Well I suppose the obvious place to start this blog is the British Association of Retinal Screeners 2009 conference, which took place in Newcastle at the beginning of this month. I have to say, I came away from this year's shindig with a slight sense of disappointment. Looking at the list of delegates who attended, it's clear that the overwhelming majority were screener/graders, and yet the conference programme seemed consistently geared towards managers. Maybe it's just me, but if I have the opportunity to spend two days with three hundred people who share my job, I want to be able to swap experiences, hear stories and learn from people in the same position as me. I don't want a dry lecture about modernising scientific careers, complete with flow charts and network diagrams.

I was hoping for talks that would relate to me and my job. Speakers who would share their techniques for administering eye drops, handling patients and grading images. Screeners who would tell me the problems they'd encountered and the methods they'd used to overcome them. Even just a few funny stories about nightmare patients or disastrous days. There was none of that. The speakers felt like they'd been booked by and for programme managers. It was all very worthy, but it wasn't for me.

Interestingly, an announcement was made at the beginning to say that this year there were no workshops taking place. Apparently people had complained that last year there were so many they'd wanted to go to, that they'd struggled to fit them all in, and had been upset to miss some. So the organisers decided to solve that problem but not holding any. It's a bit like saying that so many people want tickets to see Madonna, that we'd better cancel the concert to avoid disappointing those who can't make it.

So instead of interacting with other retinal screeners, we had two days of mostly uninspiring lectures. There were highlights, however. I particularly enjoyed the talk by Cathy Egan, a Consultant Ophthalmologist at Moorfields Eye Hospital, who outlined a few of the rarer eye conditions we might come across in our work. My only complaint is that she didn't speak for long enough. Having finally found a speaker with something to say, I wanted her to go into more detail and give me time to take notes. Next time she needs to be booked for an hour.

The segment entitled 'EQA - Where Are We Now?' was perhaps the most intriguing section of the conference. It felt like a religious revival for prodigal screeners, as a succession of individuals took to the stage to repent their retinal screening sins, give thanks for their forgiveness, and be baptised in the cleansing waters of the EQA. I've never seen anything like it. I kept expecting someone to shout "Hallelujah!" as they went back to their seat.

Dinner on the first night was our one and only chance to get to know other screeners from all over the country. And sure enough, my colleagues and I were joined on our table by a few members of another screening programme. Unfortunately I couldn't hear a single word they said. I don't know who booked the DJ for the evening, but next time, tell him not to start until we've all finished eating. The entire meal was accompanied by thumpingly loud music, and made meaningful conversation impossible. Any hopes I had of swapping experiences with a fellow screener were lost in a deafening chorus of Girls Aloud.

Day two featured an interesting lecture on screening in prisons, and an enthusiastic talk about OCT, but it was a very mixed bag. Never mind OCT, a couple of the speakers could have done with ECT just to liven them up a bit. But between Martin Harris, a Consultant Ophthalmologist, and Mr Diabetic Retinopathy himself, Professor Paul Dodson, the one consensus to come out of the conference appeared to be that we're all confused by the NSC's grading criteria. Apparently even thirty ophthalmologists locked in a room together couldn't agree on a definition of R2. So how have the rest of us got a chance? You might as well ask us to work out how many marbles were in the Medalytix jar.