"I'll be honest with you, I considered terminating the test at one point."

Before I move on to the story pertaining to the title of this post, let me just say - the Easter weekend was pretty awesome. A friend and I went to stay with a mutual schoolmate in a (currently very famous) picturesque seaside town in Scotland, and highlights included much reminiscing, a fabulous ceilidh and the most amazing Oreo ice cream EVER. Hope everybody else's was as entertaining as ours!

We had to get the train up, once more owing to the lack of a car, so the journey was extremely long and tiring. Anyway, I'm fed up of this lack of a car as it's basically due to me STILL NOT having passed my driving test. So, lessons and a practical test have been booked for this summer, and come final year, I will HOPEFULLY be a successful, independent driver.

I actually practise with the parents whenever I come home for the weekend, and have been doing for months now. I've not had any formal lessons for about two years though - my first (and so far last) instructor was, in my opinion, not so great.

Anyway, that instructor was the one who deemed I was ready for my driving test, and at the end of the driving test, my examiner said "I'll be honest with you, I considered terminating the test at one point". You know how it's possible to get a 'minor' or two or a 'major' in a driving test (referring to types of mistakes...I think we're allowed a fair few minors but even one major constitutes an immediate fail)? Well, I learnt that day that it's also possible to get a 'dangerous'.

I think that's pretty much all you need to know. Suffice to say, I'm REALLY hoping this second attempt goes well!

Back to revision for now, and as ever, more soooon! :-)

Just had my assessment for the module, and now it's holiday time!

So, I'm not sure when I'm going to have time to update this over the next little while as my Easter holiday begins tomorrow and I'm off with a friend to Scotland for three days!

Hence I'm updating now, despite being on the bus - yes, I worked out how; God bless google (and eager people willing to help), forever.

So, I had the teaching assessment, where I taught, as I said I would earlier, a group of about ten women all older than me and all working. A few were nurses, a few were HCA's (healthcare assistants) and a few were radiotherapists.

So, it was fine overall, I spoke too fast and was better when we split them into small groups amongst a few more teachers. But my supervisor said it was okay, and good for a first attempt, so there we go.
There's not much to add, but the following happened, which was quite...interesting, I suppose.

At the beginning, I got them to introduce themselves (not individually, just with a 'so where do you all work?' style question), and introduced myself. I, for some unknown reason, felt compelled to say 'I'm just a medical student' to which the nearest radiotherapist immediately scoffed, 'JUST? Just?!'

Now, what is the correct response to this? Moreover, what was she expecting me to respond with? (Yeah, I'm aware I shouldn't have said it in the first place but still...)

Possible (maybe) options:

'Yes, I was being deliberately sarcastic just to piss you off because hey - you're not a doctor!'

'Yeah...because I'm not sure I even want to do medicine.'

'Mmhmm. As opposed to somebody with a JOB, i.e. you guys.'

'Yup. Because we're treated like crap by a lot of people in your positions, so we now have super low self esteem!'

...anybody got any other ideas? Anyway, I went with a shrug of the shoulders and a 'I just meant I'm just a student, as in, not working yet.' Which they seemed to accept as a sensible answer.

Anyway, more later, on a discussion I had with colleagues regarding the whole being-treated-like-crap thing.

Disclaimer type thing by the way: I think most healthcare staff are actually fine with us; it's just there's no denying the significant minority that aren't. But yeah, no offence to any NHS staff reading this!

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

I have a cold! This is mildly annoying.

The lack of updates is partially due to being a little busy and mostly due to a lack of an internet connection at the parental home, where I returned to for the weekend. I suppose I could have updated using my phone but I haven't quite worked out how yet.

I used to be so into technology. When I was about ten. Not so any longer...

It was a pleasant weekend, apart from the fact that I've apparently caught a cold, which is steadily worsening.

Even though it's not thaaaaat bad, if I were on the wards, it might still be enough reason to stay off, but I'm not on the wards. So I will be dragging myself to the far-away hospital tomorrow to observe more teaching.

So, not much to say tonight, but this happened today, which is pretty cool. I want to know if that guy who was wanting to set 'a Guinness World Record in solving as many Rubik's cubes as possible' while running managed it!

I didn't even know there was a record for that! So awesome.

On another note, this reminded me that I can't actually remember the last time I ran, for any reason. I don't just mean running for exercise - even, say, for a bus. I usually just catch the next one and then make an excuse to the person at the other side. This cannot be a good thing.

Perhaps I should make a partway-through-the-year resolution to do more exercise. Maybe.

Anyway, it is a friend's birthday tonight and as such we're going to have a 'girly evening' together, so I'm off!

(Tomorrow I begin revision, officially. So if my posts become increasingly more miserable over the next week or so,  you know why!)

More later :)

An idiot's guide to 'good clinical teaching'

I can summarise the entire topic with three bullet points in two sections. It's a gift, I know.

What to do:

1. Treat every single question, from 'what does BP stand for?' (allegedly asked by a fellow fourth year the other day) to 'What are the common side effects of phenytoin (or whatever)?' with exactly the same facial expression.
2. Listen to your students. As an observer of teaching these past few weeks, there is nothing more frustrating than when a tutor is answering a different question to the one asked.
3. Accept corrections graciously, not with some crappy excuse.

What not to do:

1. Don't humiliate your students, and if you feel they're particularly in need of humiliation, then at the very least, don't do it in front of patients. In my (humble) opinion, it looks unprofessional if not anything else.
2. Don't assume your student/s are stupider than you. They may not know the content, but rest assured, they're probably NOT stupider than you. So just don't assume that they are.
3. Don't, in the interest of making a session 'interactive', pick on random people then keep beating them into a corner when they don't know an answer. It does nothing, except for make them skive your next session.

