And breathe...

Well, the latest round of exams are finally over, and I never seem to take full advantage of the moment of freedom afterwards; even after this mega exam consisting of Human Development (basically about stuff where the sun don't shine), Cardio-Resp ("lub dub") and Metabolism (digestion,diarrhoea and a re-haunting of Biochem), I didn't exactly know how to celebrate. The exam in my opinion, went quite well alhamdulillah; not too many tricky questions, and compared to FunMed, I didn't have to quickly fill any gaps in whilst the examiner told everyone to stop writing. I actually quite enjoy exams, especially if I'm properly prepared for them and even if I'm not, the vibe filling the whole room is something unique. Exam halls aren't places regularly frequented, and the seriousness of both the invigilators and fellow exam-takers is something I find quite amusing. All past friendships are forgotten once those doors open, with people managing only an awkward smile as they walk past to find their seats.

When you're sitting the exam, everything in your mind is a jumble; do I start at the beginning or skip to a certain section? Our exams involve Short Answer Questions (SAQ's) and Extended Matching Questions (EMQ's, where they give you a list of 20 words and you have to match them to the descriptions given; quite tricky sometimes). All past papers you've done are nothing in comparison to this exam, why on earth do they have to shake things up when it's my year, always?! But maybe it's just the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you wonder if you'll finish in time, and whether or not you'll make a fool of yourself in front of the markers.  Any little sound becomes amplified and could put you right off your flow; any constant coughing, or interruptions by the examiners, or the constant clockety clock footsteps of the invigilators can really annoy you.  And it doesn't help that every so often you can hear a tube train run underneath the exam hall.  It's actually one of the reasons why I want to take a dyslexia test (apart from getting extra time); I get to escape to a quieter venue to sit my exam!

The morning exam was the online anatomy/micronatomy spotter (no, it doesn't mean identifying zits); they give you pictures of corpses and microscope slides, and either ask you to identify bits or layers of cells, or their function and what they produce. This exam was easier than the FunMed one, and apart from some menacing placenta questions, it was quite a chilled exam, especially as alot of questions were repeated from earlier years.

When it's all over, and you think you've done well (which in Medicine's case means scraping a pass), there's an overwhelming sense of relief as everyone gets up from their places with wide (and sometimes uneasy) grins on their faces. And then begins the chatter about how everyone found the exam, and what they put for specific questions; and I'm quite a guilty culprit when it gets to this stage, needing some sort of reason to justify some of the answers I put down during the exam.

So now I'm in the middle of a clinical hypnosis module, I can relax, literally. An update on that will come once I actually finish learning and experiencing everything and get assessed (but so far it has been phenomenal!), and once I get this PBL writeup done; my blog being the last excuse I can make before I really get down to typing 2000 words on Vibrio cholerae and how it causes diarrhoea. Goodbye.

January Juxtaglomerular Apparatus

I need to remember to stop mentioning that my month has been a hectic one. It's always going to be hectic from now on, and I have to get used to it. My days have been choc-a-bloc with lectures, PBLs, extra lectures and cadaver examining; I fit eating somewhere in there too (nowhere near the cadavers, although they do get your salivary glands going ¬_¬). Anyway, several things happened that didn't happen the month before, like becoming part of a new PBL group (they shuffle things around in the new year); and so far I don't think we have gelled very well at all. We're just different people, and the higher male numbers in the group create an imbalance with who says what, and generally it's either very quiet (most of all when I'm cracking my jokes or introducing some 'psychosocial' ideas), or very noisy with people speaking over each other, maybe in an attempt to impress the tutor. But I do feel that sometimes people are with-holding information in an attempt to deprive it from others; which is a bit too competitive if you ask me.

So yeah, I've noticed that my blog posts are mainly going to be revolving around life at uni, which would make sense since I spend most time there, but after these exams I'm promising myself to have a proper life again. Sometimes I question myself and wonder whether or not I do have any hobbies, or what I've achieved generally, but it could be just forgetfulness especially if I'm caught up in the moment of hectic pre-exam cramming (which I'm not really doing at the moment). Maybe my 'competitive' nature and random urge to start 'projects' serve as a sort of reminder to myself of the things I can achieve. Maybe that's with everyone.

