We need a doctor, STAT!

Last week I started my new job in Hamilton. Taking over the patient panel of a GP who had been with the practice for seventeen years, electing not to tell her patients she was retiring, I had some very interesting initial encounters with surprised, and occasionally irate, patients. Fortunately I was one female taking over for another, making the transition somewhat easier for the patients. There’s been an adjustment period for myself and the clinic staff, all of us having become used to the working styles of those we’d worked with for years. Overall, it hasn’t been too bad. That’s until last night when I got a rather disturbing call from the New Zealand Medical Council. Ultimately, the council controls if and for how long I can work, issuing me a Council practicing number and a little piece of paper called an Annual Practicing Certificate. The APC allows me to practice as a registered GP in New Zealand. Thus far I’ve had one issued for Ruanui Health Centre. However, when I moved to a new practice, it required a new APC. Thinking I could simple change the details of my place of employment and new supervisor on the renewal form, I sent off the renewal. I was wrong. That’s when things got interesting. The phone call was to inform me that I had not filled out the correct forms to notify of the change of supervisor and hence did not have a current APC and was not registered to work as a GP in New Zealand. Apparently an email including the necessary forms was sent to my old Ruanui email address after I had left. Knowing that my day was already nearly booked full with patients the next day (apparently female GPs are like gold in Hamilton), I urgently called the clinic to tell them of the predicament. With much trepidation, I went into clinic this morning to sort out the situation. Fortunately all responsible parties were present and the forms where quickly filled out and faxed to the Medical Council. After several tentative hours of waiting, a few anxious phone calls to the Council, and one faxing mishap, the call came through that I was all good to go. Just in time, as my first patient walked through the door.