Perspective

Minimal words from me today - the video speaks for itself.

(Source: http://www.upworthy.com/this-kid-just-died-what-he-left-behind-is-wondtacular-rip)

Big Brother

Ever since reading George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, aged 16, I've felt mildly on edge about the idea that we live in an society with an increasing amount of surveillance. Forgive me if my initial statement sounds incredibly cynical. In all honesty, I do agree that CCTV and other monitoring systems tend to serve a great purpose in the majority of circumstances. I must say, I'm less of a fan when 'cookies' on my browser ensure that I have continual adverts tempting me with that pair of shoes that I desperately want (but cannot afford) keep popping up on the side of my Facebook page. 

The important thing that I'm trying to say here is that I think that there are some circumstances in which surreptitiously 'keeping an eye' on people is simply inappropriate – particularly in a healthcare setting. On the few occasions in which it has been done before by healthcare professionals who felt that their concerns had been ignored by the appropriate parties, undercover filming has certainly worked. Take the damning scenes at Winterbourne View revealed to the public back in 2001, for example...watch the video below if you haven't seen it already (I should warn you that some of the imaging may upset you).

                                                             (Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=subMgwyJOK8)

Despite this, the suggestion (albeit a few weeks back now, I'm behind with my blogging) that using hidden cameras could become part of the inspection regime in care homes next year still does not sit well with me. First and foremost, as the new adult social care chief inspector, Andrea Sutcliffe, rightly points out because of the need to respect the privacy and dignity of the residents of these homes. Perhaps we can justify filming ‘snapshots’ of poor care and retrospectively gaining consent from those who we have filmed in order to provide evidence to make a change. It might even be possible to say that doing so was necessary to get your voice heard in order to make positive changes for patient care.

I would argue that to condone undercover filming (and thus to make it a societal norm) seems to miss the point. Why don’t we deal with poor care before it happens, rather than try to catch truants out in a way which compromises the dignity of the vulnerable when it’s simply too late. Okay, rant over.

Pearls of wisdom

Source: http://www.spiritualistresources.com/cgi-bin/quotes/index.pl?read=131

If I had a penny, okay a pound, for every time a patient responded to the request to practice examining them said, 'Well, we all gotta learn', I would be a very rich medical student. (I'd like to add that this is said in a strong West-country accent, just so that you feel like you're really there.) I'm sure that the majority of my colleagues would agree.

Today has been no different except for the fact that one of the patients I met described themself as a 'whistleblower'. It was like my subconscious slapping me around the face and telling me to stop procrastinating. Why, you ask? Well I'm starting to get a little nervous actually, in exactly two weeks I'll be presenting my thoughts on whistleblowing (you might remember me going on about this during dissertation season) to a load of academics and healthcare professionals. My sphincters loosen up at the thought of it*

Within five minutes of meeting this patient, they had imparted their wise words on me 'Chantal, just remember when you become a doctor - if you're absolutely sure that you're right about something then never be afraid to speak up about it.' Like music to my ears. Well, until he told me that he was convinced that 'cannabis cures all ills.'

Each to their own.

*I sincerely apologise, poor medic joke. Yuck. 

'I wanna walk like you, talk like you, too.'

(Source: YouTube)

22 years old and content with being clueless as to what speciality I want to go into, I'm pretty easily swayed. If you: a) smile at me, b) try not to make me feel like I'm getting in your way and, c) make it look like you're loving what you do then I'll probably decide (at least for a day or two) that I want to do your job. It doesn't take much to convince me, clearly.

But my check-list works both ways, if you don't to any of the above then I probably can't think of anything worse than working in your speciality. I'm 99.9% sure that I'm not to the only medical student who has felt like a nuisance on the wards. Ward rounds can be a prime example of this - you follow a consultant, junior doctor and nurse around for a couple of hours and (sometimes) you are ignored by all of them.* But you're keen to learn, so you stay. Rumour has it one medical student got so attached on the ward round that he/she accidentally followed the consultant into the bathroom. Classic. 

