wrong. In the first scenario the results could have even been dangerous. I tried to get it right and didn't mean harm but I bothered and offended people. People who were rushing and didn't have time for my mistakes. 

Both times I felt a bit shaken up. I felt that the reaction was totally disproportionate to my crime. I'd certainly got it wrong but I was amazed that complete strangers had gone out of their way to react in a volatile way toward me. Honestly, I felt sorry for the man in the car. I thought his blood pressure must be really high for him to lean out of a window and shout at a girl. 

Whatever happened to English civility? 

Whatever happened to "Manners Maketh Man"? 

Whatever happened to Class? (Cut to "Chicago"!) 

Some of it, I think, is to do with the internet. We can get away with writing so much that is unpleasant. We can whine and moan about people, situations and feelings we have in a way that we couldn't before. It's a very small step before we start saying it. 

I've heard some people say that people who post only the happy moments in their lives are just bragging and giving an unrealistic view. I think it's all about controlling your own media. All of us are celebrities in each other's lives now. We know when a baby is born, when someone loses weight, when a new coupling is made; in exactly the same way we know about celebrities. BUT we don't have to give ourselves bad press. That part is something entirely avoidable. We just have to choose which moments to share and which ones not to. Having control over that part of our lives helps us to remember to censor ourselves with strangers and in public. 

Be yourself - but always be your best self. 

Even with strangers! 

After all, Manners Maketh Man. 

Doctor & Mr McKee

There have been many weird things about my first full week as a junior doctor and you'll be surprised to hear that most of the strangeness has not come from the patients. 

Hearing nurses referring to me as "doctor" is odd. I pause whenever they say it and look around for someone who looks like they know what they are doing. Then I realise it's just me. 

Please don't take my joking too seriously. I know what I'm doing around 90% of the time. Want to know what it really is like? Read this book. Or you could just watch that Junior Doctor program. 

I promised my best friend that I would blog about my initial doctoring experiences. But there are a few things holding me back.

1) Most doctoring is about patients, and I can't write very much about them. You might know one of them - it might be your Granny or your Aunt or something. The experiences that cause me some moments of dark humour might not be so funny if it was. That's something I always try to remember. The things I get wrong or right affect real people that are really loved by other real people. 

2) It's just a job. I know, I know. It's a job that is well-respected, very important and the source of some great television. But, like other jobs, there are mundane bits. Quite frankly, you don't want to hear about someone's day at work. I have the same struggles with bosses, frustrations and the odd moment of triumph. 

So, briefly: 

It's going as well as can be expected after one week. 

I'm suddenly actually good at cannulas. (There's something magic about being able to introduce yourself as the doctor rather than the medical student).  

Night-shifts make me want to scream. 

Let's talk about something pleasant. 

For example, Ben. 

Now, I haven't actually seen my husband in a while. I miss him! The problem with working night shifts is that my routine has been this: 

• 18:30  - Wake Up
• 19:15 - Greet Ben as he walks through the door with a ribbon in my hair (not literally) and dinner all ready
• 19:40 - Leave the house for work, having scarfed down dinner. 
• 09:30 - Return home from work and read
• 11:00 - Fall asleep 

Lather, rinse repeat. 

However, last weekend we managed to go up to the temple to celebrate our anniversary. This weekend we're busy with a practically-family wedding! 

In true Doctor & Mr McKee style, here's a whole bunch of pictures so I don't have to write anymore. 

Can you tell I'm cranky from sleep deprivation??? 

One Minute Of Silence

Life is hectic (in a good way) at the moment so it was a real privilege to be able to take an evening out yesterday to commemorate the beginning of Britain's involvement in the First World War.

 We are lucky to live ten minutes up the road from the National Memorial Arboretum (NMA) in Alrewas. It's a place that has grown on me more and more as I've visited. As it's a place to remember those who have died in conflict it is a place of mourning - but it's also a place of inspiration, enlightenment, reflection and gratitude. I, for one, am very grateful to those who fought to defend the freedom we enjoy in this country. I don't pretend to understand or advocate international conflict (who likes wars?) but I'm glad that I enjoy the freedoms I have and I realise that a lot is owed to the people who gave up so much during the world wars.

A Vigil was held on Monday 4th August at the NMA. A large group of people gathered together to read stories and bible passages, sing hymns and remember.

During the minute of silence we observed after the Last Post was played, someone's phone let out the familiar bleep-bleep bleep-bleep of a message coming through.

At first I rolled my eyes. Surely they could have put it on silent?

Then I listened. Like, really listened.

In our supposed "silence" there were birds chirping, a plane passing overhead and, yes, that person's phone going off.

The thing was, we were all silent. Everyone was observing the silence with the utmost respect and reverence and to the best of their ability. It dawned on me that life is like that. We can't always control the environment we're in or the situations that happen to us. We can't drown out the noise of the plane passing overhead, the birds singing, or the phone. But we can control what we do. We can choose to Be Still.

What an amazing thing that is - that we can make these decisions. We have the freedom to do so much in this life, in this country. Even with times where we have external influence we can control our own conduct and attitude.

The plane, the bird and the phone didn't stop us from having our minute to reflect.

We are the Masters of our fate and the Captains of our souls.