Life of a medical student

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Life of a medical student Part 11: December 2019

Current activity: Sitting outside on my new lovely patio. I have recently relocated for work (Oh my gosh it sounds so weird to say that – all professional and stuff).

Pro: I think I got lucky...or even blessed...I think costal life suits me.

Con: I am nervous. Like seriously nervous to start work the first of January. I will be fine. I should be fine – right?

Music track: Marabout by Noze

Okay so BIG NEWS! I have finally completed my degree! What the fuuuuck. It feels so wild. Don't think it has fully hit me yet and I wrote my final exam three weeks ago. Even this morning someone was explaining a medical topic to me and I stopped him saying "I understand, I am a medical student" and my mom hit me on the arm scolding me "No, you are a doctor now." Like I said: I don't think it has fully sunk in yet.

My final rotation was paediatrics. To be honest the last six months of my degree were not my favourite. I ended with rotations in gynaecology, obstetrics and paediatrics – basically six months of endless screaming. Women screaming in labour, screaming women giving birth to screaming babies and paediatric wards in which one child starts crying and then the entire ward is in hysterics. My ears still hurt. Working with children is an interesting experience and although I do not see myself specialising in paediatrics I can appreciate the beauty of it. I was also privileged to work with passionate doctors which made it all the more eye opening. One of my registrars compared internal medicine to paediatrics and said that paediatrics is so much better and satisfying as it is never the child's fault. I found that to be so true.

For me working with children was a rollercoaster of emotions and experiences. I started off with being a bit awkward and unsure of myself – especially when handling neonates and preterm babies. My collegues (who are also mother's themselves) enjoyed laughing at how uncomfortable I was initially. I eventually got to the point where I was at ease with children but my heart hurt every time we had to perform a procedure on them: blood tests, suprapubic catheters, lumbar punctures, etc. Without sedation (this is where my heart really can't take it).

Of course I still have a couple of random stories up my sleeve. While rotating in one of our tertiary university associated hospitals; the final year medical students were allocated around three to four patients of which we were entirely responsible for. One of my patients was a one year and five month old male with SAM (severe acute malnutrition). Unfortunately, SAM is quite common in South Africa. Now sick children are often very irritable which is understandable – they are unwell physically and now moved into a foreign environment (the hospital) with strangers and odd noises (big scary doctors). From the first time my patient saw me he did not like me. I swear every time he saw me he started SCREAMING, crying big fat tears and calling out for his mother. And as I have emphasised above – I do not do well with screaming. I had to see him over the course of a week to ensure he was gaining weight and responding to treatment: there is a ten step guide to treating SAM children. I barely touched the child and he screamed each time I even made eye contact. Now come day five of that week and my registrar informed me that we needed to do blood tests on my patient. He was my patient and thus all ward work for him was my responsibility. I went to collect him from his bed and explained to the mother what I would be doing and the reasons for the required tests. Picking him up (kicking and screaming) I carried him over to the side room for privacy with my equipment prepared and a colleague of mine waiting to help hold my patient's arm steady (basically a friend to help hold him down – as bad as that sounds). When I laid him down and pricked him to draw blood I swear his screaming hit a new pitch of loud and I had to tell my heart to stop aching and just focus. What broke me more so was that when I completed the task and picked him into my arms again; he was consoled by me. I wanted to cry, thinking that "you are crying because I hurt you and now here you are taking comfort from me, the one who hurt you in the first place." Point is that I got the job done. Didn't like it but that's work for you.

The neonatology ward is worse as it is full of preterm babies that you need to draw blood arterially. Every time I pricked a neonate and he started crying I was thinking "you're crying? I want to cry!!" I hate the crying but when a child stops crying I get a mini panic attack – wait? Is it dead? In the end I just didn't know what to feel.

Some medical students love working with children. Don't get me wrong, I love children. But sick children is a whole different ballgame. It comes with worrying and emotions and moral dilemmas. Yeah I'll pass. Though one thing I am absolutely sure of is that Down Syndrome babies are the cutest things ever! Like ever ever! With their protruding little tongues, low set ears and never-ending love and affection. Oh my goodness I could take one home with me. Especially when you see one coming from a loving family and developmental milestones up-to-date.

I guess I can't refer to myself as a student anymore. I completed my degree and have been placed in a secondary hospital in Kwazulu-Natal. It was not any of my choices as I was one of the few unlucky ones to be placed randomly (believe me I had my proper mental breakdown already – cried myself out as I thought I was placed somewhere super rural. Now I am more optimistic about it. Am looking at all the positives that come with it). I got placed, finished my final exams and had two weeks to relocate to a new province and city. Weirdest thing was packing my whole life away into black dustbin bags; poetic even (it is easier to stuff in the car and drive down). Just think about it – I have had a hectic year of studies and work (fucking intense with no social life), finished my degree, said goodbye to everyone and had two weeks to find decent-ish accommodation to live in for the next two years. I don't think I have had time to process anything. To make matters more intense – I start my new job as a "Public service intern" the first of January. That is...five days away. FIVE DAYS. I am going tomorrow to see the hospital for the first time. I honestly cannot believe I have gotten this far. I am a doctor now. Wow. It still sounds weird. Ha! Think about what a game changer this will be when introducing myself to men at a bar or something. That will be hilarious.

So this is the final chapter of Life as a medical student. I am thinking about writing a sequel with my experiences as an intern over the next two years. Will keep you updated!

To all my fellow medical students – hang in there! You got this and believe me the years go by fast.

xxx