Caroline McCarthy is an academic GP and is in clinical practice in Leixlip, Co Kildare, Ireland. She was a GP trainee with Dr Garrett Igoe from March 2014 until August 2024 and February 2015 until September 2015.
I was recently asked by a former GP trainer if I would like write something for his retirement showcase. Although Garrett was my trainer back in 2014, we had reconnected recently through our writing. This retirement party with a twist was to be hosted by the local theatre group and was a reflection of his love of the arts. As well as being an accomplished poet, Garrett was a kind and observant GP, who could probably have listed every patient’s grandmother, hobby and cholesterol level without so much as a peek at the notes.
I was delighted with this invitation of course. Inspired by some of his writing from his first few years in Virginia,1 I set to work with pen and paper. But then came the problem: I could not remember much about my time in Virginia. I don’t think this was any reflection of the town, or the practice or the trainer for that matter. It was that I was in a fog, a baby fog. I had two stints there as a GP trainee under Garret’s mentorship: one while heavily pregnant, another with two under two at home. I was commuting, with broken sleep and baby brain, catching up on my overdue out-of-ours training commitments and surviving on coffee. Every morning felt like a military operation and every evening a minor miracle.
What I do remember is Garrett taking me for a drive around the town on my first day. He pointed out the homes, the workplaces, the pubs and pitches — each one peppered with stories about the people and the events that shaped this beautiful town. I remember nodding politely, thinking, this is nice, but what has it got to do with general practice?
I had yet to grasp that connection, patience and the true appreciation of personhood are the central tenets of the job.
Now, over a decade older and (I hope) a bit wiser, I see exactly what it had to do with general practice. Garrett wasn’t just showing me a place; he was showing me what it meant to belong to one. My lack of enjoyment of the GP work at the time and outsider status was in part due to my circumstance but also due to my understanding of what general practice is all about. I had yet to grasp that connection, patience and the true appreciation of personhood are the central tenets of the job. Recognising this has made me realise that I need to be more patient with my own trainees as they make this discovery for themselves. It’s not something that can be taught quickly or explained in a tutorial; it’s something that unfolds with time, experience and reflection.
Apart from the drive-through tutorial the other stand out memory was being discovered taking a lunchtime nap on my examination couch by a horrified Garrett. He insisted I go to his house instead, I was mortified; too tired to refuse but worried about what the locals might think of the new doctor sneaking off for a lie-down at the boss’s house. As toe-curlingly embarrassing as it was at the time, this little memory is another reminder that the professional development of our students and trainees is inseparable from their welfare.
Anyway, that driving tutorial and mortifying nap saga have stayed with me. What I now know is that being of the community, not just in it, is what makes general practice effective, sustainable and frankly, what makes it fun. I am pretty sure that Virginia will miss Garrett the GP but they will still have Garrett the person for many years to come.
Reference
1. Igoe G. Unforeseen consequences. BMJ. 1999;319(7223):1471.
