And...exhale.

My old Speech and Drama teacher at school would make a particular point of not rushing through our pieces when we read them aloud. So much so that, whenever we selected the verse and prose that we would be working on that year, she asked us to circle every single punctuation mark in the text. Blue for commas, colons, semi-colons etc and red for full stops, exclamation marks and question marks. By doing so, we would be reminded to pause, breathe and then continue. NB. Red means you take a longer pause than blue. Logical really.

Currently, I'm embracing the blue circle (in case you're not following me yet, what I'm trying to say is that I'm stopping to take a breather). I've hit the half way mark; three years down and three years to go. All being well, I'll have a BSc under my belt within the next few weeks too which isn't a bad bonus! It's a curious point though, half way there and still feeling incredibly naive and not at all ready to be a doctor. I guess then, taking a pause to reflect over the last three years is a reminder that I've come a long way and also a bit of light relief to know that I still have three years to learn the ropes.

I know that this blog is a little cheesy at times but that is by no means the intention behind it. It's just taken me a while to realise that humans tend to feel better when they know that other people are going through something similar to themselves. I can't pretend that the next three years are always going to be a bundle of laughs but I'm pretty sure that I'm not afraid to share it when it is and when it isn't. I'll stop doing so when you can't put up with me anymore. 

See you in a couple of weeks, I'm off to chase the sun.

Tea.

I feel like I haven't really qualified the whole 'tea enthusiast' claim under the 'about me' section on the right yet. Not that it's particularly riveting, a year of having to justify absolutely everything I say in every essay that I've had to write might just be starting to take its toll on me however..

I don't know about you but I get a pang of guilt every time I pay for a cup of tea. Particularly if it's in a major coffee shop chain that charges me more than it would cost me to buy a box of teabags at the supermarket. I'm not going to go as far as coffee devotees in saying that 'it's just flavoured water' but...it does seem like a rather high price to pay for a student who fancies a fabulous tasting coffee/hot chocolate substitute doesn't it?

At present, I'm guzzling something within the realms of 8-10 cups of tea a day (did I say cup, I mean that's a bit of an understatement, my 'cup' resembles more of a jug). So you might say that my enthusiasm for tea has ventured into more of a form of therapy - an elixir to keep my head propped up at my desk for countless hours of dissertation writing/re-writing/scrapping/tearing my hair out everyday. As I write this, I'm attempting to politely sip a wonderful tea from Sri Lanka called Ceylon. I urge you to drink it, divine. 

And for those of you who don't share my love of, ahem,  'flavoured water' - an older medic told me yesterday that many of her friends put on a stone during their very stressful fourth year at medical school. I suppose then that there are worse things than tea to overindulge in during stressful times. 

                                    

(Source: http://www.whittard.co.uk/tea/black/ceylon_tea?gclid=CNXY5KWr-rYCFXIPtAodZnkAqQ)

Curvy is the new skinny. Or are we simply in denial?

I read a pretty hard-hitting article yesterday by a woman who questioned whether being 'curvy' simply legitimised being overweight. There's no denying that we're bombarded with photos of striking, picture perfect (and might I add natural ectomorphs) like Cara Delevinge and Nicole Scherzinger, and sure, most women would take their bodies over their own. 

But times are changing, we have adverts by popular companies promoting 'real women', plus size models at London Fashion Week and, every so often, we're reminded that Marilyn Monroe was a sexy size 14. I do wonder, what does curvy mean? And is it a good thing that Britain's love of voluptuous women is going viral? 

These are the women we're calling curvy. They don't look too large if you ask me.
(Source: ZEST Magazine May 2013 issue)

Okay, I realise that I don't think I've made an actual point yet so here goes....Beyonce, Kimberley Walsh and Jennifer Lopez are pretty slim compared to the 32% of UK women who are overweight and the further 26% who are obese. We Brits are the largest women in the whole of Europe. I'm not advocating starving yourself so that you can saunter down a catwalk wishing you could have a slice of carrot cake, I'm just recommending celebrating health and treating your body with a bit of respect. Rumour has it, you only get one.  This entry applies to men too by the way; I'm not a neo-feminist, I just work with what I know! Obesity (male and female) costs the NHS £5.1 billion per year, a brisk walk costs you nothing. You do the maths.

Well, I'm certainly getting a little scared.

It's dissertation time. I question whether or not it's ethically acceptable for doctors to use the media as a means for blowing the whistle on poor patient care. The dreaded phrase 'culture of fear' just keeps coming up - over and over and OVER again. In order to put forward a good case, I often ask myself whether I should be writing my thesis as a future patient (it's likely - my chances of living till I'm at least 100 are looking pretty good - *check out the link at the bottom of this entry*) or a future doctor. 

Even though we hear the term 'whistleblow' banded around regularly, it isn't actually a real word you know - it's not in the Oxford English Dictionary. However, I would like to point out that 'bootylicious' and 'tittynope' are. If you don't believe me, I pray you take a look for yourself. Anyway, however you want to describe the action of informing someone about illicit  activities that occur in the establishment you work at, I'm going to make the claim that it's probably done with good intentions. 

If that's the case, then why are so many whistleblowers silenced? You do wonder that when there's legislation to protect them (Public Interest Disclosure Act 1998).  Why should I be scared to speak up if I'm concerned about something going on when I become a doctor? I shouldn't. 

Does it matter if I choose to use the media as a means for doing so? Good question.

*Chances are I'm going to receive a card from the monarch!