Okay, so not totally comprehensive, but whatever. Also totally obvious, but I suspect difficult to follow.

If I ever do end up in teaching then I shall look back on this and remind myself.

The above is probably not a new topic to have been written about, but as I don't read as much as I used to, online or offline, I can't be sure. Apologies if it's a rather unimaginative post, it's just something I wanted to say.

More later!

A lesson in 'ridiculousness'

...that's actually a word. As is 'preposterousness', courtesy the Microsoft Word thesaurus. Discovering this has considerably improved my day.

I am currently on my SSM (special study module), which is in clinical education. Useful, but tiring, even though it shouldn't be, because I'm placed in a hospital that's about a forty minute drive from the medical school.

This would be marginally better if I had a car, but even then, it still wouldn't be great. We get no reimbursement for travel expenses (or if we do, then the system is about as transparent as a brick), and there is no local, free accommodation. How rubbish is that?

Then again, I've no clue what it's like at other medical schools. Hmm, maybe this warrants some research.

Anyway, I got a dressing down this morning for being a half hour late, as my lift couldn't get me in earlier. I meekly tried to explain my calamity (I would have had to get a bus at a very hellish hour to have been on time), but nobody seemed to care. Possibly because they live locally to the hospital. To be fair, I was being a little bit lax last week on the hours I spent in the office, but still.

Don't pick an SSM based outside of your medical school, no matter how beautiful it will look on your CV, especially if you're not actually interested in the topic (and I am interested in teaching and I'm still saying this).

The other ridiculous part of all of this is that I'm going to be expected to teach - no, that's not the ridiculous part -  the use of a piece of equipment I don't even have the license to actually use myself, because at this trust, you have to be registered with a professional body to use it.

I'm sorry, what? I was expecting to teach something like 'abdominal examination' or suchlike to a bunch of eager young first years (or eager old Graduate Entry first years), not to teach those considerably older than myself, and already working full time. It's a bit of an insult to them, surely?!

Well, I don't make the rules.

Will update on how it all goes at a later date!

'And then I heard the dreaded words, “Is there a doctor on this plane?”, and it was a plane, so clearly, I couldn’t run.'

This took far, far too much hassle to set up.

I've attempted to blog before, at least three times, but this time, I am going to STICK TO IT. Hopefully.

It took me about six hours to come up with a name, and then half that to decide on a blogging platform. Ended up returning to blogspot, as that's what I used before.

So, I figured the best way to start this would be to talk about the Lancet rejecting me.

Oh, I don’t mean a paper, of course not. Aside from my dissertation, I have done no other research (as of yet. Obviously).

No, I mean them rejecting my application to be one of five regular student bloggers for the next twelve months. It was an e-mail designed to comfort, I think, but being generic, it didn’t really do that as much as leave me with an ‘Oh? Is that it?’ feeling. Which is fine, really. But what I guess I wanted to share was the tips they gave for being a good blogger:

1. 'Blogs need to be snappy and informal, and above all, personal. They require a strong individual voice.'
2. 'Keep it simple. Short sentences and clear prose go a long way on the net.'
3. 'Always bear in mind who your audience is: in this case, your fellow students. Ask a few trusted friends for honest feedback on your writing.'

This would be fine, except for the fact that I definitely followed the second two, and I thought that I followed the first, but apparently my ‘strong individual voice’ is not as individual as other people’s, or maybe, it’s not anything pertaining to the three tips they’ve sent everyone, and it’s the fact I kind of insinuated that I was a bit of a reluctant medic.

Hmmm. I’m not devastated, you understand, but obviously it would be nice to know if that was the reason – however as is always the way, they ‘will not be able to engage further on an individual basis’ or something of that nature.

Here, why don't I share what I shared with them in one of my sample entries?

‘And then I heard the dreaded words, “Is there a doctor on this plane?”, and it was a plane, so clearly, I couldn’t run.”

...this basically happened to my friend the other day. Yeah, she's technically a medical student and not a doctor, but if there HADN'T been a doctor on the plane (luckily there were two), then she'd actually have been the next best thing, as a fourth year medical student.

THIS IS VERY, VERY FRIGHTENING.

Yes, it's the penultimate year and we'll officially be practising doctors in not very long at all. Something spectacular is going to have to happen in that space of time, seriously. Although looking at the current F1s, that trained where we trained, apparently something spectacular DOES happen in said space of time. There is no other way to explain the incredible amount of information they seem to hold within their brains.

Then again, they’re actually doing the job, day in and day out. So perhaps it’s not really that astonishing. However, I do think that revising for finals is probably the period during which ‘The FEAR’ (a concept I’m sure many will be familiar with) hits never-before-experienced heights, and it is this which enables so many panicked almost-doctors cross the threshold into the world where we begin to receive paycheques for our efforts.

Back to the whole plane dilemma. There is no detracting from how scary the situation might have been had she been the only medical professional on board, but clearly she would have been obliged to do something (or forever live with the guilt). Actually, on one of our first days at medical school we were informed that at least two of us would go on to save a life whilst still eager young students (or not-so-young, if we include our dear Graduate Entry colleagues), or something like that.

I suppose if it had been me, I would have gone with the standard ‘ABC’ (airway, breathing, circulation, etcetera...I can never remember what the ‘d’ stands for...I think it’s ‘disability’) approach, taken a history if they were able to give one, and hoped for the best.

Oh, the phrase ‘hoped for the best’. I’ll bet that kind of summarises quite a few experiences newly appointed juniors must have on the wards, to be honest. Hey, experience is the best teacher, right? So I’m sure we’ll all get there in the end.