When Dr Jenny Capps ventured to the Antipodes she felt strangely at home
I was convinced that my experience of medicine here would be very different than my experiences in the NHS
Oh no… surely it’s not morning yet? I hide under my duvet as the high-pitched shrill of my alarm pierces the silence. As I haul myself out of bed and frantically race to turn on as many heaters as humanly possible I wonder again why, for such an eco-friendly country, New Zealand does not have double glazing?!
Another day another New Zealand dollar. I wash and dress then mount my bike and cycle through the village along the seaside to work. Even at 8am in the morning there are fitness fanatics everywhere, people running, cycling and sea kayaking. New Zealanders are definitely morning people!
As I run up the steps to work I remember how different my induction was, compared to the one I had in the UK. This was mainly because of the strong Maori influence: I had to learn Maori words (my pronunciation is still dire!), participate in the Hongi (a nose-touching ceremony, which is the equivalent to shaking hands) and sing traditional Maori songs. At the time I was convinced that my experience of medicine here would be very different than my experiences in the NHS. But I soon came to realise how similar it was.
This morning it’s my turn to present in the meeting, a daunting task at the best of times, but add to that a presentation that has been cobbled together the night before after a few drinks while discussing the best skiing destination for the weekend, and a panel of consultants armed with piercing questions – I fear I’m in for a rough ride.
Medical cases here are very similar to the UK, except for the spider bites, and even those are rare in New Zealand
Luckily my UK experiences save me – while presenting a case about a man with a rare case of myositis, I’m able to reflect on a similar case in the UK and manage to produce passable answers. The range of medical cases here are very similar to the UK, except for the spider bites, and thankfully even those are rare in New Zealand.
A ward round follows – they usually take the same form as in the UK, unless there are key sporting events scheduled, in which case they are often delayed for a quick check on the latest scores. Today there is no such event and the ward round passes with relative ease. Initially I found it a challenge to get used to the small changes in NZ prescribing, such as 100mg aspirin rather than 75mg and trimethoprim as a 300mg evening dose instead of 200mg BD.
As lunch time approaches I look forward to a break from the seemingly endless rewriting of drug charts and siting cannulas. By lunch I have cannulated four people – in NZ the cannulas can only be kept in for a maximum of three days, which is very frustrating if the old ones are working perfectly. Lunch is free and it would not be complete without the obligatory gossiping with other junior doctors. We discuss the morning’s events and our plans for the weekend.
I start my afternoon relaxed and full. I perform more ward jobs and meet with patients and relatives, none of whom fail to comment: “Oh, I can tell you’re not from around here are you?” Thankfully that comment became less frequent as my job continued, with British doctors becoming more numerous than their NZ counterparts. After a busy day there’s time to quickly stop off at the climbing wall across the road before heading back for a well-deserved drink in the pub.
Despite many people’s best attempts, it’s still a gin and tonic for me, instead of the local tipple – namely Tui or Speight’s beer. An animated discussion about weekend plans ensues. It is a difficult decision: do we ski, which is less than an hour’s drive away, or go walking in one of the beautiful national parks, or watch whales and dolphins, or relax in some of the thermal pools… Yep, life is tough!