Have you got?
This is a common question across the civilised world of surgery. Needless to say, that surgeon’s favourite bit of kit has either never been seen before, or the last item has just run out. Stay around long enough though, and you can influence future stocks and perhaps practice. Once you depart, then your favourite “indispensable” surgical tools moulder on a high shelf. They only resurface once in a while and will eventually just provide amusement to the new generation of surgeons.
Look at Scott’s Parabola for a wry take on the problem.
Eventually, if your bit of kit is so outlandish and presents a menacing air to members of the general public, it will take a reverential place in a display cabinet in the hospital library. No one will remember what it did; perhaps that will be for the best.

Falklands blog for Friday April 12 2013
The price of fish. That is one of the things that most of us never really consider.
Several things have brought this to my mind. Firstly, Mrs Thatcher and the closure of deep mining pits in the UK. Nostalgia makes us look back through rose tinted glasses at old industries. Deep mining was and continues to be one of the more hazardous occupations in the world. It is a horrible job – in the dark, the noise and the heat. As a surgical trainee, the long line of miners with crush and avulsion injuries to their hands was an unremarkable and frequent occurrence. One side effect of mine closures, has been a major reduction in these maiming injuries.

Now, what could be even more dangerous than deep shaft mining? The answer is deep sea fishing. Here, in the Falklands, we see what happens when you combine fast rotating metal and the South Atlantic. Standing at the harbour front, I can’t hold my camera still to take photos because of the buffeting of the wind. Now, imagine topping and tailing fish on a rotary disc, while the deck heaves and shakes beneath you.
I remember being told about a famous World War II cartoon in the Daily Mirror, of a sailor clinging to wreckage. The caption read “The price of petrol has been increased by one penny .. Official”. It caused a furore at the time, but it was a powerful message.
Do think about the fishermen in these waters, far from their homes, earning their wage in what is the most dangerous occupation in the world.

Falklands blog for Tuesday April 9 2013

A lot has been said about Mrs T on the news. Pundits for one side or the other (and there were always 2 sides) praise or damn her. Here, in the Falklands, she is regarded with affection and admired for her resolute determination. Where lesser politicians would have sold them out, she would not yield.
It is dispiriting to look back to the UK to see signs of glee at the news of her death and bitter hatred for her in Glasgow to mention one place. Few of those dancing around had been born when she was in office. Such naked hatred and bile will not bring others to your point of view. Few would wish to be associated with such behaviour. Disagree with her policies and actions if you must, but please have some common courtesy.

Not everything that rusts in the public gaze is detritus. Think of that icon of Gateshead (that has been often adopted or purloined by neighbours Newcastle) the Angel of the North. Here a model of the solar system sits at the edge of the harbour. Not only is Mars a rusty red colour, but so is the sun. Look closely at the model – one of the few places left, where Pluto is still a planet

Falklands blog for Monday April 8 2013

Rusting and abandoned, the detritus of buildings, equipment and machinery litters Stanley. Cannibalised land rovers lie semi abandoned in gardens. Perhaps they lie there as a treasure trove for future generations – “that will come in useful one day”.
But here and there, plots of land are being gentrified. Space is now becoming a premium in town and prices of houses are rising. More people live in Stanley than ever before; is this a flight from camp?
Yet, many from camp also have a house in Stanley. Larger plots of land are being built on, vegetable patches are being lost to new kit houses. Soon, the rusting carcasses of rovers that have given up the ghost will quietly disappear and patios and conservatories will bloom in their place.
Those few fallen and rusting hulks may yet hang around to achieve the status of historic ruins. The ESRO monitoring station from 1973 century stands isolated at Moody Brook. The top half has succumbed to the pull of Mother Earth, but the rest should rear from the landscape for many years to come

Falklands blog for Saturday April 6 2013

Statistics

Just a thought for this morning. What are the chances of someone in the islands developing acute appendicitis? For a population of 500,000 in the UK, we might expect around 100 cases per year: now follow the sums

100 cases per year /500000 population
line1 x5000 population of the Falklands

Total 1 patient

So, even with a fourfold epidemic that would only give one patient per three months – and we have had our patient for the first quarter …..…
This maths can be extended to cover other conditions. BUT … remember, like buses, everything comes in threes.

