In my institution we have an unholy obsession with role-delineating acronyms. We have the EPIC (Emergency Physician in Charge), an OWL (Observation Ward Leader), and a CAT (Clinical Something-starting-with-A Teacher), as though we are in some delightful Edward Lear fancy about to set sail with a runcible spoon. We are, most assuredly, not. The latest…

On my living room wall is a poster – the poster in the photograph – and it perches there, displaying its stupefying complexity to anyone who walks by. I’m not sure why it gets pride of place on my wall when surely an elegant print would do better, but I love to be reminded of…

Edvard Munch is the artist for our times, isn’t he? If the year 2020 were a painting, it would have to be The Scream. We are hoping 2021 will be more serene, but who knows what horrors may be lying in wait. You are all intimately familiar with the fearful, crazed iconography of Munch’s masterpiece:…

There are few drugs that make me sing while stopping those in front of me doing the same in the way droperidol does. To be less obtuse, I mean that droperidol is a superb and unsurpassed tool in our pharmaceutical shed. It is a sophisticated instrument, a focussed dart, a brilliant drug for gaining control…