Archive for June, 2007

A very unproductive day…

June 27, 2007

But I’ve probably got an excuse as my sore throat seems to be back.

I have a feeling it must be related to something I’m doing/eating/breathing because it seems to come on without fail on a wednesday; it then gets steadily worse, and I manage to shake it over the weekend by getting a lot of sleep.  I guess it could be psychosomatic, but even that doesn’t make sense as the end of the week is the less stressful bit- and anyway I have small white dots all over the back of my tongue.  Should probably put it down to tiredness. Or excess coffee.  Or a virus. However, if any medically types reading this are struck with the realisation that is probably scary-cancer-of-the-throat, or tropical disease of the throat, or some other rare disease medical students tend to believe they’ve been struck down with, do let me know. 

Despite diagnosing myself with everything under the sun, I actually rarely go to the doctor- probably another medic trait; the last time I think I went, I got told off for not going sooner (The cough I’d been ignoring for a month or so in the end needed two lots of antibiotics to clear).

Anyway, the fluctuating nature of this makes me think I’ll probably throw it off on my own (afterall one wouldn’t want to contribute to the NHS using too many antibiotics).  In the mean time I can have many hours of procratination fun peering down at my tonsils with my desk lamp carefully angled to provide light.  Doing this earlier, I started making scary faces at myself and managed to actually frighten myself. 

Yes. I really am that cool.


An awkward moment.

June 26, 2007

Those that know me in real life would be able to attest to the fact that I am a rather stressy person.  My mother kindly described me this morning as being volatile (Gee- thanks!) and having extreme swings of emotion- this is true; I tend to be very stressed, or very happy, or very sad, and not much in the middle.  However, I do have one non-destructive card up my sleeve to deal with it; I may comfort eat, and drown my sorrows with alcohol (make mine a gin and tonic) as well as the next person, but none of those are as effective as running. 

Yesterday I went running twice.  This is highly unusual for me, for despite being stressy, I am also very very lazy.  However, I was so jumpy, and so angry and upset, as well as being stressed about work, that I had to to try and burn off the energy. 

I promise I’m going somewhere with this.  [later edit: Although on finishing I’m aware it’s a bit random and didn’t really anywhere good at all- so don’t get your hopes up.]

If no one is in when I go running, I tie my keys to my drawstring , and so that they don’t chink annoyingly, I then tuck the keys just into the top of my knickers inside my shorts.  This is surprisingly effective, and I’ve not yet had a problem with it… until yesterday.  In my haste to get out of the flat and burn off my emotions (I’d just had a minor row with flatmate) I must have tied it badly, because half way along the first stretch of my route I become aware of the keys, which I never usually am. 

There is a chink.

And then I realise keys have well and truely worked their way free and are now IN MY PANTS. Great. 
I slow to a stop, and look around- alas there are a lot of people wandering around, including many small children with their AuPair (Around where I live, it’s rarely the parents with children) and I don’t fancy being the strange girl with her hands in her knickers.  I walk along nonchalantly waiting for everyone to disperse, and then SWISH! quick as a flash I whip the keys out and tie them really really really tightly back onto my shorts before running on. 

Needless to say when I went running today, I made damn sure my keys were secure before I left.


Being Productive?

June 18, 2007

Yesterday I spent a considerable amount of my time actually working- I even decided to do a bit more work post-bath while I had hot chocolate! Admittedly I did also manage to watch a rather significant number of episodes of “Grey’s Anatomy” in between all that concientiousness, but still- WORK!!

This is very unusual for MedicGirl and I can only assume that it boils down to the fact that it was a displacement activity.  I was working because I certainly don’t want to be thinking about the next 9 weeks, and perhaps I also definately didn’t want to be tidying my room. Not sure which.

This is probably the first time in my life that I’d rather it be exams, than just normal work- I’m not talking after exams; everyone likes that, i’m talking ACTUAL exams.  The next 9 weeks fill me with dread and it is going to be a case of survival through it rather than anything else.  Which is why I think I’ve decided to bury my head in work so early…



It is 5.15am

June 15, 2007

I’ve been awake since 4.30am.  Not because I need to get up, or do any work, or anything sensible like that. Oh no… I woke up due to the fact it’s so god damn hot and sweaty, and now I can’t get back to sleep because I’m so stressed.

 Nice one.

MedicGirl x

There’s still time…

June 14, 2007

There is still time left to make me cry… and I have horrible feeling that this module is going to be the one where I crack and end up sobbing like a school girl in front of a doctor.  Alas, unlike at school where this sort of behaviour could definately be twisted to your advantage (not me, but I’ve seen it done masterfully), I have a feeling you’d just be labelled as the unprofessional that cried. 