So what happened this month? Algeria qualified for the world cup, by beating Egypt in a tense final encounter, and which has resulted in the countries (and their residents) not talking to each other any more. They just played each other in the semi final of the African cup of nations; Algeria losing 4-0 with 3 players sent off (including the goalkeeper for headbutting the referee, which surprisingly got him only a yellow card first). So I am looking forward to seeing Algeria play in the world for the first time (in my life), and ironically they're drawn in the same group as England, so that will be fun to watch!

I also became a first year representative of MESS, which is basically a student-led group at uni who get upper years to give extra lectures on the topics covered earlier that week by lower years. I actually love it, and have barely missed any. I practically learn more in MESS than I do in real lectures, even though the extra lectures are held in a dingy chalkboard lecture theatre in the basement of the hospital; it's where I've learnt most. So now I have to make lecture announcements twice a week, along with another rep, to the rest of the year on what would be covered that evening. Plus I've now got a cool hoodie with my name on!

What I like to do is look at a month and wonder where I was the same time the year before. But January/Febrary time is especially significant because of the turn-around my life has undergone in these months. Two years ago I was in a completely different world (in almost every aspect) to where I am now, and last year was halfway to where I wanted to be. I hope to talk a bit more about my past once I get my short-term future sorted out, i.e. not flopping this 3-modules-in-one mega exam! So I'll leave you with a few things I'm including that I haven't done in the past, to paint myself, and you, a better picture of what this month has brought.

Facebook status updates:

-They dragged it out for ages, but twas a sad end to Tennant's doctor :/

-Stop and search number 4, standard

-is in a room full of dead bodies... alone

-Best feeling today: pulling the cord on the routemaster bus for the first time in 15 years!

-The force of gravity beats ironing any day!

-Transport FOR London?? You're having a laugh!

-Who needs changing rooms when you've got a tube carriage all to yourself?

-has concluded that meeting the BMA treasurer has done no harm to his future bank balance

