This is ridiculous. Have been walking around with a silly smile on my
face for half an hour. The cause...received a letter from eminent
dermatologist _confirming_ my diagnosis of morphoea. (Never diagnosed it
before, only ever seen it once.)
Now, why should I feel so smug and self-satisfied, especially when it is
a condition that can't be treated anyway?
Surely I should get as much *job satisfaction* from picking up
bronchitis and treating it appropriately? And seeing as I am going to see
far more bronchitis than I will morphoea, it would be better for
long-term happiness.
Or is it the teaching hospital influence on medical training that puts
such undue emphasis on the minutiae and rarities, that makes one feel
like a *proper* doctor picking up something rare.
Just a thought....
(now feeling maudlin and pathetic...sob sob sob....)
Cheerio,
Graham
'Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at
which one can die.'
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