Who ate all the (mince) pies? Me, apparently.

Turkey demolished? Check. Watched the Downton Abbey Christmas Special? Let's not even go there, but yes, check. Twitter guilt trip? Massive check.

Slumped on the sofa, pretty impressed by my hearty appetite/appalled by my over-indulgence, I was horrified to find that the first comment on my twitter feed read '5 ways to cut calories on Christmas Day'. I'm so stunned (and full) that I can't even muster up the energy to use an exclamation mark to express my dismay. Oh dear Chantal, so melodramatic. 

Fine, for the sake of argument I'll play devil's advocate. Let's take a look at the statistics. In the UK, 60.8% of adults were classified as overweight and over 25% of adults classified as obese in 2009 and the figures are rising. Fast. We're all very aware that there's a problem that isn't restricted to our friends across the Atlantic. Enough scaremongering, I thought I'd make an (albeit pretty poor) attempt to justify my food intake this Christmas - here goes...

It's a given that we overdo it but surely Christmas lunch is the one meal a year where we throw all of our health concerns out of the window? I'm all for living healthy lifestyles but nothing beats a good Christmas spread! And now that I think about it, Santa's not looking so great around the waistline but you don't see anyone making him feel bad about it do you?

'Heal the broken hearted and bind up their wounds.'

It would've been a pretty average journey on the London Underground during the Friday 'rush hour' if I hadn't chosen to sit where I did. Five minutes into sifting through the day's copy of the Metro, the lady next to me burst into song. I have absolutely no idea what language she was singing in, or what she was singing about but it was utterly enchanting. She sounded so wonderfully happy and the feeling certainly rubbed off on me! Well, until I realised that I was the only person who seemed to be enjoying it. The straight laced business men shuffled about uncomfortably and tried to avoid eye contact, the school kids laughed and pointed, and a nervous looking woman even moved carriage. 

Their various reactions surprised me. Okay I know the weather's dreary, we're all feeling a bit snuffly and there are still countless more presents to buy but on that very same day 27 people died in a shooting at a school in Connecticut - 20 of them children. Hearts all over the world ache for the loved ones who endured such a tragic event. Whether you celebrate Christmas for religious reasons or not, President Obama's use of the biblical quote 'Heal the broken hearted and bind up their wounds.' (Psalm 147:3) rings loud and clear to all of us. 

Honestly, I don't mean to preach. I'm one of those annoying people who gets excited about Christmas as soon as Halloween is over (I give my sincere apologies to those of you who walk around with 'bah, humbug!' etched across your foreheads)! I simply grin at the idea of us all being as happy as the lady I was fortunate enough to sit next to on the tube, even if it is just for a few days each year. This Christmas, many families aren't going to experience that happiness. So when we're surrounded by the people that we so greatly care about during the festive season, spare a thought for those who aren't as fortunate. Christmas is a time for giving right? Well, economic climate pushed aside, one gift is absolutely free. A smile. 

As a forewarning, I have absolutely nothing against cheddar.

I have heaps of respect for the 'mature' medics that I come across every so often. Although  I think that describing them as such makes them sound like a particularly strong cheddar, there's something really admirable about embarking on a degree later than the average student (particularly having already studied, worked full-time, travelled for several years or had children). Their extra years of 'life' experience got me thinking, is it necessary  (or even fair) to ask young people to choose the 'right' GCSEs or A-Levels and, therefore, make career choices at such an early age?

I'd hope that the majority of you would agree that five or six years is a pretty long time to be at university. Just three years in and it's only now that I've discovered that I picked my future career at sixteen. Sixteen! I'm not saying I regret it. In fact, I'm proud that my sixteen year old self was switched on enough to make such a brilliant decision. Nevertheless, I was still pretty young. By seventeen, I was preparing for that question in medical school interviews - 'So Chantal, why do you want to study Medicine?' Aged twenty-one, I'm asking myself that question again. I think my answer is more well-informed now. And by the time I'm a retired GP/Surgeon/Beyonce impersonator, I'm sure that answer will have evolved into something beyond my wildest imagination. 

I see the similarity, even if you don't.
(Source: http://iam.beyonce.com/)

One of my best friends often says, 'We're all just products of our environment.' I think she has a point, your experiences guide you and affect your outlook in all areas of your life. I've had little clinical exposure so far but from the few patient interactions I've had I feel like I'm going down the right path. Professional guidelines advise Doctors to always put the patient first. In 2010, the NHS enshrined this in the slogan 'Nothing about me, without me' (Source: Equity and excellence: Liberating the NHS). I completely agree with this. Shared decision-making is and will continue to be the way forward.  But funnily enough, there is a 'me' enshrined in the word 'Medicine' and I think it's easy to forget that. That 'me' initially wanted to do Medicine for one or two seemingly decent reasons and I hope that as I grow older, more experienced and (hopefully) more knowledgeable those reasons will increase in number and potency.

*Notice how I never tell you what my 'reasons' are - if all else fails, I'll have a go at being a politician.

Putting down the four-way biro.

I had one of 'those' moments yesterday, I'd call it an 'epiphany' if I felt like being melodramatic. I don't. You see, you're meeting me for the first time in what I call a transition state. I'm young, still pretty naive and I have no idea what the future holds but, as of yesterday, I've decided that that's okay. In fact, it's more than okay - it's marvellous. I don't really see this as a 'blog' but instead an insight into my thoughts, feelings, ambitions, concerns and, sometimes, just into who or what is making me laugh/cry/seethe with anger at random moments in my life. Pardon me if it's a little disjointed at times, I'll work on it. I promise. Part of me is wondering why I don't just write a diary (at least my mistakes wouldn't be out there for you all to see) but, for some reason, I've never been good at that. This could be a huge mistake or a stroke of genius. I hope for the latter, but then again, I guess it's out of my control. 

I'd say that for the last decade, one of my most trustworthy acquaintances has been a pretty dull, inanimate object - the four-way biro. I'm sure that the sound of me zealously clicking away in lecture theatres has given many of my classmates nightmares but it's been my trusty steed and I'm sure it will continue to be.

Last night, I was privileged enough to hear a phenomenal woman speak to a group of  medical students about how 'lucky' we were to be going into such an incredible profession. To date, I've heard that countless times and I'm sure many more doctors will continue to remind me. Personally, I was particularly struck by one statement she made - 'Students are the last brave people left on earth.' I don't consider myself 'brave' at all. But then again maybe I'm being self deprecating. It's taking a lot of courage not to hide behind my obsessively neat and colourful notes and keep my thoughts to myself. I'm putting down the four-way biro, and letting you all in.