Dr Jesus

One of the Things I Have Noticed about CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) is the unusual way that they use names.  Almost everyone will introduce themselves to you by their first name - so it is hello to Jude the Healthcare Assistant, and Ted the consultant psychiatrist -  but you may well find that in practice this is not how they are usually referred to on the ward.

It is true that Jude the healthcare assistant, and Annette the nurse, will probably always remain Jude and Annette to you.  Everyone knows them as Jude and Annette, and the chances are that you will never learn their surnames.  They start on first name terms, and they remain on first name terms, which suits the intimacy that they have to establish with your child.

You are more likely to hear other professionals - psychologists, occupational therapists, social workers - being referred to by their full name, Joe Smith.  The psychologist may introduce himself to you as Joe, and you may well address him as Joe, but the nurses and the receptionists, and indeed probably everyone else will typically call him Joe Smith.  It reflects a certain distance - Joe may not be based on the premises, he may only come in on certain days - and ward staff do not know him that well.  Worse, there may be other Joes around from which he has to be distinguished, maybe a whole galaxy of Joes, some of whom may be better known on the ward.  Senior nursing staff and clinical managers are also often referred to by their full-name: the ward will be run by Florence Nightingale, not plain Florence. In this case the surname is more plainly a mark of respect, reflecting a different sort of distance.

Doctors, on the other hand, have the most peculiar naming conventions.  Doctors seem to carry their titles around with them like bricks wherever they go.  Ted may introduce himself as Ted, the consultant psychiatrist, but you will soon learn to call him Dr Jekyll like everyone else.  Occasionally, when feeling egalitarian, you may venture to refer to him as Dr Ted Jekyll in conversation.  Trying to refer to him as Ted feels peculiar because no one else will join you in your little rebellion against convention.  "But Ted said he would increase the dose." you say, daringly, only to hear them reply, "I'll speak to Dr Jekyll about that when I see him tomorrow."  Throughout all the many conversations you have with nursing or clinical staff, he will always be Dr Jekyll.  It is inevitable: on the ward, Dr Jekyll is king, and no one likes to be over-familiar with the king.

Consultants are not the only medical degrees in the building.  There are junior doctors too, and for them the naming convention is truly peculiar.  They are universally referred to by their title and their first name: Dr Sue, Dr Mick, and yes, if they are Spanish, possibly Dr Jesus.  No doubt there is a Dr Mohammed out there too, though he is more likely to be known as Dr Mo.   It sounds a little odd at first, but you grow used to it.  It is rather affectionate, and softens some of the harshness of that brick that they carry around with them.  "Who did your blood test today Julie?". "Oh it was Dr Jesus". 

At least it is less formal than the school where I flounder endlessly with forms of address.  In school, where discipline is dominant, rather than empathy, staff are always Mrs Smith to the children and usually introduce themselves as Mrs Smith, or occasionally as Jane Smith.  This form of address persists long after Mrs Smith has become Jane to you in conversation.  I oscillate endlessly between the different forms, awkwardly trying to work out when to call a staff member by a first name, how to refer to another staff member, how to address them in a letter and so on.  "Take this letter to Mrs Smith" I say to Julie, having started the letter with "Dear Jane".