It’s rained most of the weekend. Our planned sleep-in Saturday was thwarted by heavy rain, and a little thunder, rolling in at 8 am. This afternoon, in between our breakfast with the Virgos and sangria with Chris & Jason, there was a warm sunny break in the rain and I had fun in the garden with my new DeWalt screwdriver bits, fixing the lattice. I had thought 45 size 2, 25 mm screws was too many, when we’d dropped into Bunnings. But I’d soon finished the whole pack. One of five sections is fixed. One more to go.
My first two weeks at work has been good; initially almost overwhelmingly stressful (after two years without reporting a CT chest or brain I began to second-guess myself, and was reporting slower than I used to be able to do at 3 am, on call). Learning how to supervise trainees has been interesting; I facetiously suggested when asked, “What do you want me to say [in a biopsy report]?” to include, “Aseptic technique with all five moments of hand hygiene,” because I’d spent the morning grinding through frustrating compulsory e-learning. The next day the report came through for verification, having quoted me in all seriousness verbatim.
The workplace has become very sociable and team-centered; every day people go for lunch, together.
We’ve managed to catch up with a lot of friends and family in the month we’ve been back home. It’s been good talking to friends who have either previously lived in Toronto, or elsewhere overseas, and returned. I’m not alone in feeling that I don’t quite belong returning home while at the same time feeling warm and fuzzy from all the welcomes home.