Hospitals are busy places though, so I get it. Doctors, nurses and other professionals just don't always have the time to teach you. So I've changed tactic, those who know me well will know that I don't like to waste time. So rather than shuffling my feet uncomfortably, I've decided to find learning opportunities rather than wait for them to come my way. Why? Because my (limited) experience has informed me that teaching rarely comes to you. Thus far, it's working.

And in case you wondered why I've attached 'The Jungle Book' video, it's just a great song. It cheers me up. Go on, have a listen. 

*I would like to stress the fact that I've also been on a lot of great ward rounds where I've been taught by the staff, involved in the discussion and given the opportunity to present my own findings. I'm not 

Going back in time.

Walking into a cubicle, introducing myself and acquiring a patient's permission to ask them a few questions about what brought them into hospital and then to examine them. Sounds simple enough, until you're in A&E, the patient is seriously ill and you're the first person to see them. 

I learned the hard way this week, spending an hour with a patient only to realise that they were so confused (in the medical - not the academically challenged - sense) that the history that I had taken was essentially null & void. It was to be their partner and carer who would provide me with the history that would allow qualified members of the healthcare profession to attempt to make their loved one better.

Lesson 1. Sometimes the patient isn't the best person to tell you what's wrong with them.

Lesson 2. Sometimes they are.

On the flip side, some patients LOVE a good chinwag! They'll tell you everything about their health, family and day-to-day life without a moments pause. And it takes some guts to interrupt them mid-flow.. Despite the obvious time constraints, these are my favourite interactions. I often wonder how I find myself in such an honourable position. Why do people feel they can share so much of their life story with me? Some laugh, some cry, others just want to vent their frustrations. Either way I'm there, I'm listening, and most importantly I'm learning. 

Someone hang 'L' plates around my neck, please.

I have met four patients in my first week. Four. None of which seemed to realise that I was sweating profusely whilst practising my examination skills on them. Personally, I'm pretty pleased with that. I want to blame my body's reaction to the temperature in most of the hospital wards but that would be extremely dishonest. 

I need to take the positives from this week.

1. I managed to put on my stethoscope the right way around.
2. I have yet to get lost.
3. I am still smiling, even when inside I'm thinking 'WHY can't I remember the name of every cranial nerve?' (NB. Answer - because it's been a year since you've done any of this so chill out.)

There were moments when I've wanted to hide because I just can't comprehend how anyone could possibly remember the fountain of medical knowledge that exists. And then something happened that reminded me that there's more to this career than reeling off academic knowledge. My moment? Walking through a respiratory ward during visiting hours I spotted an elderly lady in one of the beds. She revealed a wide, toothy grin. She looked so happy, not because she was feeling 100% I'm sure but because someone had taken the time to come into hospital to wash and blowdry her hair for her. I'm not sure that my peers noticed her as we walked through the ward, and I know it seems like a small thing, but it was a gentle reminder that I'm embarking on a great journey and that it'll be worth it for grins just like that.

Just keep swimming

It's been a while and, admittedly, this is a short entry but reality seems to have just hit me. 10 days till I'm back at university. 10 days until I embark on the second and final half of medical school. 10 days until I realise that I'm going to need to have a browse through my colour co-ordinated notes so that I don't feel stupid when a consultant asks me the most basic of questions during bedside teaching.

Am I nervous? No. Apprehensive? Mildly. Excited? Most definitely. It feels like I've taken a sabbatical or something. Having had a year to gain an extra degree and learn a lot about myself in the process, I have absolutely no regrets. The highs and lows will also provide a lot of blogging material so watch this space...

I will need to purchase a bulk pack of four-way biros though. 

Getting the message across.

It seems that when it comes to advertisements - like Marmite - people tend to love them or hate them. Without meaning to, I've taken particular interest to them lately. Whilst one might consider them to be a bit of a nuisance in between your favourite programme on television or songs on the radio, I'm starting to realise the power that they have. 