-Professor Kumar ♥

-has yet to learn that oyster cards don't open front doors ¬_¬

-Standing outside the egyptian part of edgware road. Maybe I should keep my distance :P

 ~~~

Ah, how can I forget Professor Kumar? She is one of the co-writers of Kumar and Clark, Clinical Medicine; THE book used by doctors and medical students all over the world, and she gave a couple of lectures on gastroenterology at our university! She qualified from there, and she is one of the nicest people ever! You would think that being world-renowned could have a negative impact on your personality (especially if you're a doctor already, and apparently she's from Pakistan- not that that's related at all :P), but she is so down to earth, and warned us of becoming arrogant in the future; that we were like everyone else, just choosing this career path because we wanted to help people. She is quite funny, and knows how to keep a bunch of students interested, bringing in three patients suffering from random gastro-intestinal diseases, and telling stories of her life experiences, and the lessons she learnt on the way.

A friend's moment of pondering:

If black is the absence of colour, how do colourless things exist?

Another friend's cool quote:

May the (mass x acceleration) be with you.

Competition

Continuing from the last post, now that I think about it, I am quite selfish, and maybe moreso than other people. Not in the usual "I want it all" sense, but in competition, I want nothing more than to come first. If there is a level playing field and a concept of 'first place' exists, second place is not an option. I know it's quite a bad way of thinking, and I have toned that urge down quite a lot since my younger years, but it still remains, and quite strong too. When I go out bowling with friends, or enter a football tournament, my competitive  nature takes over. I don't openly show it, as it can cause unease and discomfort with other guys (who, let's face it, are probably feeling the same), but I like to call it friendly competitiveness.

Having grown up knowing nothing more than achieving the top every year at school since year 1, my parents haven't exactly been discouraging me from quenching my competitive thirst, and I'm happy they haven't. I believe in trying your best in everything you do, and if it means unwavered aiming for first place, then so be it. Now I'm studying medicine with 340 others in my year, I have to be a little more realistic; many graduates are taking the course, as well as unsociable bookworms and people retaking the year. Of course it would be phenomenal if I somehow managed to get the best grades in the whole year, but I've learnt there are other methods of becoming the best person you can without having the absolute top exam results. But I still aim.

Of course, you find many people with competitive streaks have a sense of loathing for their fellow  competitors; willing to go behind even their friends' backs if they wanted something achieved, which isn't rare at medical school. Competitive people are probably more likely to cheat their way into first place, if they had the chance to, which is maybe why the concept of cheating exists in the first place! Another small  disadvantage of being first also may be that you haven't learnt enough, or got the mindset to improve on an aspect of your performance in the future.

Some people may not like competition or those who pursue it, but it could be that they feel they can't keep up with them, and if given the chance, they would gladly pinch top spot and the rewards that come with it. The rewards: Most of the time competition may not have an instant tangible prize, neither would there be a  physical first place either; life being a sort of large-scale competition, and whether people like it or not, we're all competing. Gone are the days of hacking each other to death in 'survival of the fittest'. It's much
more subtle than that; we're still competing for the same things: resources, partners, houses, jobs, but without the spears and war-paint, most of the time.

The best feeling about winning first place is the feeling itself. Knowing that you've taken up the challenge (most of the time in your own head, where no-one else really cares), and are experiencing the joy, the ecstasy, of knowing there's no-one else above you. It's a sort of freedom gained; the open space above you is so unrestricting, and it helps you aim for so many new horizons. The feeling is only temporary, until the next bit of competition comes along; so yes, it probably is an addiction. Either it's an addiction to the feeling of winning, or it could a constant yearning for attention and acceptance, but I like to think it's just the extraordinary euphoria you feel that surrounds your moment of achievement.

Last Thursday I won the Imperial Quran competition for the second year in a row, alhamdulillah. And even though I had my mum telling me not to be too optimistic; this being a more difficult one than last year, memorising 10 pages and against 6 other people, in the end I found myself walking up and collecting my winner's certificate. I made quite a silly mistake halfway through my recitation but I won the 'final showdown' (which I was half prepared for in my competitive every-scenario mind). The point is that after I made the mistake, I was sure that I wouldn't win it, but just by carrying on and with Allah's help, things that you don't expect, or think you deserve, can most certainly happen.

I've experienced a lot of loss in recent years; not getting into medical school two years running, crushing disappointment at sporting events (loads, practically every Sunday now), and even the losing of my mind at one point. But I've managed to appreciate that the more you've been on the receiving end of defeat, the sweeter success tastes.

It's not the position you stand, but the direction in which you look.

Be nice to each other

