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| newcastle, the great north east trip of 2011 |
i felt so strongly then about wanting to live on a farm, with chickens and cattle and sheep and rabbits and a giant pile of swedes and turnips... i have been telling my GP how nice it would be to live in tarland, and how all the houses were so pretty and how pretty much everybody has a great view of everything. i'd be so far removed from civilisation that there wouldn't be any drama from anybody! (besides from the people in the village, tarland is a 'crazy little place, innit?', to quote and unquote my GP...)
however am i going to be able to own a house/farm in extremely rural scotland when it is also my current life dream to be a high-flying neuro-oncologist working on the east coast of the united states?
HOW!?
i was gushing about how the scenery was so beautiful and all that and telling him that i thought being a rural GP was amazing and he said 'yeah, it's pretty nice, you get to see all sorts of things and patients, but you want to look at brain tumours! only brain tumours! all the time! every day! do you see secondary tumours (to which i shook my head)? do you see... meningiomas (to which i nodded)? oh okay, good then!"
haha, i do admit, however, that life can be quite surreal as a rural GP. he kept pointing houses out and telling me that this was the house in which he saw his first dead body, and oh, look, that's the house in which he saw his first suicide etc etc etc
and oh yeah this was where he got called to see a dead body who washed up from the river in the middle of the night, and they wouldn't remove the body from the river unless he pronounced it dead etc etc etc
i'm not sure i could handle stuff like that over many years...
haha maybe i'll change my mind about all of this when i get back to dundee and the rest of civilisation with 50 mbps internet woohoo!
toodles!
