Carly has a whole long list of where she doesn’t feel she fits in. It is probably more with whom she doesn’t fit rather than where, when, how or why. It is always about human relationships and her eternal quest to seek out love. She realises that there are many types of love. She thinks about filial love for a moment. She likes the word ‘filial’. It sounds like you could love horses but that is her confusion with the word for a young mare (a filly).
And she likes her siblings, their partners and often their children. Is this filial love different from familial love? So off she heads to a dictionary and looks it up. Oh, rubbish. It is Google she turns to! Filial love is mostly defined as love of a child for their parents. Yup, she has lots of that. And it is both ways. But whether it is filial or familial is a semantic difference. She does feel now that she is the only divorced one of her siblings, her parents’ siblings and most (but not all) of her first cousins. She isn’t quite sure why she is still hung up on being divorced. But she is. Oh yes, she has done her therapy, mindfulness and shamanic journeys to ask these questions. But she still has to come to terms with feeling different from her family.
Then she has an internal dialogue and supposes “What if?” No, she didn’t choose them to be her siblings or her cousins. And certainly, she didn’t have anything to do with their partners. Nor, obviously, they, her. She is probably overthinking it. Too much time in her head. Too many thoughts rushing around at breakneck speed competing with other thoughts. It doesn’t matter how forceful Carly is with keeping these irritating thoughts in abeyance. Up they pop! And boy, Carly doesn’t like this state of being. That is she is NOT in control. She will just have to submit and make the best of all this whizzing around of these thoughts.
Recently she learnt some very interesting facts. So much so, she even bothered to enter them into her Continuing Professional Development diary for work. She learnt your brain is 2% of the weight of your body but is an energy guzzler. Using up 20% of all your kilojoules. And we make 3,000 decisions a day. For real? Luckily, she doesn’t have that much time to record them.
But let’s consider the steps and decisions in making a cup of herbal tea. Carly starts off with that every morning. Shall she get out of bed? Even this isn’t binary. Is it too early? Will she go and let out Talulah? Will the cats all-of-a-sudden become utterly ravenous to petition her for food because really, they are so starving, they might actually die from lack of food? This she ponders is unlikely as they are ginormous. So, when she finally makes that decision, she hops up from her bed. She takes the water in the carafe with her to fill up the kettle. Flip the switch on. Did the orange light come on signalling the kettle is in boil mode before she can actually hear the kettle?
Then open the drawer. To get the beautiful mug she bought from a potter in the wonderful spread-out Oslo Craft Museum. She spots a few bits of limescale at the bottom. Should she wash this cup out? No, she will donate these specs and the few drops of yesterday’s tea into the cheese plant. She got that by grumbling to the estate agent who usually only gives them to new homeowners – not lower cast renters like Carly. Oh, back to the tea. Use yesterday’s tea bag? Well, is that day four or five of use? Well one more time should surely be fine. Oh, and as she removed the bag and its little special saucer, she saw her old lady lilac enormous multivitamins. Best take one of those.
Oh, and as it is the season of spring with its tree pollen allergens flying around, so she’d best take a minuscule 10mg non-sedating antihistamine. She definitely needs to be awake and fully in control of her senses on her cycle across London at breakneck speed.
Gosh loads of decisions and even more random thoughts before she has even poured the boiling water into her cup. So maybe 3,000 decisions might be underestimating it. As for the thoughts, that is a huge number. It is disputed. On the ‘Love Brain’ course they said 70,000 thoughts per day, and you have them when you are asleep. But others think it is 20,000. Carly is sure that whatever the number for the average human being she has more. But how on earth can you measure that anyway? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
But back to the title of this story. So, when does Carly feel she does not fit in? Certainly, with groups of doctors who all go off after the ward round for a group coffee and the midday huddle (never to be moved or beware the matron’s wrath) for group lunch. Carly feels she gives them her all at the board round and they will have had their fill of Carly. The board round is when doctors on duty and one nurse handover before seeing patients at the start of the attending day. Carly encourages everyone to introduce themselves and say a fun fact. This has to be voluntary. Usually, people join in. During her last ever attending week in late May 2023 Carly asked for everyone’s favourite shapes on Monday, what they had had for breakfast on Wednesday, their podcast recommendations on Thursday and what they had decided to do about their own death on Friday. For the well-attended Tuesday ward round when all of her consultant colleagues came, she suggested (no, actually she mandated) that they all wear something purple without exception. Word had spread and so the room was heaving that Tuesday with standing room only. This was going to be her last ever attending week on the ward.
