Diary of a Work Experience Student

Zak Muggleton-Gellas, Year 2

TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS AHEAD

Following my obs and gynae diary from earlier this year, I thought I would include a diary of my Year 10 work experience that I wrote in the same style. Sometimes I look back and cringe at some of the things I wrote, but it is definitely (most probably) charming in its naivety. 

Wednesday 10/07/19 General Surgery Work Experience Diary: 

My naïve, optimistic mindset wondered into the hospital at 9am, unaware of the day filled with bodily fluids, organ screening and tool handling ahead. Considering I wasn’t entirely clear on what urology consisted of at the start of the day, walking into a theatre with a man  on the table (with a clear absence of clothing beneath the waist) with his legs at his sides and a tube stuck up a hole, you can say I was pretty stunned. If you’re thinking of that hole, that would be wrong. It is a smaller one, connected to the bladder. Ouch. 

My morning was filled with fluids, both red and clear, flowing into plastic containers on the floor whilst watching a screen with a HD video showing the inside of the man’s bladder. On the first one, tubes were inserted into the kidneys (through holes in the bladder) to take samples, whilst x-ray shots were being taken. This should have been my primary concern, but it was rather the lead-filled body cover that was weighing me down like a paperweight. Don’t come at me, it was heavy…. I promise. 

The student surgeon did ask me questions, but my common response was ‘errrrrr’ before she explained it to me, especially when it was anything to do with physics. Specifically with the dipolar and monopolar circuits and energies whist she burnt away at a man’s prostate with a tiny crescent-shaped loop. But physics aside, I could explain that the smell of burning flesh is a specific one. A bit like marmite. Except marmite is bearable and doesn’t make you want to gag. 

The most traumatising experience was watching a patient gag as his anaesthetic wore off and the tube was being extracted from his throat. The catching of eye contact is really not advised; he looked like a new-born that could only see blurry shapes and images. 

The afternoon was different: there were less fluids but my squeamishness was definitely still being tested. Fortunately, I am apparently not as bad as I thought, as it is common to have fainted, but I was still anxious to see what could test me. Throughout the day a consistent stream of doctors told me not to go into medicine (“you pay to do the job… it’s less than minimum wage”) which was thrilling when I had already made my decision at sixteen. Regardless, a lovely surgeon told me that she is fulfilled and happy what she does, and that compared to her non-medic friends, she feels like she is the most confident in her pathway of life. How reassuring. 

In the afternoon I saw a hernia removal, (not keyhole but burning to create an opening in the stomach), gall bladder removal (keyhole where they jabbed in ‘high tech litter pickers’) and a right temporal artery biopsy. The biopsy was the most intense because I stood next to him and held the clamps whilst the patients face was literally open, and they were still conscious. More of a doctor asking me questions and the responses being ‘errrr’ and ‘ahhhh, wow.’

I learnt about which stitches dissolve in what environments and how to sew the stitching. I think we can all agree to be grateful I didn’t give it a go.