Take for example the current O2 advert (see video below)...I highly doubt that I am the only one who was left highly confused by a cat who told us to 'be more dog'. What any kind of domestic animal has to do with a major mobile network, I'm not too sure. BUT, the advert got us talking right? #bemoredog started trending on Twitter - surely suggesting that the advert was a huge success for the company.

(Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMzgl0nFj3s)

What is true though, is that not all adverts use the 'baffle your audience' approach to sell their products or to get their message across. Take the current 'Underwear Rule' campaign that has been put forward by the NSPCC. Simple and effective radio and television adverts providing parents with a guide on how keep their children by protecting them from child abuse. No flashing lights. No gimmicks. The NSPCC have simply provided their solution to a problem for any parent. Now that's what I call good advertising. 

*Read more about 'The Underwear Rule' NSPCC campaign here*

I’m considering training in general practice. But don’t go spreading that around, okay?

This entry is taken directly from a blog I wrote for an online magazine; due to restricted access I have copied it to my personal blog.

I’m halfway through my medical school career at the moment, having finished two years’ pre-clinical medicine and a one-year intercalated degree in bioethics, but unlike my peers I’m also pretty sceptical about the view that general practice is a ‘cop-out’ or a ‘safe option’ for tomorrow’s doctors.

Like many other medical students, I find talking to patients comes pretty naturally. It’s the one part of medical school that I don’t have to Google (it might be more accurate to say – shamefully - Wikipedia), look up in a textbook or guiltily seize the precious time of an enlightened qualified doctor to do well.

My GP placement in the first two years at medical school provided an early opportunity to practice taking a history and examining patients outside of the busy ward environment. The GPs tactically ‘pick’ patients whose symptoms could have been drawn directly from a textbook. I saw classic examples of ‘pink puffers’ and ‘blue bloaters’ on the respiratory placement, heard a heart murmur on the cardiology placement and practiced a cranial nerve examination on a man with Bell’s palsy during the neurology placement. Not only did these patients reinforce scientific teaching but they were also keen to help students learn and forgiving when we didn’t get things right first time.

Yet despite many of my peers having similar positive learning experiences in general practice, many of them still have an aversion to general practice. A fellow medical student told me: ‘Certainly there are those who see it as a back-up job if their attempts to get into other specialties fail. You often hear of people saying, “Oh, if that doesn’t work out I’ll just be a GP.”’ Many of my non-medic friends wonder why I would want to be a GP; pretty 20-somethings view GPs as their ‘go to’ for the morning after pill or antibiotics when their glands are up because they’ve overdone it at university.

Personally, I see a lack of appreciation for what you might call our ‘front-line’ doctors. Maybe it’s because general practice doesn’t seem as glamorous as the specialties; there’s no denying that there is certainly a difference between working in a GPsurgery and working on a hospital ward. Even so, it seems to me that both jobs come with different (and equally valid) pressures.

I’m no Debbie Downer though. I can see that attitudes are changing. A student-led primary care conference organised by Bristol GPSoc earlier this year revealed that you can be ‘more than just a GP’. GPs with special interests such as sexual health, academic GPs and GPs who work abroad gave talks that challenged the misconceptions that many of us – perhaps ignorantly - had about a career in general practice. Despite this, and the existence of ‘gutsy’ movers and shakers in the GP world like Prof Clare Gerada, you’ll still meet many more medical students who declare that they’d rather be a paediatrician or orthopaedic surgeon than a GP.

If medic ‘street cred’ exists then, am I surrendering mine by still liking the idea of a career in general practice?

Taken from: http://www.pulsetoday.co.uk/views/blogs/pulse-team/im-considering-training-in-general-practice-but-dont-go-spreading-that-around-okay/20003556.blog#.Ud-2wUG1HR0

Let's get ethical, ethical.