Fresh bread

You can’t get fresher than picking up a loaf that you have just seen being removed from the oven. In fact, it is so hot and fresh and damp, that you can’t really eat it. You should let it rest for a while, and then reheat it in the toaster to make soldiers to go with your breakfast eggs.

FIODA

The performance was everything we were hoping for and more. The opening night is the best; the nervous enthusiasm, the forgiving nature of the audience and the shear relief that at last, the night has come.
The hall was packed, FITV was there, so the DVD of the event will be available soon. To produce so much talent from such a small stock of around 2000 souls in Stanley is remarkable. I was beaten to press by Penguin News who had a page on the rehearsals, but I will be first to single out the star of the show. Cosette singing ‘Castle in a Cloud’ from Les Mis. A delight.

Stanley
Note, not Port Stanley, as there is no such place. Apparently, the name Port Stanley was used by the telegraph station to prevent confusion with the other Stanleys around the world. The port here is Port William and that is just a mooring, outside the narrows. Stanley is the town.
I was told that Mrs Thatcher used the name Port Stanley, and that a change of name was even considered to accommodate her.
But no, there are really only two places in the Falklands, Stanley and Camp (which of course is a myriad of delightful places – Port Howard amongst them)

Much excitement here in the run up to tomorrow night's opening of “A Night at the Musicals 2 – This Time with Feeling”: a FIODA Production in the Town Hall, Stanley.

There are no reserved seats, so I suppose, it will be a lot like Ryan Air – albeit minus the Premium queue. Previous shows have never failed to impress so I am hope for a good night. A full report will follow, perhaps with the risk of stealing the Penguin News's thunder.

Iain M Banks

Sad news on Sky and now all the papers about Iain Banks.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/booknews/9968842/Iain-Bankss-personal-statement-in-full.html

I am a fan of his SF writing and “The Culture” novels and have been so for years. He writes those as Iain M Banks and his other novels (which in their way are often profoundly disturbing) as plain old Iain Banks. If you have not caught up on either styles, then I strongly recommend you lose no more time. I will keep Iain and his new wife in my thoughts.

Falklands blog for Monday April 1 2013

“It’s going to be hot tomorrow” – well as it was April fool’s day, the next day, I was loathe to believe this promise. But the day started well, and just got warmer and warmer. The coat came off, then the jumper. I was still warm. 18 deg in April – nice and warm.

A good day to visit the Penguins. Gypsy Cove is clear of mines and you can clamber down onto the beach. Watch your step, for the bank is riddled with burrows from the Jackass penguins (their local name is from the braying noise they make). The beach is made of spun sugar and is dazzling in the hot sunshine – now a baking 20 deg C.
No penguins. A pair of Upland Geese – they go around in pairs all the time and sometimes in pairs of couples (the male is the white one (he whistles and the female has a rattling call). They seem to just fly in to where you are, say hello and then start grazing on the grass. Sociable birds and they don’t seem to mind people – some say they enjoy our company.
Then three penguins popped up from the waters edge and toddled up the beach. They checked me out and swiftly returned to their element. Disappointed, I struggled up the steep bank (how do these penguins manage this?) and then saw a pair of nestlings in their burrow.
This is where a long lens rewards you for lugging it around. Too close to the birds in their protective burrow and you will disturb them, a little closer yet, and you will be covered by regurgitated foul smelling stomach contents. An effective deterrent. Did I mention that they (like many birds) have fleas!
They will check you out with one eye and then look at you with the other in case things have changed. The Magellanic penguin never seems to tire of this scrutiny.