Well, what a weird week it's been.  At a time when the weather has made front page news, and travel has been at times severely disrupted due to the snow, it's been a chance for our Great British population to complain about something new. Personally, I find snow quite enchanting, and its concept a bit weird. You go to sleep with the streets outside chilly but bare, and the next morning, "flump!" Like the sky saying "well, here you go", thick snow has been deposited everywhere over cars, trees, houses and streets. A blanket of freshness, and although the temperature is probably the coldest you've experienced all year, you can detect a sort of warmness coming from the radiant whiteness, like the world around you has been dressed in cotton. The crunching sound of fresh snow beneath your feet, the sense of optimism you feel when its practically waiting for you to mould it into a throwable sphere, or sculpt it into a carrot-wearing companion, no experience is comparable.

Of course, things do get a bit spoilt when it all turns into mud-coloured mush, and the inclination everyone has of being friendly to each other gradually thaws. Sometimes you can learn life lessons in the weirdest of places; Baker Street station, one morning there are delays on practically every line leaving it. The station announcers are ushering us to different platforms if we want earlier trains, and I finally settle for the Metropolitan line that would take me some of the way to my GP placement. The platform is quickly filling up with no sign of train approaching, and when one does arrive, and doors open, everyone scrambles to the front of the crowd in an attempt to board the train. And it was then did I hear what I never would expect myself to hear in such a setting: "BE NICE TO EACH OTHER!"

Like an authoritative schoolteacher telling off her pupils in the lunch queue, the lady over the tannoy system was trying to calm the pushing and shouting crowd of commuters who were desperate not to be late for work. It's funny, if some people are even slightly impeded upon in any way, they start to lose their inhibitions and begin to get nasty, even though the only consequence would be running a few minutes later than planned and maybe feeling cold for a little longer. And then they need to be taken back 30 years in their personal histories to be reminded to play nice. It made me wonder about how selfish I actually am, not only in situations where the concept of queuing doesn't exist, but in life in general; how far would I have to be pushed before my animalistic instincts got the better of me?

By the way, I love certain memorable days on the calendar. Today is 10/01/10 and for some reason I always feel like doing something special on these days, just because the numbers in the date look nice next to each other!

New Year's B10gging

I love my blog. It's a thing I have full control over; I decide what I should write and when, it's colour scheme and design (which I do intend to change, when I get the hang of it all); any little detail that I want included or removed is completely up to me, and no-one can make me do otherwise (unless they get hold of my password somehow). I could even stick a random picture in or a word in a sentence somewhere and I won't 'lose marks' or have my editor tell me off; totally up to me. I could continue with what I've been doing the past year, writing my ovoviviparous monthly entries, but I want to take it deeper this year; I want to extract lessons from my adventures, a bit like the reflective pieces of writing I have to do for my GP placement.

I'm a person who likes to embark on projects, or intend to do them at least, and a great thing about having a Blackberry now is that I can quickly nip it out and record what has been going through my mind before I forget it, and so I'm able to compile my list of new things I want to do, unleashing as much orange as I can!  One thing I've wanted to do is share things I like, something I haven't really done on here, and what a better time to start but now?

There is a youtube channel called 'Shaytards', by a guy called Shay Carl, and he started a project up (yes, he's into his projects too... but on a bigger scale) where he was going to vlog every day for a year and put the daily video up on youtube. He's a cool guy, and his family is adorable! He has a habit of saying 'tard' after lots of things, such as his children (to protect their identity from internet snoopers); so his son's called sontard, daughter is princesstard and the younger daughter is babytard. He had another aim where he was going to grow his beard (beardtard) for three years, and on the first of January 2010 (3 days ago)  he'd shave it off. So he's a cool guy, and he gets together with other mega-rated youtubers to make videos with them, moving to LA from his hometown in Idaho. I think he actually makes quite alot of money from the number of viewers he gets, but his videos are entertaining, and he always gets ideas for new projects and gets other youtubers to take part, like the weightloss channel he's started (since he himself is a bit on the chubby side)... shayloss.

Anyway, this is one of the 300 or so videos at the moment; there are too many good ones to choose from, and he plans to continue past the year mark, especially as his wife is pregnant now (with foetustard of course). Some people may think everything he's doing is too invading on his family (and I do think it may be a bit damaging if his children aren't called by their real names all the time), but if they're alright with it and he's making money from it (after all, he quit his job to spend more time with them, and make videos), then why not? It's interesting knowing about the life of someone on the other side of the world, and you do get quite attached (maybe why everyone likes TV soaps so much). Some people even cried when he got rid of his beardtard!



This has actually made me want to start a regular video thing, maybe in the future when I have growing offspring to film; I doubt I'll put them up on youtube though!

December Deliveries, Disappointments and Delights

The final week of term was just awesome. Ok, there was snow, now there are relaxing holidays, but even more awesome was when our PBL tutor let us look around the maternity ward he works at (a couple of days after taking us out to dinner). Not only that, we went on a ward round and sat in on a meeting with all the healthcare workers, talking about the different problems faced with particular women giving birth. It was like a PBL session but with real professional people, and real lives at risk. With this speciality, two lives are at stake; the mother's and the baby's, which is why there probably is a greater emphasis on the teamwork aspect of the job. The consultants were discussing so passionately about guidelines and practice, while I just sat at the back with the junior doctors, trying to decipher the complex medical terms they were so casually throwing around.