Yesterday I had teaching first thing which ran over- the upshot of which was that I was running late for clinic and so when I turned up, it had started and all the other medical students were there.  I was almost an hour late admittedly, but it was also very much NOT MY FAULT. 

I speak politely to the receptionist, who clearly doesn’t care, and goes out of her way to be obtuse and bitchy.
I speak to a healthcare assistant, who is also a complete witch.
I wait outside the doctors doors until one comes out. I step forwards, apologise and try to explain the situation and in return the doctor is rude and abruptly tells me he’s already got medical students in his room. I politely ask which of the other rooms are also the doctors, and he seemingly reluctantly tells me. 
I wait for the next door to open.  This doctor is even worse; he tells me off for being late, that it is unacceptable and that I may well have not bothered.  This is even though I led with the explanation that teaching ran over.  In the end, I ask if there is a reg. working the clinic as well, and he again, seemingly reluctantly, tells me which room. 
I wait for the reg. to open his door.  By this time I’m upset, and stressed, and feel like crying, so when the reg opens his door and I step forwards I am profuse in my appologies and expecting the worse.  He is lovely, he cuts me off with a “Oh, another student? Come in- find a chair!”  Another girl from my firm is there and he does a lot of teaching during the clinic as well as being generally friendly and helpful to us as well as the patients.

Which brings me on to the main question in my mind…

If some people can be polite even when stressed, WHAT THE FUCK makes the rest of them believe that it is acceptable to act like total CUNTS?
I think what made it worse was the fact that so far at this hospital I’ve felt that there is a really nice atmosphere- the staff all seem to get on well, and there doesn’t seem to be the pervasive attitude of *goddamnmedicalstudents*.

Luckily the reg. resumed my faith in nice people, as did a receptionist later that day who went out of her way to be helpful to me.  Ah well- come the end of the module I’m going to rip those doctors to shreds in my feedback form and then they’ll…. probably not care at all because I bet no one reads them. But never mind, I’m sure the vitriolic outburst will make me feel better.

In true Medicgirl form, I made myself feel better by going shopping and although I did not find the cardigan that will change my life for the better, I did buy a bottle of shower wash from bodyshop.  Medicgirl will at least be clean and stressed. 

I then decided to bin off my planned afternoon of study, and go out for the evening- another event which didn’t go to plan- but it did end sitting on a bench on the southbank, swigging baileys from the bottle and watching the river, so I’m not complaining.

MedicGirl x

The Start Of A New Module…

June 11, 2007

As the rest of the student world prepares themselves for their long stretching summer of lazing around and pack-packing around the world, I am still sitting in my room of a morning, drinking coffee and psyching myself up to drag my lazy ass up to the hospital to start the new rotation. This is something that strikes fear into my heart on a good day, let alone on one where my body is crying out to just lie in the sun and do nothing.

So despite the fact that my throat seems to be waging a supurative war against my body, and I wanted to go hurl my breakfast, I trudged up to the hospital (laddering my tights on the way naturally).

 GHEDNOH. Or Gen-Med-Spec.

Actually, as we got informed today, the “O” part is no longer in this block but they didn’t want to change the name- Us crazy medics and our crazy acronyms! You know we only use them to sound cool…

Today mainly involved sitting around in a stuffy lecture theatre being presented with insane timetable after insane timetable. Given the fact that the majority of people in the room already had at least one degree under their belt, it took quite a while to work out where-the-fuck they wanted us to be at any given moment of the day. 
There are about 6 timetables.
We are split into multiple different groups for each one.
Working out how a day goes involves cross-referencing most of the timetables and groups.

You’d think there would have been an easier way.

MedicGirl (who’s now actually going go and do some… *Gasp* WORK!)

“Out, damn’d spot! out, I say!”

June 5, 2007

Londonmedicgirl: WHY IS MY FACE SO HIDEOUS?
Flatmate: It’s just an outward expression of your moral turpitude.

I hope it’s not and rather more my body expressing stress in a thoroughly irritating manner.  Given that my neck glands also seem to be swollen, I’m probably about to come down with some sort of lurgy.

My dearest friend.

June 5, 2007

Sometimes there is only one thing that can get you through the day, and looking back at the preclinical years I don’t think it is unconnected that my ability to pass exams matches in terms of time-frames with my ability to drink coffee. Nothing like an injection of caffeine to keep you awake through dull lectures on Histology and Embryology (actually, that’s a lie- I never even turned up to those!).

