Shruti Chawla, Fifth Year Medicine
The Worsley Times has weaved in and out of my time at Medical School and has provided a platform for creative release, based on either current life events or things that I’ve found myself drawn to during lectures in medicine and my intercalation.
It seems proper to attempt a final publication with some reflections through my time at Leeds (this is if I pass the MLA).
If there’s one thing Leeds has certainly provided, it’s variety. From Introduction to Medical Sciences (IMS) in Year 1, to Intermediate Life Support in Year 5, the random one-morning-a-week placement, on bus filled with laughter, to the 6am wakeups just to de-ice the car before General Surgery in Calderdale, it’s been quite the ride.
I remember that first day in first year, milling around the APL just prior to the “Welcome to Leeds” lecture, with hope and fear in my eyes (a mixture I’m still familiar with). I felt like I’d finally made it. Having smashed my A-levels as the ‘big fish in the little pond’, I was suddenly surrounded by peers who were county level hockey players, did their work experience in Mexico or had already started pre-reading and creating Anki decks. Although I must say I grew to love most people in the cohort, so don’t take this personally!
Those IMS lectures felt like a rush. Whilst all my non-medic pals were out on a Tuesday, I knew I had a 9am and exams (IMS tests) already, which perhaps I took too seriously.
Medic Freshers and MUMS was the perfect initiation into what “work hard, play hard” meant at medical school. When my Medic Dad had to hand me over black-out to my actual father, I knew I had done it all correctly. Bobby’s on Mondays and Mischief on Wednesdays carried us through that first year and when we had the MedSoc Ball, none of us knew that it would potentially be the final day of freedom before lockdown, although we may have had a slight inkling, there are photos of me in a ball dress at Wetherspoons.
I think I spent the summer quizzing three nights a week over zoom and running for the mere hour allocated per day.
Second year in my ‘big girl house’ with my lovely housemates was clouded by relentless online lectures, those odd Essential Medical Sciences crosswords and social distancing. The phrase ‘household bubble’ sent shivers rippling through Hyde Park and we would eagerly await the gossip on which house had a disciplinary from the Medical School for throwing that weekend’s house party. I think the dorsal column made me cry at least six times and I had to stifle those tears in case the proctoring software reported me for collusion during our finals for the year.
When things opened up again – coinciding with third year, it felt almost metaphorical. Third year represented a slight shift in the pecking order. I now went to placement almost ‘full time’. Non medic peers suddenly had even fewer contact hours and the burden of the dissertation (my time would come the following year) but we were responsible young student doctors, ready to take the world by storm through intricately structured histories (don’t forget allergies) and the most empathetic ‘ICE’ that would bring an OSCE examiner to tears.
The house scrub wash was the most important time of the evening, and we would each bring our stories of placement to discuss over dinner. This is what we had all been looking forward to, this was medicine.
This was medicine. Except for the fact that I missed 65% of the bloods I took, once forgot to twist my stethoscope ‘on’ so I panicked about no air entry and used so much hand sanitiser in my OSCE that my hands have never been the same since.
Halfway graduation gave us the opportunity to celebrate, and it was a chance to have a big pre-intercalation hurrah before we all went our separate ways. I distinctly remember being told one of my best friend’s was in tears because she’d miss me, and I was leaving her. I kindly reminded her that FaceTime existed, and she could visit. But perhaps that’s the definition of “true love” I needed to learn!
Intercalation was a seismic shift. The reduction in contact hours meant that there was a lot of self-motivation needed to work through endless essays, although my Pret subscription really did the heavy lifting here. Eleven months in the capital was a chance for a personal rebrand which led to daily dilemmas on a return to medical school. Intercalation, whilst not currently counting for much training wise, is a chance to be yourself for a while, without the ‘student doctor’ label hanging over your head. It was a chance to participate in some new extra-curriculars, meet new people and give me a bit more clarity over what I may want working life to look like. Refer to a previous article written a couple of years ago for the details.
Personally, fourth year represented the biggest balancing act of medical school so far and should be awarded the prize of being the most influential year.
Physically, I was rejuvenated, having slept for 8 hours a night for a lot of my intercalated degree. Yet emotionally, I wasn’t sure I was built to be back on placement, which was stricter and now included back-to-back Paediatrics and Gynae/Obstetric hell. The content was detailed (but interesting) and brand new for the most part and I spun the plates of intense part-time employment, maintaining a social life and personal relationships whilst also making it to Trib3 three times a week. However, it was completely possible and made me realise that maybe, just maybe, I could do this medic thing.
After the horror of fourth year exams, a reward was most certainly due, which for many comes in the form of the elective. Mine, disappointedly didn’t involve twirling on a beachside in the Philippines, but instead was at a government hospital in Mumbai where I worked with cancer patients and genetic counsellors. Harrowing to say the least, but an incredible opportunity with the peace of running back to a lovely hotel room and get that bit of relaxation in. However, tactically, once back in the UK, I interspersed my primary care elective with weekend trips over Europe, drinking every fine variety of wine I could find.
So, this brings me to now, a mere couple of weeks before finals, I’m (pretty) ready for the job. Granted none of us know where we’re going and what we’re doing but I think I can speak for most of my cohort when I say there is growing excitement for the next chapter that looms.
Medical school is more than just a university course, which is quite the cliche, I’m aware.
However, no one can deny you are constantly juggling professional responsibility (unpaid), trying to get paid with various side jobs, maintaining a social life and inevitably going through some personal upheaval at various points.
The one thing I stand by, is that the people that I have been surrounded with, have been incredible and these years have left us with a little tie that I shall always look back on with fondness.
That is the end of my half thoughtful, extremely cliched but very honest account of my time at Leeds.
THE WORSLEY TIMES 
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