So, the breakdown I had to have occurred.

In fact, I was beginning to worry that it hadn't yet. After my first foray into the world of medical work, I had a wonderfully relevant supervisor who confided to me that she cried by the Thursday of any new job. Once she realised that this was normal, it wasn't nearly so disturbing when it happened.

So, the second week of the job, I worked 60 hours, went to 4 hours of lectures, bought some textbooks, got scratched by a patient, helped pick up the pieces after several young people tried to kill themselves, told a family their perfect new baby has a scary lifelong diagnosis, and I was still cruising. Exhausted, yes, but relatively intact. To the point where I was wondering how numb I had become.

But this Tuesday, meltdown occurred. I held it together for the first hour of work before the floodgates opened. The poor temporary receptionist in our office crept away from my soggy blathering, however my current supervisor was wonderful. And it all came out - the wierdness of hospitalising patients for being 10kg heavier than most of my previous patient base, not knowing anything, the emotional strain of battling people who don't want to be helped, being behind everyone else in study, forgetting how to talk Medical, my renewed doubts about decisions last year the more experience I get...

By the afternoon, I had almost recovered. Able to go to a lecture and actually absorb something. And the major benefit of a study group is already apparent: the others feel that they are behind & don't know anything either.

So, this weekend will involve sleep, newspapers, walking in the sunshine and cooking. And maybe a little study, of the reading for interest's sake kind.