I pray you either:

a) Sing the title of this entry in the same way you would sing the song ‘Let’s get physical’ by Olivia Newton-John. I don’t know why I know that she sang that song, I certainly wasn’t alive when it was released. NB. See the video below in case you don’t know it and would like to spice up your day. You may know the Madonna version better? Anyway...

b) Ignore the title and move swiftly on.

If you opted for the latter, shame on you! You’re no fun.

It has struck me that healthcare related ethics have featured a lot in the press this month. Here’s my round up (click on the links if you fancy reading more): 

• An ‘opt-out’ scheme for organ donation in Wales was passed on 2^nd July. This means that when someone dies, consent for their organs to be donated is presumed. It’s not quite as simple as that though, as the system acknowledges vetoes by family members and friends of long standing. The debate continues…
• Abortion, as always, is hitting headlines again. Whilst politicians debated throughout the night on allowing limited abortions in the Republic of Ireland, the latest figures by the Department of Health show that there has been a fall in teenage abortion rates in England and Wales.
• The Guardian told the story of Paul Chamberlain, 66, who suffers with Motor Neuron Disease. His articulate and sincere account on his decision to obtain drugs from overseas so that he can terminate his life as and when he feels necessary raises questions about current policy on assisted dying.

I’ve come to realise, people say that they're not particularly interested in ethics in the same way that they say that they don't care for politics. It’s easy to say that it doesn't affect you, but really it does. Maybe we’re just not comfortable enough with these issues to engage with them.

A journalistic alter ego?

If you were to look for me right at this very moment you would find me behind a computer, at a desk, in an office full of lots of other people also furiously typing away. They may be replying to emails, writing news stories, chasing up leads, or maybe just updating their Facebook status. I've been sitting here for about an two and a half hours now. I can see The Shard dominating the skyline outside and the Thames is looking pretty calm too. I can't say that I would have imagined myself here a year ago. 

This is day two of a two week internship. I'm on a quest to find out if I have a shot at/am any good at journalism. Hold on!  Whilst pleased to have a BSc now (yes, you don't have to hear me wittering on about writing essays or dissertations anymore), I don't plan to throw in the towel and quit the world of Medicine. This is fun though, very different to blogging.

I am, however, pretty chuffed to have published my first ever online news article (link is at the bottom of the page) and I'm currently working on a second one. Yeah, I should get back to that - but will keep you updated on my Rita Skeeter-esque endeavours! 

This is Rita Skeeter. Even if I'm not the best journalist in the world, I'd hope that I have a better dress sense than her. 

LINK TO MY FIRST NEWS STORY - CLICK HERE 

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. 

Raison d'être

If there's one thing that I've learned whilst studying Bioethics, it's that there are some people who really do spend the majority of their time answering abstract questions that I've never really bothered to give the time of day before. In a seminar today, a tutor briefly mentioned that there is an ongoing debate on what it means 'to be' and I started to ponder on that myself. Now, I don't know whether I'm spending too much time in the Ethics department at the moment or if I'm taking the twisted genius of Charlie Brooker's 'The Black Mirror' series on Channel 4 a bit too seriously but I'm feeling inquisitive. (If you haven't watched The Black Mirror yet, please do - mind-boggling stuff and it makes for fabulous dinner party discussion.)

(Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdxucpPq6Lc)

The video above is sure to get you thinking in more ways than any of the words in this blog entry will. It's about ontology (meaning the nature of existence or being), a philosophical concept that I can't say I come across everyday but I'm partial to a good cartoon if it distracts me from what I'm really supposed to be doing. I saw it for the first time about a year ago and, although it's a bit dated, it does the trick. Philosophy, it seems, is often too abstract for the 'average Joe' to make sense of (I'm speaking from experience, trust me) but making it this accessible opens up a Pandora's Box of questions that I didn't know that I had bubbling up inside me. See where the video takes you, anyone fancy hedging bets on how soon it becomes a reality? 

