The Inspirational Baroness Cox

Yesterday my school held a "Make a Difference Day", a day of seminars and fundraising activities for the whole school. The day was manic, there were pupils busking on the school site, endless bake sales, a coconut shy and a fun run. The causes that this was all for varied hugely in scope and purpose. From freedom of speech and saving the whales to providing earthquake relief, our eyes were opened to the many ways that we can make a difference.
One of the speeches that I watched was given by Baroness Cox, a truly amazing woman. Caroline Cox is a member of the House of Lords, a nurse, the founder and CEO of Humanitarian Aid Relief Trust (abbreviated to HART) and most importantly an all round wonderwoman. She told us with complete humility the work that HART does, providing humanitarian aid to any country that needs it. Run by a mere four people, the organisation focuses on countries that have largely been ignored or forgotten by the media of the world.
HART give aid to people that are oppressed or persecuted and, as it says on their website, they currently work on behalf of and in collaboration with local people in Armenia, Nagorno-Karabakh, Burma, India, Nigeria, Sudan, Timor Leste, Uganda and Egypt. A key part of their strategy, which I found to be innovative, is to use "local partners" in the countries that they help in order to achieve their goal. This means that they find the local people in charge, and give them a helping hand to start up hospitals, schools or housing in the area. I thought this strategy seemed very wise; rather than introducing a state of dependency on the organisation, this encourages local pride and cooperation, and gives a clear end point to the aid mission, but they can stay if needed.
Baroness Cox held the year group in awe as she told us about helicopter journeys fleeing heat-seeking missiles, jungle treks and earthquakes, but I found the most hard-hitting stories to be personal ones about individuals that she met.
One such recount was set in an area of South Sudan, ravaged by civil war that broke out in 2003, where tensions are still high as clashes between government forces, rebels and rival ethnic groups leave civilians in desperate need of medication, healthcare and a refuge from the violence. Baroness Cox told us how she was on standby while a both woman's legs needed to be amputated. In that region at that time, there were no analgesics on hand whatsoever. This surgery was done with no painkillers, only some alcohol that was administered to the patient once the surgery had begun. The woman survived the operation, but was in utter agony. On her next trip home, the Baroness described how she stockpiled as many of the strongest painkillers she could get her hands on, sometimes via illegal dealings. When she got them back to South Sudan, the villagers gratitude was immense. She said that the way she got them over the border was a story for another time...
Throughout her talk Baroness Cox described the wonderful people that she met and the hardships that they face. One village of people in Burma had their whole street burned to the ground, as all the houses were made of wood, and so had to trek across the jungle, fleeing the local soldiers that had been commanded to shoot on site any civilian in the area. Entire families carried everything they own on their backs, through dense jungle and unclean rivers. The jungle there, she told us, is not tropical; it is mountainous which means it is very cold at night. If they swam through a river, they could not light a fire to dry themselves because the smoke would be seen by soldiers, and so they walked sopping wet for miles and slept damp on the floor.
Baroness Cox told us about her journeys with them and with others, recounting stories of jungle medicine, hope and sadness. Pervading the talk however was a sense of optimism and motivation. At the end, questions were asked and one person asked her where she finds the motivation to do all the things that she does and has done for many years. She replied that when we see suffering, it evokes compassion, and this compassion gives us the fire behind our motivation. I find this notion to be incredibly inspiring. Baroness Cox ended her talk with the following idea: "I cannot do everything, but I cannot do nothing."
Wise words, from a truly inspiring woman.

References:

HART's Website: here
Image of Baroness Cox at the top of this post is taken from here

Orthopaedic Surgery: My First Experience

When the work experience coordinator said that I would be "in theatres" at a number of points during my week's work experience at the R.N.O.H, I was very excited indeed, but also nervous, as I had never watched surgery take place before.

Theatre implies a show, and what a show there was. The first drama was the very sight of the patient. When I walked in, all scrubbed up, the patient was asleep with general anesthetic and covered up with sterile blue sheets. He was entirely covered from view except for his left leg, which was being coated in yellow plastic, (I later learned from a nurse that this was to minimise skin shedding of the patient, that may get into the wound). Then came the first incision. It felt like my legs had gone from underneath me. The sheer shock of a person being cut up in front of me, albeit anesthetised, is a momentous one. Furthermore, as you look at the patient, in this case a small boy, you can't help but plead in your head that they'll leave him intact.