Actions speak louder than words (but words can also get you into a lot of trouble)

If I wasn't on a student budget, I'd bet a rather large amount in saying that there are a plenty more ways in which you can have a rant about something that really bothers you now than when our parents were young. Yes, the majority of us believe in the right to free speech but it goes without saying that there's always going to be someone who doesn't like what you've got to say.

So let's start with one of today's controversial statements then: 'Paedophilia is an illness'. This remark was made by the Archbishop of Durban on BBC Radio 5 live this morning (listen to his remarks live here - Paedophilia is an illness) and, of course, everyone has something to say about it. You may beg to differ. Personally, I'm not going to pass judgement as that's not my intention. Instead what I want to stress is how powerful a choice of words, a passing comment or a controversial tweet can be. 

Earlier, I overheard someone ask to be referred to as 'partially-sighted' rather than 'partially-blind'. Despite being a regular at Vision Express myself, I suppose I've never really considered how someone might refer to the fact that I have less than 20:20 vision. Yet to this particular individual, the description about a personal characteristic mattered. It's something that I would say is important for all of us to note because it's easy to (unintentionally) offend others. It's certainly something that I can empathise with. Sometimes it's the things that might seem insignificant to one individual that might mean a lot to another. Trivial to you, a big deal to me. 

(If you don't like anecdotes stop reading now.) 

I remember going to A&E once and the receptionist showing me a piece of paper with a list of various ethnic categories and asking me to choose which one I would describe myself as. Part of me wondered how she would've reacted if I'd picked one which was clearly untrue. I'm guessing she wouldn't have found it particularly funny. Is society becoming more sensitive to the feelings of others? Well it's either that, or we Brits pride ourselves on being particularly politically correct. 

(Source: www.cartoonstock.com)

Information overload.

One of my male friends once said that my porridge breakfasts
resemble rabbit food. That still hurts.

I haven't posted for a while. It's not because I haven't wanted to, but you know how it is - it seems that I've just been generally busy. I know that's not a good enough excuse. Amidst all of the things that I've been crossing out on my 'to-do list', one of them was to just breathe. You know the feeling, when you need to 'take time out', 'have a breather' or just stop whatever it is that seems to be making you feel like there aren't enough hours in the day. My favourite time of the day to stop - breakfast. Yum.

Moving on swiftly, do you remember who the Head Boy/Head Girl was at your school? You know that superhuman who managed to do absolutely everything whilst getting top marks and still managing to be a really really nice person? Yes, that person who you love to hate. Alright Chantal, don't mince your words - I wasn't Head Girl so I'm acting like I have some unchallenged right to say this. Then again, I should know better because one of my closest friends was and I love her no less. Anyway, there is a point to all of this. That likeable, over-achieving and, quite frankly, almost perfect individual appears to be the majority of medical students that I seem to come across. 

I say all of this having spent my Saturday afternoon at my university's medics careers fair. Yes, not only do we have our own sports teams, orchestra, ski trip and Domino's discount card (50% off, I kid you not) but we also have our own careers fair. The barrage of posters, leaflets and freebies promoting the specialities available to us once we graduate felt - at least initially - pretty overwhelming. I didn't even know that the term 'medico-politics' existed, until I approached the Doctor at the stall and walked away feeling like I could be the next Secretary of State for Health. Watch out Jeremy Hunt. I actually started to get excited about the various career opportunities available to me once I managed to 'man up' (why is it that we use that phrase, I mean what would it  mean to 'woman up'? Insert feminist rant here. No, I'll leave that to the likes of Caitlin Moran). 

This disjointed entry probably reflects the abundance of thoughts that I've been trying to suppress in a bid to focus on essay deadlines. On a brighter note, the sun has got his hat on in Bristol and so the to-do list has been abandoned for the day. I must remember, there's always tomorrow. 

You'll never walk alone.

I'm not sure why I like to quote lines from films on this blog. I mean, I really haven't seen enough of them to make myself out to be some sort of hotshot film geek. I'm hoping this is the last (probably inappropriate) quote I use for a while, so here goes... 'Give me a word, any word, and I show you that the root of that word is Greek.' Courtesy of Gus Portokalos, the funniest character in the My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Sometimes I feel like medics tend to do that, we have a habit of making absolutely any conversation about Medicine.  It seems to give us a bit of a bad rep, but surely it's understandable? I mean, it's what we do. It's what we've 'always wanted to do' i.e.  since leaving the womb*. It's what we're always going to do. Right? 

Even so, it's surely human nature to relate everyday conversation to something you think that you know a lot about. Let's take a look at real-life example, cue the Blue Peter  quip 'here's one I made earlier':

I know nothing about football. Well, I know a bit more than some and a lot less than your average football fan so I guess I know VERY little about football. I do, however, know a thing or two about Hillsborough Stadium in Sheffield. Why, you ask? Well, the Hillsborough Disaster in 1985 saw the deaths of 96 Liverpool fans during an FA cup semi-final. A pivotal case emerged from this disaster which affected medical decision-making at the end of life, that of Anthony Bland. Bland was left brain damaged and in a 'persistent vegetative state' (a disorder of consciousness) after the disaster. In 1993, he finally won his battle to have the treatment that was keeping him alive withdrawn. This was a landmark case in both medical ethics and law. Don't say you heard it hear first, look it up: it's relevant.

It would be dishonest to say, 'Give me a word, any word, and I'll show you that it's somehow linked to Medicine. But just ask me what I know about football, just once and I might just surprise you. 

*After writing this entry, I realised that it might be unfair to presume that there isn't at least one person who knew that they wanted to be a doctor just seconds after taking their first gasp of air and crying their eyes out in the midwife's arms. My sincere apologies if this applies to you.