I'm not a risk-taker myself, so I'm going to err on the side of caution by sitting on the fence with a cup of tea in hand as I'm not sure we're going to agree on definitions of the reason for existence anytime soon. 

Contemplation or confession?

There you go, I'm sharing my mantra for the week. I like to think that, on occasion, we all face obstacles (nothing too awful, just a minor glitch). I see it as the equivalent to Shakespeare getting writer's block or Michael Jackson forgetting how to moonwalk. Yes, the last analogy was a tad far-fetched but you understand the point I'm trying to make. 

It tends to make me feel better that even the great Professor Brian Cox got a 'D' in A-level Maths and Winston Churchill was expelled from school. I'd like to point out that I can't say that I've experienced either of the above but what I'm trying to get at is the reassurance I feel when I learn that other people - actually not just 'people' but well-respected folk - find things difficult too.

It's easy to be too embarrassed, too proud or just too uptight to admit that sometimes you're just having a bad day or finding something difficult.  I'm writing this in the hope that you can relate to times like that. My reason for doing so isn't so that you start viewing the glass as half-empty, I'm just saying that every so often my glass isn't half-full. When I put everything into perspective the one thing that feels like a massive hurdle to overcome really isn't as bad as I thought and then, on days like today, I forget what it was that bothered me in the first place. 

Onwards and upwards.

I suppose that it's ironic that I should find myself on a bed in Accident and Emergency on a day that has, in the minds of most, proved devastating for the NHS. Insight is a powerful thing, and so watching countless doctors and nurses whizz past my cubicle triggered a few thoughts. 

We all knew that the report regarding the failings of the Mid Staffordshire NHS Foundation Trust was coming and it did so with gusto. So as to avoid boring you with a relentless diatribe I'll let you do the research yourself and attempt to sum up Francis QC's near 4000 page strong report up in one sentence -  the current system failed its patients. (To listen to the man himself watch the video at the bottom of the page.) Before you think/say it, I agree, it's not as simple as that. But it would be foolish of me to provide you with a fair in-depth analysis of the workings of a system that I have yet to work in.  

A lack of accountability seems to be the main criticism of the inquiry but I am going to choose to leave this to one side. Call me a coward but given that today's inquiry formed the fifth attempt at identifying the problem I want to focus on how our healthcare system can move on from such revelations instead. My reason for this? Well I have two actually:

1. I plan to work in the NHS myself - August 2016 - ? 
2. With our ageing population, I'm probably going to require the services of an NHS professional (or two) at some point.

My focus - encouraging and protecting 'whistleblowing'. By this I mean trying to find a way to foster a culture in which individuals in the profession feel like they can speak out if they have a concern about patient care or safety. How? Funny you should ask, that's going to form the basis for my dissertation. I'll let you know how it goes (15,000 words and 1500 cups of tea later).

(Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4lySJlm1EnM)

The Impatient Optimist

Imagine that you are 18 years old and you've secured a place at Harvard. At 20 years old,  you quit Harvard. With the support of your parents, you decide to start up what will become the world's largest and most successful PC software company with an old school friend. You are a billionaire by the age of 31. To date you remain one of the wealthiest men on the planet and your children will only inherit 'a miniscule portion' of your wealth (Source: http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/pda/2011/jun/13/bill-gates-charity-microsoft).  I should probably add that 'miniscule' is said to equate to about 10 million dollars. Anyway, each to their own. You are also a philanthropist. If you don't know who you're supposed to be yet, you're Bill Gates. 

