19.2.18
Sick of swimming in oversized clinic scrub tops, I finally coughed up and ordered my own. It arrived - and it was beautiful. Three useful pockets, my name 'Dr Esther Fan' embroidered above and a perfect fit. Now I wouldn't be mistaken for the international student or the janitor*!
I proudly sported it on my Sat morning shift at a new locum clinic.
Wandering around in between consults, I was shocked, and a little embarrassed, to find my life bio on display at reception (fig 1). 'We like to introduce our locum vets to our clients,' the receptionist told me. 'Oh dear,' I replied, 'I'm feeling a bit of pressure!'
[aside: I thought later on: isn't there much more of my personal info displayed (on purpose, by me!)non Facebook for hundreds of 'friends' to see - many of whom I have spent less time with in person than my clients?]
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| Fig 1: Excerpt from CV on display |
The shift went well, nothing died, I got a cup of tea (or two) and everyone left work happy.
On the way home I stopped at one of those Asian stores that sells everything cheap and tacky but oh-so-useful. It was one of the rare times I've worn a scrub top in public. Not because it was new, FYI (+/- TMI), but because it was hot and I had nothing (decent) underneath. A customer approached me as I sifted through the knick knacks and asked me if we stocked a particular item. I looked confused and then we both clicked. She was embarrassed... I was, well, a bit deflated. Come on woman! Can't you see my title embroidered on my uniform? (Or at least recognise the doggy odour coming from it?!)
But then I thought: Silly Esther, does it actually matter? What difference does it make if one is a brain surgeon or a shop assistant? Yes my career and lack of computer navigation skills are part of who I am, but surely my identity is rooted in something deeper?
I guess at the end of the day, our achievements are like sandcastles of varying beauty, which don't stand the tides of time (or, to be morbid, waves of death). That is not to say we shouldn't bother, but know we are builders, not our sandcastles themselves, and our inherent worth is found in our Maker.
So I still wear my new (or now slightly fluffy/smelly) scrub top with a smile - a humble smile - knowing that I stand not on my own achievements but on the gifts and worth the Lord bestows.
*jokes - never happened before, but keep reading...
