Wednesday, 24 August 2016

Blind leading the blind

It says something about 'where' you are in your own life cycle when you take notes at a meeting - without glasses - and then fail categorically to make sense of what you have written.

I developed, during my university days, my own form of shorthand. It is something I used to pride myself on as being the sole individual who could interpret it. It certainly put paid to other slackers who asked if they could "copy my notes" and then never asked again.

The problem more recently, however, was that *I* was stumped with my own scrawl.

So I did what any sane person would do in today's age: I posted on Facebook and asked for help.

Cue an old friend commenting that I would "make a great GP".
Funny that. Medicine had been my first choice of career but events conspired against me.

And then another friend (with a PhD in Community Health) came to the rescue.
She pointed out that I might have (horror, shock) spelt one word incorrectly and therefore the interpretation of what followed did not make sense.

Guess what?
She was absolutely right.

And when I thanked her, she noted that she "can read doctor's writing. Years of practice."

Definitely missed my calling.

to... two... sle... sla... what...?


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