(Source: www.microsoft.com)

I must admit that I knew very little about Bill Gates until I watched him give his speech at The Richard Dimbleby Lecture last week. I did have my preconceptions, as I'm sure we all do occasionally, but leaving those to one side he made a lot of thought-provoking points. The 'internal optimists' - that's how Mr and Mrs Gates describe themselves* - and their current plan: to eradicate polio. Polio, or poliomyelitis, is an infectious disease which enters the body through the mouth and nose and then goes on to develop in the throat and gut. If it goes on to invade the central nervous system then it can cause damage to the nerve cells which control our muscles (motor neurons). Here's a fun fact that might come in handy during a pub quiz one day  -  Mary Berry (the nation's favourite baking granny) had polio as a child, back when they called it 'Infantile Paralysis'. We're lucky in the UK, times have changed and now every baby is automatically offered the polio vaccination - so the risk of acquiring it here is virtually nil, but this is not the case elsewhere in the world. 

Since the universal eradication of smallpox in 2011, individuals all over the world have carried a glimmer of hope that we will go on to eradicate even more diseases. Polio is the next on that list, and I'm not shy about saying that there are many, many more that we need  to spread the word about. Bill Gates is one man (granted, with a lot of money) but he also has a voice. Here's to taking a leaf out of his book and shouting even louder. In a society where it's easy to take a National Health Service with the availability of free vaccinations for granted it doesn't hurt to remind each other that 'All Lives Have Equal Value'.

*For more about the incredible work that Bill Gates and his wife are involved in see http://www.impatientoptimists.org/

'Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.'

The quote used in the title of this entry was actually written by Marianne Williamson. Although, you may recognise it as (arguably) the most poignant quote from one of my favourite films - Coach Carter - featuring Samuel L. Jackson. It wouldn't be very honest of me to say that my deepest fear is that I'm powerful beyond measure. In fact, for the last couple of years it's been quite the opposite. I'm not proud of it but passing the first two years of medical school was driven by a fear of failure. 

And, to tell you the truth, it's worked thus far. Despite that fact, I don't want a fear of failure to be my driving force to do well anymore. I haven't sat an exam for 7 months - a ridiculously long time for a medical student and not something that I would say that I have a grievance about. Whether I like it or not though, I'm going to be sitting exams throughout my career and so I reckon I'm going to need to find a new approach. Franklin D. Roosevelt famously said, 'There is nothing to fear but fear itself.' I'm sure that his words mean a lot to many but, personally, I never really could relate them.

(Source: http://www.ted.com/talks/jk_rowling_the_fringe_benefits_of_failure.html)

Instead I look to the person who coined the terms 'expelliarmus', 'muggle' and 'quidditch' for an eloquent account of the benefits of failure. Logical. I've decided that sussing out the cause of my fear makes more sense than wracking my brains trying to define fear itself. J.K. Rowling did a stunning job of convincing me that failure is nothing to be scared of. I would recommend that you have a listen too (click on the YouTube link above). Having listened to it I'm feeling pretty positive, but also mildly gutted that I didn't graduate from Harvard in 2008. 'It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all, in which case you have failed by default.'

Deep. 

'...the most sophisticated, professionalized and successful doping programme that the sport has ever seen.'

I don't write this blog because I'm an avid sports fan (although I'm partial to a spot of netball  and watch lots of sport on TV for more reasons than London 2012). This is simply a blog written by a medical student who you may think is particularly over-opinionated. Touché. However, having watched the Lance Armstrong interview with Oprah, I think that I join the rest of the world in being truly disappointed and disgusted by a plethora of lies that not only has repercussions for cycling but for the entire sporting world. I'm sorry if I appear to lack empathy (a skill that is simply a must for a medical student) but this is one occasion in which I'm really, really struggling to see it from his point of view.

(Source: http://blog.zap2it.com/frominsidethebox/2013/01/lance-armstrongs-oprah-interview-watch-the-live-stream-online.html)

What struck me most was Armstrong's response to watching recordings of himself lying to his fans, to the public, to his sponsors, to himself. I can't tell if the man sitting opposite Oprah was the same man who told all those lies. I'm not sure that I sensed the existence of a remorseful individual in between those nervous chuckles. What he did show us though, is that he was still defensive. What was he expecting from his claim that he hadn't taken performance enhancing drugs since 2005 - a standing ovation? Why did he sidestep around the questions we wanted answers to? And what about the other individuals who assisted Armstrong in the deceit? I'm appalled that those individuals included doctors - the professionals expected to practice Medicine 'with conscience and dignity' (Declaration of Geneva 1948, Physician's Oath). 

