A Country Doctor's Notebook (Vintage Classics)
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Beiträge
Ich konnte mich gut in den Arzt hineinversetzen, da es mir zu Beginn meines Jobs ähnlich ging - wenn auch nicht als Medizinerin. Interessant geschrieben und zeigt auch, dass der Verlauf als Arzt damals nicht gut verlaufen muss.
_________ Wow. I‘m stunned and in awe. I‘ve put off reading this book, even though I‘ve owned it for a while, because I had a feeling I would love it and I didn‘t want to start so that it would have to end. And just so we understand each other here: 5 stars are reserved for my long-term, all time favourite books, so 4.5 stars is the highest praise I can give it without appointing it a favourite. I should note that I am working in the medical field, including in emergency care and as a first responder in the past. I‘ve seen more than I ever cared to see. In short: This collection of short stories spoke to me on a whole different level — and, god, isn‘t it frightening and comforting at the same time that I, from 21st century central Europe, have shared many of the fears and experiences with an early 20th century Russian country doctor? Don‘t we all have our own version of the strangulated hernia? I find it hard to decide which of the stories I liked best — in fact, I didn‘t read them as separate stories, aside from maybe the last one, and instead as one continuing narrative —, but Morphine is definitely the most harrowing one. I just know that this is a book I will frequently return to, even just to remind me that I am not alone. Darkness, black as Egypt‘s night, descended and in it I was standing alone, armed with something that might have been a sword or might have been a stethoscope. I was moving forward and fighting… somewhere at the back of beyond. But I was not alone. With me was my warrior band: Demyan Lukich, Anna Nikolaevna, Pelagea Ivanovna, all dressed in white overalls, all pressing forward.
Edit: You know what? Screw it. 5 stars it gets and on the favourite shelf it goes. Don‘t care about my usual rule of waiting at least a few months. _________ Wow. I‘m stunned and in awe. I‘ve put off reading this book, even though I‘ve owned it for a while, because I had a feeling I would love it and I didn‘t want to start so that it would have to end. And just so we understand each other here: 5 stars are reserved for my long-term, all time favourite books, so 4.5 stars is the highest praise I can give it without appointing it a favourite. I should note that I am working in the medical field, including in emergency care and as a first responder in the past. I‘ve seen patients swallow razorblades and batteries in order to get drugs. I‘ve seen more self inflicted gunshot wounds at 5am than I ever cared to see. People blowing themselves up with hand grenades. Homeless people refusing to be admitted to the hospital for their terminal disease, bottles of alcoholic drinks clinking in plastic bags, despite attempts of keeping them hidden. I‘ve heard the screams of a newborn born with heroin addiction going through withdrawal after having been cut off from their mother‘s steady supply through the umbilical cord. In short: This collection of short stories spoke to me on a whole different level — and, god, isn‘t it frightening and comforting at the same time that I, from 21st century central Europe, have shared many of the fears and experiences with an early 20th century Russian country doctor? Don‘t we all have our own version of the strangulated hernia? I find it hard to decide which of the stories I liked best — in fact, I didn‘t read them as separate stories, aside from maybe the last one, and instead as one continuing narrative —, but Morphine is definitely the most harrowing one. I just know that this is a book I will frequently return to, even just to remind me that I am not alone. Darkness, black as Egypt‘s night, descended and in it I was standing alone, armed with something that might have been a sword or might have been a stethoscope. I was moving forward and fighting… somewhere at the back of beyond. But I was not alone. With me was my warrior band: Demyan Lukich, Anna Nikolaevna, Pelagea Ivanovna, all dressed in white overalls, all pressing forward.
Beiträge
Ich konnte mich gut in den Arzt hineinversetzen, da es mir zu Beginn meines Jobs ähnlich ging - wenn auch nicht als Medizinerin. Interessant geschrieben und zeigt auch, dass der Verlauf als Arzt damals nicht gut verlaufen muss.
_________ Wow. I‘m stunned and in awe. I‘ve put off reading this book, even though I‘ve owned it for a while, because I had a feeling I would love it and I didn‘t want to start so that it would have to end. And just so we understand each other here: 5 stars are reserved for my long-term, all time favourite books, so 4.5 stars is the highest praise I can give it without appointing it a favourite. I should note that I am working in the medical field, including in emergency care and as a first responder in the past. I‘ve seen more than I ever cared to see. In short: This collection of short stories spoke to me on a whole different level — and, god, isn‘t it frightening and comforting at the same time that I, from 21st century central Europe, have shared many of the fears and experiences with an early 20th century Russian country doctor? Don‘t we all have our own version of the strangulated hernia? I find it hard to decide which of the stories I liked best — in fact, I didn‘t read them as separate stories, aside from maybe the last one, and instead as one continuing narrative —, but Morphine is definitely the most harrowing one. I just know that this is a book I will frequently return to, even just to remind me that I am not alone. Darkness, black as Egypt‘s night, descended and in it I was standing alone, armed with something that might have been a sword or might have been a stethoscope. I was moving forward and fighting… somewhere at the back of beyond. But I was not alone. With me was my warrior band: Demyan Lukich, Anna Nikolaevna, Pelagea Ivanovna, all dressed in white overalls, all pressing forward.
Edit: You know what? Screw it. 5 stars it gets and on the favourite shelf it goes. Don‘t care about my usual rule of waiting at least a few months. _________ Wow. I‘m stunned and in awe. I‘ve put off reading this book, even though I‘ve owned it for a while, because I had a feeling I would love it and I didn‘t want to start so that it would have to end. And just so we understand each other here: 5 stars are reserved for my long-term, all time favourite books, so 4.5 stars is the highest praise I can give it without appointing it a favourite. I should note that I am working in the medical field, including in emergency care and as a first responder in the past. I‘ve seen patients swallow razorblades and batteries in order to get drugs. I‘ve seen more self inflicted gunshot wounds at 5am than I ever cared to see. People blowing themselves up with hand grenades. Homeless people refusing to be admitted to the hospital for their terminal disease, bottles of alcoholic drinks clinking in plastic bags, despite attempts of keeping them hidden. I‘ve heard the screams of a newborn born with heroin addiction going through withdrawal after having been cut off from their mother‘s steady supply through the umbilical cord. In short: This collection of short stories spoke to me on a whole different level — and, god, isn‘t it frightening and comforting at the same time that I, from 21st century central Europe, have shared many of the fears and experiences with an early 20th century Russian country doctor? Don‘t we all have our own version of the strangulated hernia? I find it hard to decide which of the stories I liked best — in fact, I didn‘t read them as separate stories, aside from maybe the last one, and instead as one continuing narrative —, but Morphine is definitely the most harrowing one. I just know that this is a book I will frequently return to, even just to remind me that I am not alone. Darkness, black as Egypt‘s night, descended and in it I was standing alone, armed with something that might have been a sword or might have been a stethoscope. I was moving forward and fighting… somewhere at the back of beyond. But I was not alone. With me was my warrior band: Demyan Lukich, Anna Nikolaevna, Pelagea Ivanovna, all dressed in white overalls, all pressing forward.