"Hello"

BUZZ.

You may enter the station.

"Hello, my name is Tania and I'm one of the medical students, can I confirm your name and age please?" 

Seeing as I've decided to start writing about my life as a medical student (again; I used to write one years ago) I figured I may as well set the scene as if it were an OSCE (for the uninformed - Objectively Structured Clinical Examinations - my practical tests during medical school). Me, with my purple stethoscope round my name, nervously asking permission from a stranger if it's ok to talk to them and maybe, if they're lucky, prod and poke them where it hurts. Pretty delightful. Oh, let's not forget that everything we talk about is confidential and will remain between us and the medical team. Pretty important point to make if they're here for something awkward like sexual health. But let's not tell them about the few cases in which confidentiality could be broken just yet. This introduction is already kinda long. Oh god.

They agree. Phew. Not a difficult patient from the offset then - thank fuck.

"Great! So how about we begin by you telling me what's been going on?" 

Now I have an idea from the vignette I read just before entering the station. Patient's presenting with a serious problem.

"I can understand that must be quite difficult."  Empathy points, doesn't matter how rehearsed and wooden it sounds. It's an OSCE. Checklist exercises all around. George's would be proud. Communication skills for the win. This patient must think I'm such a people's person!

And then the barrage of questions, trying to formulate a diagnosis in my mind, ruling out red-flags, etc. Getting a decent history whilst on the spot can be quite tough, you often need a good checklist in your head for every type of history you're taking. Have I forgotten anything? Did I ICE? Patient is looking sad. Is that a cue for family problems? What's their mental health like? Oh god, are they depressed!? Let me quickly scre-

BUZZ. 

One minute remaining.

Shieeet. Examiner is asking me for a differential diagnosis. Errrrr, okay, which differential will make me sound less of an idiot and more like someone who deserves £250k of taxpayer's money?

"Diabeetus." When in doubt, just say something common. Examiner goes to type something on the tablet. Anything else? Ummmm. I'll mumble another random differential. What would be my first line investigations? Start off with a system - quick and easy bedside tests and examinations, then stuff like blood tests, and then some sort of scan. I list off whatever I would do for someone with those symptoms.

BUZZ. 

End of station.

Well, RIP me. At least that one's over. Now to leave my past mistakes behind and move onto the next station!

-

Anyways. I'm pleased to say I only have one more year of student misery left before I graduate, and face many more years of post-grad misery. May as well write about it so if anyone feels the need to read it,  they can share in my cynical experiences.

Just kidding, it's not that bad. Actually have quite a fun time. But it seems to be the norm that all medics just moan and groan about the hardships they face in life, especially when they are no longer the fresh-faced, motivated young school-leavers excited at the prospect of taking blood for the first time. And I am no different to the norm.

It'd been a long half-a-decade, I look forward to my final year 😁

-Tania