Coincidentally, this interview brings into question a topic that I'm currently researching - the value of conscience. Having concluded that mankind values moral integrity, I'm left reeling at the thought that it might be possible that there are individuals out there that really don't have a conscience. At the time Armstrong was doping, he genuinely didn't consider himself to be cheating. To quote Mr Armstrong himself, taking banned substances was akin to saying that 'we have to have air in our tyres or we have to have water in our bottles. That was, in my view, part of the job.' A damning quote which, for once, leaves me speechless. 

Didn't you know that it's bad luck to walk under a ladder?

The word 'inspire' came up quite a few times in my life this week. Just so you know, I'm not one of those superstitious types. I mean obviously I have a lucky number, my weekly horoscope always comes true and I NEVER put brand new shoes on a table. Nevertheless, I feel like this word keeps popping up in random places for some unbeknown reason.

Over dinner last term, I found myself engaged in a heated debate with my peers over role-models (as Bioethics students do..hmm). From what I remember, pretty much the only thing that we all agreed on was that it's wrong to idolise someone. So all you 'Beliebers' out there, I'd advise you not to cross any of our paths. 

(Source: http://sites.psu.edu/taliatyndall/2012/11/01/bald-for-bieber/)

I don't entirely agree. Someone who inspires may be a role-model and they don't have to be an all-singing, all-dancing teen sensation. I had tea with my old French teacher earlier this week and she showed me the thank you/retirement card I gave her when I was fourteen. Inside it, I thanked her for inspiring me by encouraging me to persevere with languages although I found them difficult. 

A friend of mine bought a book this week called 'What The Most Successful People Do Before Breakfast' as she was feeling motivated, 'Carpe Diem' she said.   Incredible, I thought. Maybe she was feeling inspired. By seizing the day, she encouraged me to want to seize mine. 

So does it matter what form a role-model comes in? Is it relevant whether your inspiration comes from a relative, teacher, friend, musician or a complete stranger? I think not. Nevertheless, I do accept that I often come across as though I see the world through rose tinted spectacles so if you disagree with me then fair play to you. I'm open to suggestions. Until then, 'Hakuna matata'. No worries.  

'When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies'

*Firstly, I feel I should thank the Pussycat Dolls for providing young girls with such high aspirations. 

                      (Source: www.graphicsbeam.com/inspiration/classic-album-cover-designs/)

I've always been one of the oldest in my school year. Secretly, I was pretty proud of that fact as it definitely meant that I could always play the 'but I'm older than you' card whenever I wanted my own way. Now, a lot of my (non-medic) friends are currently trying to find work experience, work out which careers they want to go into and apply for internships and jobs. And all of a sudden I feel extremely young.

They say that I'm lucky - 'Chantie, at least you know what job you're going to do.' Maybe. But it's a long way off right? By the time I've finished university, if all goes well, most of those friends will have been working and earning for 2-3 years. They'll be grown-ups. It's a curious position to be in. Currently, I'm loving intercalating. I'm learning to question my actions and not just regurgitate the facts given to me in a pharmacology textbook. Medicine versus Bioethics. The right thing to do versus the right thing to do?  It's also a year for me to, like my friends, be sure that this is the career that I want to go into.

Despite having made slow progress on my law essay during this holiday, I can see the benefit of this year and I'm really enjoying managing my own time. Even so, I'm missing Medicine. Maybe I am young, but it's not a bad thing. No responsibility, no worries, no pressure.  I used one of those online countdown timers to work out (roughly) how long it'll be before I graduate. The answer? 1300 days. When put like that, it doesn't seem quite that long? Fine, I'm living in a fool's paradise.  But a Doctor by 2016? Bring it on.