However, after the initial shock of the mechanics of the procedure, I soon calmed down. Even now, my first observations seem incredibly naive, in hindsight that is, but I've included them here for perspective. I was comforted by the conversations I had with the lovely anesthetists during the rest of the surgery. Having someone there to explain what is happening is immensely reassuring, and takes the nightmarish qualities out of the experience.

Likewise, seeing the measured cooperation and calmness of the team around me filled me with an equivalent composure, and I began to appreciate the complex surgery that was being undertaken in front of my eyes. Indeed the rest of the week followed and I saw a dozen surgeries, I am hugely grateful for the experience and became so accustomed to the blood and gore of that week that I am slightly concerned for my mental wellbeing as I doubt it is normal for a human being to be unperturbed by an entirely open leg, arm or hip of their fellow man. 

Regardless, I enjoyed the fascinating experience, and my first exposure to surgery.

Image source: http://ossmig.orthop.washington.edu/Portals/1/OR1.jpg

Be a dentist.

In a break from ward rounds, a group of the SHOs, the other two students from my school and I found ourselves talking about dentistry, and how it compares to medicine. Out of the five SHOs in the room, when asked, only three would choose to do medicine if they had their life again. At first glance, this seems like good odds as it is the majority, but I find this a tad disconcerting. From my point of view, all of these individuals are, in essence, living the dream. They got into medical school and came out the other side, they're well adjusted to and seemingly happy with a job that I aspire to work my way towards, and yet only just over half would do it again? Should I be concerned about this fact?

When my friend asked whether he should do medicine or dentistry, the response of "do dentistry" overwhelmed that of medicine, with four of the SHOs discouraging him from their own profession! Of course, the scientific side of me is having a field day, as this is by no means a reliable study, simply a random sample of the professionals that were in the room at that time, and is by nobody's standards a conclusive survey. Nevertheless, the conversation was an interesting one.

Their reasons were as follows, and though the final verdict of "I would rather not have been a doctor" was not shared by all, everyone agreed on the reasons that the dispassionate (disillusioned?) two put forward. Firstly, that there was no such thing as a nine-to-five job in medicine; one was nearly always working.  In the first couple of years, you are a "dog's body" as one SHO put it.

Another disadvantage of being a doctor is you get moved around every four to six months, although refreshing, this can lead to leaving behind a whole set of friends and maybe even living spaces, if you're moving somewhere far away, a couple of times a year!

Now, of course, medicine is a vocation and I can definitely see that, but something else that came up in the open conversation in that relaxed afternoon in the office is the number of friends' gatherings, parties, weddings and even sleep that every SHO had missed out on. One, let's call her Lucy, couldn't even confirm whether or not she could go to her best friend's wedding, as she had not been told whether she was "on-call" that evening. They stressed that although it isn't often required per se, you have to stay on some evenings simply because any doctor worth their salt can't just leave one of their patients when they are needed, for whatever reason. From my own limited experience, I can completely understand this, each day of work experience at the Marsden was scheduled for us to leave at five, but every evening we stayed on for a couple of hours longer - and we didn't have any responsibility for the patients, let alone any skills that we could utilise, we stayed only out of sheer interest in their well being.

They SHOs all agreed, however, that under no circumstances would you be bored at work as a doctor. On a fundamental level, you are using your skills and dedication in a team of people that are striving to improve as many lives as possible, and relieve human suffering, and I don't think you can ever escape that intrinsically admirable fact, and it is definitely one of the most compelling reasons I have for wanting to be a doctor.

So where to go from here? I would like to talk to some more doctors about how they find the balance in their job, and learn more so that I can evaluate whether this profession is right for me.

Personally I am not interested in dentistry, and I mean no disrespect to dentists when I relay this to you. But the response that they gave my friend who is considering it was summarised in the following choice phrase "if you want to be bored and rich, be a dentist." Make of that what you will...

Finally, I am very grateful to the honesty of those lovely SHOs if they're reading, it's not easy to admit if you regret something, but I am incredibly thankful that they were so blunt about what they really thought about being doctors. This way, if I do decide to enter into this "fresh hell", I can at least go in ready, with my eyes wide open.

Dear Reader

Very happy to be starting this little blog, and hope to keep readers updated with my progress as a potential Medical applicant. I will be writing opinion pieces, referencing medical journals, recounting my experiences and posting items of general interest, and I promise I'll try my best to keep my posts succinct, regular and maybe even interesting! If you have any questions about anything I write, just comment and I'll get back to you as fast as possible!

Thank you so much for stopping by, 

Best wishes, Annabel B.