After the ward round, my friend and I were given the chance to watch an actual live caesarean birth! An experience not even upper years have been through yet, we took the opportunity with open arms and asked as many questions as possible and felt so grateful for being there; witnessing a new life come into the world. The doctors were so preoccupied talking to us, they forgot to properly check if the anaesthetic was working or not, and cut straight into the woman's abdomen, with her feeling it! There was a point where each doctor took an edge of the hole in the uterus they had cut, and started to pull in opposite directions, and you could hear the rip as the amniotic fluid began to gush out, with them finally fumbling inside for the baby before pulling its head out with a pair of forceps. The stitching up of the three layers took some time, and the lady also wanted a sterilisation, meaning she wanted no more kids, so they tied off and cut her fallopian tubes (the tubes from the ovaries to the womb area- meaning eggs can't get to where they're supposed to). I found that quite puzzling, since she wasn't exactly old and now had three children, she may change her mind in the future. We actually walked in at the beginning when they were getting consent for the sterilisation, and since she spoke little English, the doctors had to make extra sure that she knew what a sterilisation was.

Anyway, with every new life that comes into the world, another one is lost, and probably through an unjust cause. I was actually incensed at the recent execution of a British man in China, convicted for carrying 4kg of heroin into the country; I would usually ignore these things when reading the news, but this guy had a history of mental illness, and it was clear, even to me, that he'd been tricked into carrying it. Having bipolar disorder and delusional psychosis, a person can dupe themselves into believing fantastic stories, let alone have other people do it to them. I know that there are people around the world in a similar situation but don't carry a British passport and haven't got the media attention this guy has had, but the injustice he has faced just leaves me lost for words, especially as there were reports of the judges at his trial openly laughing at his rambled speech begging for his life. So this year ends pretty much the same way last year did; injustice, death and a scarcity of common sense.

But ending on a positive note, I've learnt so much from this year, thankful for all the people and opportunities I have all around me. I've learnt that it can be difficult trying to keep a monthly diary thing, but hopefully I can look back in years to come and see myself develop in one of the most critical stages of my life, and just laugh at the petty things I used to worry myself with. I might actually continue with it, maybe, but vlogging is definitely easier! Today I spent my day at the BMA library with a friend going through the PBLs of the upcoming module which we actually managed to do, and I think it is the main lesson I can draw from this year (although implementing it slightly late); when you've got time to get something done and be ahead, just do it!

Deeper Than Skin Deep

Today, I ran into a person I hadn't seen for more than three years; I'd tried to visit him since, but he was always away.  The consultant plastic surgeon I did my work experience with back in 2006 was walking into our medical school building and I couldn't help but call his name. He was walking with two other doctors, one of whom I recognised as a 'lower-down' plastic surgeon, who I don't think properly recognised me when I talked to him. I didn't blame him; it's been a while, but the consultant (Mr Shibu- 'Mister' being the title they give to surgeons, taking away the 'Doctor' they'd been working for all those years) did recognise me, and even remembered my name (well, my brother's name, but close enough :P). Probably quite old judging by the number of years he must've put in to get where he is, he still looked quite youthful, and hadn't lost that playful glint in his eye.  The couple of weeks spent with him were of the most enlightening ever.  He not only opened my eyes to what medicine really was about, but taught me a few plastic-surgery related things, and didn't think I was a waste of time, as I hear most consultants tend to do. He's funny and friendly, trustworthy and caring; passionate about his job, someone I really look up to and hope to be like one day.

The work experience itself was amazing; seeing a wide range of diseases and disabilities, from genetic impairments to gunshot and knife wounds. There was a baby girl whose nerve supply to her face was underdeveloped, leaving her unable to even smile.  But for every problem there is a solution (well, almost), and the plastic surgeons were at hand to sew things back up and make people's limbs more aesthetically pleasing to them. A very rewarding and noble field, which I am seriously considering as an option (which is the same for every speciality at this stage I suppose, but this one more so).

Speaking of aesthetic pleasure, I went down to a car-boot sale which was at the school I took my brother for Saturday morning football. It's just the usual thing; people selling things they don't want, but with this being a good school (The Malorees, where a few of my siblings have been bullies pupils), there were a few middle-classish people selling their unwanted items (including, if I recall correctly, a Nintendo 64 for 20 pence!). There was quite a good stall of just antiques and paintings, and I couldn't help but be drawn to the liquid green embedded in glass paperweight (it caught my eye because I remember a similar one being in the George Orwell book '1984'). 3 pounds only? Bargain.  After a couple of rounds of the car-boot sale (and buying a Lord of the Rings DVD for a pound), I revisited the stall and decided that I needed a matching vase to hold my peacock feathers in (oh yes, some guy was selling peacock feathers randomly in the middle of Whitechapel.)
So in the end I decided on a cool red molten-twisted look vase, which I'm pleased with (as in, it's doing what it's supposed to... being a vase), and it sits happily atop my bookcase, displaying my picturesque plume of peacock feathers :)