THE WORSLEY TIMES

Category: Life at Leeds

  • Mastering the Duke Elder Undergraduate Examination: A Practical Guide

    Mastering the Duke Elder Undergraduate Examination: A Practical Guide

    Dr. Ronan Aziz, FY2 Doctor

    Ophthalmology combines the best of medicine and surgery, offering great work-life balance and interesting pathology. It’s no wonder the specialty is incredibly competitive, with ratios of applicants to places often exceeding 10:1. As someone who’s been through the process, I want to share my insights about the Duke Elder Undergraduate Examination. Despite recent scoring changes, it still offers 0.5-1 points for your application, points that could make all the difference.

    The Examination at a Glance

    The Duke Elder is your opportunity to demonstrate ophthalmology knowledge while still in medical school. It’s run by the Royal College of Ophthalmologists and is a 2-hour online examination featuring 90 MCQs. 

    Key Information:

    – Annual examination in September

    – Open to medical students worldwide

    – £50 fee (waivers available for widening participation)

    – Apply through your medical school by May

    – Can be attempted multiple times during medical school

    – Coming within the top 60% get 0.5 points, top 20% gets you 1 point 

    Overview of Content

    The exam goes well beyond medical school ophthalmology requirements. People typically spend 2-3 months revising for the exam, although you could probably learn the content with 1 month of solid revision. 

    Here’s what you need to know:

    Basic Sciences (30-35%)

    The foundation of the exam covers ocular physiology, optics and refraction principles, and basic pharmacology. The visual pathway features heavily: know it well.

    Clinical Knowledge (35-40%)

    You’ll need to understand common eye conditions, ocular emergencies, and systemic diseases affecting the eye. Pediatric ophthalmology and retinal pathology are key areas. Image interpretation is essential.

    Anatomy and More (25-30%)

    Detailed ocular anatomy, neuroanatomy, and embryology make up this section. Public health aspects and basic genetics also appear regularly.

    What I used to Prepare for the Exam 

    Question Banks

    EyeDocs (£60/6 months)

    Think of this as the PassMedicine for ophthalmology. The questions closely match the exam style, and the image bank is excellent. Yes, it’s expensive and the interface looks dated, but it’s worth it for exam preparation for practice as challenging as the real exam. 

    PrepDukeElder (£60/year)

    A newer platform with more questions and better notes. The modern interface makes studying more pleasant, and it’s great for learning the content. Questions are more fact-based than in the real exam, but it’s excellent for building knowledge. 

    Courses

    Moorfields Annual Duke Elder Course

    This one-day Zoom course is taught by ophthalmologists who know the exam inside out. It’s perfect for MCQ technique and last-minute preparation, though less useful for learning basic concepts.

    Local ophthalmology society teaching sessions

    Tons of ophthalmology societies across the country every year run Duke Elder courses. Best way to keep an eye out for these is searching for the societies on Facebook and Instagram. 

    OpthNotes (£40 one-time fee)

    Created by successful ophthalmology trainees, this resource offers beautifully handwritten notes and video lectures. It’s particularly valuable if you’re planning to take the exam multiple times during medical school.

    Other Resources

    – YouTube videos for learning more visual concepts like squints

    – “180 MCQs in Duke Elder” for extra question practice

    – The Duke Elder Exam of Ophthalmology: A Comprehensive Guide for Success – has all the high yield notes you need for the exam and some sample exam questions but no images

    Conclusion

    Taking on the Duke Elder examination requires significant dedication; there’s no way around it. The depth and breadth of knowledge required goes well beyond your medical school curriculum, and you’ll need to invest substantial time and effort into preparation. 

    Beyond the valuable portfolio points, which are increasingly hard to come by, succeeding in the Duke Elder opens doors. It demonstrates serious commitment to ophthalmology, making it easier to secure electives and research opportunities in the field. .

    Dr. Rohan Aziz. FY2 Doctor, Ophthalmology. Calderdale Royal Infirmary. University of Leeds Medical School Graduate.

