I had forgotten the anguish of Sunday evening, the one that takes your stomach and cuts your appetite, the one that makes you cry, that spins in your head, that prevents you from falling asleep and that often wakes you up.
I had forgotten how destabilizing it can be to slip into walls and someone’s way of working. The fear that things won’t go over with the secretary. The apprehension of the first hours, and the fear the following evening of having done badly with the patients, apprehension increased by the fact that it was someone else’s, the fear of the other’s gaze on my work.
How uncomfortable it can be to sit in a chair that isn’t yours. Working on a qwerty keyboard. Look for the hydroalcoholic solution. Not being able to move around patients to listen to their lungs. Struggling to turn on the otoscope. Being hot, looking for air conditioning, not seeing any, finally lowering the shutter. Not knowing who to address, if the replaced would address. Put up with the suspicious looks, the rabbits, the remarks regarding my accent. Smile at the “thank you Doctor” at the end.
I did not remember that it was so difficult not to be “at home”…
My memory had perhaps preserved only the best moments. Or maybe I’m getting old and I don’t adapt so easily anymore. Or so since time, I idealize my activity before, the one that seems to have only advantages. Or else I put a little too much pressure on myself, vis-à-vis what this week represented for the future.
And yet.
How nice it is to come to work in a hoodie or a T-shirt decorated with a skull, with Crocs on your feet, without losing my credibility. De see always positive bank accounts. To be able to order the material I want. To hang what I love on the walls. To choose the posters of the waiting room. To be the one who decides. To be able to complain to the secretary regarding the schedule. To almost know what to expect in the morning when I arrive. To be able to get up and open the door to tell them to leave when they cross the line. To build relationships of trust little by little. To discuss PSA, cholesterol, screenings without another breaking wood on my back followingwards. For having made the connections in my head between family members. And most importantly, to have earned their trust.
I had forgotten the bad sides. Why I had settled down.
How can you replace years…
How do you do ?
Merci à celui qui m’a permis de voir ailleurs, de me souvenir, de prendre l'air. Et ne te méprends pas, c'était super. :)
