A medical student without a hospital
Item
Title
A medical student without a hospital
Experience
A typical day now, mid-Covid, is simply the total opposite of clinical rotations. Now I usually wake up whenever suits, sans alarm, and rather than quickly getting ready and scurrying to the John Radcliffe, Warneford, or Churchill for a long day, I simply migrate down to the garden and enjoy a leisurely breakfast in the (often present) sunshine.
Initially it was difficult to fill the days with something new - our student world was changed rather suddenly and adapting was pretty surreal - but now I'm delving into languages that haven't been studied for a good while, actually getting through those books that previously had been one chapter a week - if I wasn't too tired or busy, utilising the comforts of a well-stocked kitchen with regular cooking and baking (i.e., using up the household supply of scarce flour), exercising, spending time with family, and generally relaxing - on the premise that this may be the last period of relative serenity before work as a doctor begins, and should thus be appreciated and used wisely. Had the pandemic happened a year later, things would be very different.
Medicine hasn't left the picture entirely, however - despite unscuessful attempts to help at local GPs (they're too quiet to need any, fortunately) I'm doing a little work each day, and naturally everything Covid is ever-present, coming in waves of headlines and academic papers.
The most surreal (and frustrating, at times) aspect is seeing and hearing from colleagues and other health workers who are still on the front line, now veiled in PPE - I'll be watching a news report with family, say, and some beeps will go off in the background - not at all unfamiliar, just a blood pressure monitor having done its job. Much of the equipment is recognisable, the protocols, what that little symbol scribbled on the whiteboard means. Yet I'm here, sitting on a couch over a hundred miles away - just watching, powerless to help, along with everyone else.
Initially it was difficult to fill the days with something new - our student world was changed rather suddenly and adapting was pretty surreal - but now I'm delving into languages that haven't been studied for a good while, actually getting through those books that previously had been one chapter a week - if I wasn't too tired or busy, utilising the comforts of a well-stocked kitchen with regular cooking and baking (i.e., using up the household supply of scarce flour), exercising, spending time with family, and generally relaxing - on the premise that this may be the last period of relative serenity before work as a doctor begins, and should thus be appreciated and used wisely. Had the pandemic happened a year later, things would be very different.
Medicine hasn't left the picture entirely, however - despite unscuessful attempts to help at local GPs (they're too quiet to need any, fortunately) I'm doing a little work each day, and naturally everything Covid is ever-present, coming in waves of headlines and academic papers.
The most surreal (and frustrating, at times) aspect is seeing and hearing from colleagues and other health workers who are still on the front line, now veiled in PPE - I'll be watching a news report with family, say, and some beeps will go off in the background - not at all unfamiliar, just a blood pressure monitor having done its job. Much of the equipment is recognisable, the protocols, what that little symbol scribbled on the whiteboard means. Yet I'm here, sitting on a couch over a hundred miles away - just watching, powerless to help, along with everyone else.
Message to the future
Things change, and can do so faster and more entirely than you think.
Date
2020-04 See all items with this value
Where
Nottinghamshire, UK
About the pictures
Picture 1 (mug and garden): A typical set up for current lockdown life - a relative bought me the mug several years ago, when I got into medicine, which feels quite a while ago now.
Picture 2 (sunset): Discovering beautiful walks around my hometown with the family in the distance. I'd never realised half of these routes existed before, or how rural we really are.
Picture 3 (poster): My Oxford student accommodation the day before we discovered our course was being suspended due to Covid - I came back from lectures to see these had been posted up. Little did we know how fast things were changing that week..
Picture 4 (test kit): Last week I was invited to take a Covid-19 home test for research by the C-19 app I'm using. Sampling wasn't a pleasant experience, but as medical students hopefully heading back in some weeks, we may need to get used to it!
Picture 5 (road sign): The one time I have left my local area in the past 2 months or so, to have a blood test - taken in Sheffield, S Yorks, early on in the lockdown.
Picture 2 (sunset): Discovering beautiful walks around my hometown with the family in the distance. I'd never realised half of these routes existed before, or how rural we really are.
Picture 3 (poster): My Oxford student accommodation the day before we discovered our course was being suspended due to Covid - I came back from lectures to see these had been posted up. Little did we know how fast things were changing that week..
Picture 4 (test kit): Last week I was invited to take a Covid-19 home test for research by the C-19 app I'm using. Sampling wasn't a pleasant experience, but as medical students hopefully heading back in some weeks, we may need to get used to it!
Picture 5 (road sign): The one time I have left my local area in the past 2 months or so, to have a blood test - taken in Sheffield, S Yorks, early on in the lockdown.
Item sets
This item was submitted on May 18, 2020