Carly herself had planned to wear a lilac wig. But things got in the way. On her way to Archway from Walthamstow on her new (5th as all predecessors had been stolen – urgggghhhh) trusty e-Brompton she had another flat front tyre. Oh no. She had only had another one repaired six days previously. But never mind. She could walk through a park to South Tottenham station and get the Goblin to work. She loved that name. Her very good friend and ex-step-sister-in-law had called it that. Gospel Oak to Barking Line. So, Goblin it became, for Carly. Maybe it should be written GoBLin.
That day Carly was planning to go for a swim before work. And was all ready in her purple (obviously) costume. But she ran out of time as she had to take the train with her poorly bike. But, what the hell. She decided she was only amongst colleagues. So, she removed all her clothes for the board round apart from the swimsuit and put on her wig. Of course, it got everyone’s attention. And lots of people took photos and videos and she could still be serious and lead the goings on. When she saw the recordings later, she was a teensy bit upset that there was so much cellulite on show. Just before they left the seminar room to see the patients, one of her more sensible colleagues (probably they all were) entrusted, to three named individuals, that Carly could only see patients fully attired. Shame, shame thought Carly – no sense of adventure.
So, you can see why Carly thought that everyone in the team would have had enough of her extreme extroversion and not want her to spend time with them having mediocre NHS coffee and an expensive but middling lunch.
There are a number of other situations where Carly doesn’t feel she really fits in. She has never been keen on pubs. Even if they are ‘no-smoking’ now. Carly often has to go with groups of work colleagues to celebrate something. Usually someone’s leaving. But Carly often gets stuck sitting next to someone she doesn’t know nor cares to get to know. She often uses the excuse of her puppy to leave. Now she knows why her parents had a dog. It was their get-out-of-jail card.
She also doesn’t really fit in with other dog owners in the park who all seem to know each other and at least their dog’s names. This is because they all go to the same park at the same time. But there is a dearth of parks near where Carly lives, so she and Talulah are park hoppers. Recently in St James’ Park (not the posh one near Buckingham Palace but a more salubrious one in Walthamstow) she met a dog called Dixie and his owner Douggie. Finally, Carly felt she could start to have a group of doggy owner friends. But she didn’t know that Dixie was an extreme digger of a dog. He was only too happy to pass on these skills to Talulah who was a quick learner. Once back home Talulah was all paws and displaying her skills to a dangerous extent in Carly’s back yard. But Carly’s ‘garden’ had minuscule amounts of mud by the two side fences. And because she had a dog flap, when home, you could never tell whether Talulah was crashing through the flap to do her business or to dig. Either way, it was some mess for poor old Carly to clear up.
She also doesn’t fit in with others who are dating because they’re doing it too little, too much, not seriously enough or too seriously. It is all relative, muses Carly. She is nervous around other divorcees in case they get partnered much faster than Carly because life is one great big competition. Anyway, does she even want a partner?
For sure she does not fit in with scientists; that was a past life and she really isn’t one now. She was pretty hopeless at doing science at the time and only filled up a quarter of a laboratory book. Thank goodness her professor never knew… And as for medical educators who all have teaching theory degrees – what a waste of time. She was fine as a teacher without one. She has even been invited onto the panel of a balloon debate to fight this corner.
There are some instances when she may or may not fit in. This is mostly when she is with other creatives as she still sees herself as a doctor really. But not for much longer. And Carly feels uncomfortable with people who are in awe of her. But she also quite likes it. Being famous. Well not really famous but has written a book that many parents have. Oh dear. Ambivalence. Here we go again…
There are places and with people she absolutely does fit in. When she goes to Death Café meetings, when she goes on her very special yoga and writing retreats in Lemnaradis, Greece, and when she is socialising with one other person, so they give her their full attention and she them. She can be comfortable with her parents if they are going out with her to Archie’s in Archway for lunch and also with her kids. Even if her kids wittingly conspire with each other to communally take the piss out of Carly…
And of course, she is happy to spend time alone, especially if coffee from an independent café is involved. And to be honest – who wants to fit in anyway?