After watching SW trying to teach herself to drink it at the beginning of the year, grimacing as she swallowed a mouthful of Starbucks-coffee-flavoured-sugar-froth, I decided it was a damn good thing I perfected such a habit in advance.   I may have sipped my black Americano smuggly back then, but you know what- sometimes pride doesn’t come before a fall- because having to get up at 5 for 7am ward rounds when you’ve been on all the previous day, relies heavily on gulping down a hefty dose of the stuff.  Gradually, I’ve started drinking it so strong that it sends other people into the shakes; My friend WR couldn’t type after consuming a Londonmedicgirl-made mugfull, and although one of my firm did point out that it was aging and would give me cancer, I have decided that I have very few vices in life, and so this can be mine.

On the subject of vices, we are about to start the Liver firms and this weeks lectures have hammered home just how much our generation is a cirrhotic time-bomb.  Perhaps if I don’t specialise in psychiatry I should aim for Hepatology- plenty of money to be had there I bet.  Despite the knowledge that a good proportion of my year probably have early alcoholic liver disease, I fully intend to binge-drink and skive the following days lectures due to the subsequent hangover, in order to behave badly at the annual Medic Summer Ball.

Small matter of a dress to find first though.
MedicGirl x

The final days…

June 5, 2007

For everyone else at least.

Term for the majority of students is over- they are all out getting as drunk as possible, and trying to ignore the fact that results are tomorrow determining whether their summer is ruined and they have the joy of attended The July Club (resits). 
I met up with one such friend the other day for a couple of drinks, and to listen to him stress about whether or not he passed.  Having failed those papers a number of times myself in the past I still couldn’t judge on his performance, but could at least impress upon him that you could do pretty shit on the essay paper and still managed to scrape through the year. Score.  Bet you wanted to hear THAT about your future doctors.

Quick interlude while I tell you a joke.

Q: What do you call a medical student who graduated bottom of their class?
A: Doctor.

Gotta love Pass-fail courses!

So, the end of the last module finished- managed to bring up my mark from the previous block, and have one of my clerkings requested as a proforma for next year (What can I say, my handwriting is neat, and I’m fastidious to the point of obsession with things I hand in).  The firm then spent the afternoon drinking pimms (1st of the year) and gin and tonic in the pub, before agreeing to meet up in the evening for a night of drunken debauchery.

This was our first mistake: never EVER slow down on an afternoon of drinking.
Rookie error. 
I went home, and promptly lost all will to go out. Having promised I did drag myself, and although had a pleasant time- everyone was a little flat; all tired and stress-hungover from the week as well as on a come-down from the earlier drinking. NJ and I kept sniping at each other due to having spent far too much time in each others pockets that week, and in the end I came home early feeling like a small child who’s too tired to do anything but grizzle, tantrum, and be tucked into bed.

This week involves lectures- which is actually a nice break- and I fully intend to utilise the fact that a lot of it goes online and therefore can spend the appropriate amount of time binning off said lectures in favour of shopping, or the park.  Don’t frown at me- this is the last opportunity before I have to spend the majority of the summer in a hospital, or revising…

 Stay posted for more medical-whinging,

 MedicGirl x

Three cups of coffee and a stack of continuation sheets.

June 1, 2007

It is 6.30am on a Friday morning and I am sitting at my desk, leaning over said stack of sheets, and typing here instead of writing up clerkings.

It has occurred to me that I have on 3 out of 5 days this week, been at the hospital when I didn’t need to be.
Tuesday- I stayed late.
Wednesday- We went in early even though we didn’t actually have anything timetabled all day (and got the priceless reward of being spotted being keen on the ward by Doctor-who-matters BEFORE 9am). 
Thursday- I realised at about 7pm that I’d run out of continuation sheets, and so because of my slight OCD tendancies, and general unwillingness to hand in anything that was written on different paper, I decided I’d go back up there and steal some more. Sure, I realise this is more of an example of how I am unorganised, and a moron, but who cares. I LOOKED keen even if I wasn’t really. Not that anyone saw me mind.

Back to the clerkings. They take 2 hours to do on the wards, and as I’ve discovered, about the same amount of time to write them up…. which does not bode well for me actually, especially as I’m procrastinating by blogging.

Ah well, at least today heralds the end of rotation, and if all goes well, I shall be relaxing in the pub at around midday, and settling into an afternoon and night of heavy drinking.

Make mine a G&T.