    Email : khawaja.aziz@cht.nhs.uk 

    Resources Link 

    Royal College of Ophthalmologists Duke Elder Examination

    https://www.rcophth.ac.uk/examinations/duke-elder-examination/

    ## Main Study Resources

    EyeDocs Question Bank

    https://www.eyedocs.co.uk

    PrepDukeElder Platform

    https://prepdukeeler.com

    OpthNotes Resources

    https://opthnotes.com

    Moorfields Eye Hospital Duke Elder Course

    https://checkout.moorfields.nhs.uk/product?catalog=Duke-Elder

  • Alternative To Intercalation

    Alternative To Intercalation

    William Hedley, Fourth Year Medicine

    Medicine has always been demanding, not only once qualified, and surveys of medical students’ mental health show that it’s not getting any easier. Barrages of emails often include the University’s attempts to support us with wellbeing newsletters, though the ultimate responsibility for our wellbeing is our own. Knowing this doesn’t reduce the pressure, the workload, or the burnout, nor will it give you a few more hours of sleep, or stop the commute to Halifax wrecking your weekday social life. Instead, these things end up feeling like intrinsic sacrifices, for an (at this point) unpaid job. Given just how tempting that all sounds, maybe it’s time to reconsider main-lining 5 straight years of it. 

    A Talibe runs through a Daara in Saint Louis, Senegal. I’d gone to volunteer with another organisation, but ended up doing some first aid, and lots of scabies treatment, with another.

    My proposed, prophylactic silver bullet is to simply leave medicine, temporarily. For some of you that might seem like a dream, right now; the other half of Worsley Times readers might completely disagree.  Either way, it’s less drastic than it might initially seem. Intercalation is an optional part of almost every Medicine course, giving the opportunity to study for another year, and improve experiences of research or other, specialist parts of medicine. Socially, it offers a slower pace for a more enjoyable university experience (read: the chance to make it to every Wednesday in Popworld), or even to live in another city. These advantages are undeniable, but so too are the extra student loans, extra year of NHS bursary instead of student finance, and the reality that the degree you obtain will now have no impact on your foundation role or location. 

    Children gather around a screen at a DVD rent-and-watch shop. The Betsileo people that historically predominate these highlands famously honour ‘Famadihana’, wherein relatives’ bodies are exhumed, redressed and celebrated every 5 or-so years. 
    (Ambolavao, Madagascar).

    So, the alternative: a sabbatical/temporary leave/gap yah. A year to do what you want to do, in the real world, beyond the security and/or confines of university. Having emailed my heads of year with a letter explaining why I wanted the time, a progress committee accepted,  and gave me that free year: no mandatory reflections, no assessors, and no presentation or justification of it all once I got back.  I met amazing people, learned languages, got Giardia, and looking back, had probably the best year of my life. Though not my focus, I did do some medical things in different places, and I could also make a good case for it being the year in which I developed most as a medical student, but this would undermine my point. At the risk of moralising, or simply sounding like a bit of a knob, life is not only about becoming the best doctor possible.

    Walking the runway at the University of Buenos Aires Fashion Students’ End of Year Show. 

    Also, money. That you should have, or save up, all the money to support yourself in a year away from uni, and facilitate whatever you want to do, is not an expectation of the university’s progress committee. Working to save the money that you’re then going to use to realise your plans is a completely valid way to spend time in that year. Similarly, volunteering and organisations like Workaway give you the chance to trade time and work to live for free, seeing what life’s really like in almost any given place. Finances will never be the same for everyone, but this year was objectively less expensive than a year in Leeds, making all a potential option even for those who are limited by money. Of course, for some people this might still not be a possibility, and going straight into 5th year will always be right and/or necessary for some people. 

    Learning to freedive after watching The Deepest Breath (Taganga,Colombia)

    Having come back and caught up with friends who had intercalated or gone straight through, at least initially it seems that everyone has had good years. The 5th years are itching to get it all over with, and the intercalators are proud of what they accomplished; maybe my year would’ve been better here? It’s said that all our choices are half chance, and taking a year away from it all isn’t a guarantee of anything, but it is an option. 

    On the road to Rio Carnival in Ubatuba, Brazil.
    The way down from sunrise at Pic St Louis (Fort Dauphin, Madagascar).
    After a morning of planting chillies and collecting mangoes, we headed into the village for the calm before the wedding-storm (Niaguis, Senegal).
    Friends on the border with Bolivia (Iruya, Argentina).

  • Reflections on Medical School: University of Leeds

    Reflections on Medical School: University of Leeds

    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.