Tales: part 1 of 3

I wish I had more time to write on here.

I wish I would make more time for myself to write on here. I know. I need to be more regular in updating you with what's going on. I'm going to make it up to you with the next few series of posts though... three tales. (Isn't that exciting?!) But first I want to ramble a bit.

We got our Semester 3 exam results yesterday...and I passed! After sitting these exams in February, I was absolutely positive that I was going to fail. I just felt it as I walked out of the hall (for the written), as I ran out of the cubicles (for the clinical skills) and as I crawled out of the dissection room (for the anatomy). It's not that I hadn't revised. I mean, of course I had (I wouldn't take that risk!). Just, not sufficiently for the things that came up. The worse thing was when the questions kept playing over and over in my head, how I had answered them... and then all I could think about were the stupid mistakes I had made with the easy questions/stations.

That all disappeared though, when my plane took off for Spain. My sweety-pie Mum booked me tickets to fly to Madrid for the four days that I had off after exams. Sunny? Oh yes!

We're learning about the male and female reproductive systems to start off this semester. It's not too bad actually and a lot easier to digest than the neurology we got constipated with. Don't take me wrong, I love neuroanatomy and neuroscience - it's one of the many topics that intrigues me the most - there's just so much and they're mostly how we think it all works. We'll then swiftly move onto immunology (my worsed nightmare) and ageing... fun!

Oh, look what I found on Google Images (click to enlarge):

Isn't it cool?

I just noticed that the different systems are colour coded! Why couldn't learning anatomy be this fun?













Okie dokes! I think you've had enough of my verbal diarrhea. Shall we begin...?


Tale 1)

This incident happened last summer... I was on a couch returning to London from a friend's wedding. It was a hot evening and the journey wasn't completely pleasant as the couch's air-con' wasn't working. After about half an hour into the journey, whilst we were on the motorway, there was an uproar towards the front of the couch (I was sitting towards the back). I then heard a lady cry out. As I stood up I saw this distressed lady with a group of people trying to comfort her. Some others were all squeezed together in the aisle looking down at something. Oh no, has something happened to her baby... has it died? Were the first things that came on my mind.

I asked an aunty about what was happening. The next thing I know she and another lady were telling the people at the front to let me through as I was a Medical student. What?! What could I possibly do? I was only a first year at the time and I didn't know anything - and still don't by the way.

So, little me shoves her way through to the front to where all the commotion was. There I see a baby in his father's arms. His eyes were rolled back and saliva bubbling out of his mouth. He was having a fit. Of course this was a very frightening experience for me; I had never seen anything like it. His father was just watching him helplessly while his mother was wailing on the other side.

The driver stopped the coach on the hard shoulder of the motorway (I think we were near Oxford) and opened the doors. "Bring the baby outside, he needs fresh air!" someone cried. That was a good decision, as I learnt later. Half the couch came out with the baby and his father.

It was very windy outside, with cars whizzing passed at over 100mph. To add to that, we where on the edge of a hill (it's steepness was hidden by the overgrowth of vegetation). The father climbed over the small bar and sat on the edge with his legs dangling in a rocky trench-like depression. Others stayed on the otherside and watched with wary eyes and chattering teeth. I, on the other hand, wasn't going to stand and watch. I know I would have done something even if I wasn't a medical student.

I leaped over the horizontal bar and trudged over to the father and child. I had to be very careful not to trip in my heels and long party dress, as that would mean potentially rolling down the hill to God knows where. Another guy took the baby off the father and now sat in his place. I think he must have gone to comfort his wife. I knelt next to the child who, had by this time finished having his fits. He lay there limp, eyes open wide and unresponsive to what was going on around him. I clumsily took his brachial pulse (I vaguely remembered reading that this was where you felt the pulse in babies) and watched his face. His eyes were teared and glazed. He wasn't crying. Wait... He wasn't crying... shouldn't this baby be crying? I stood up and yelled, "Someone call 999, call the ambulance quick!" The guy who held the baby said "I've got experience in Medicine, the child is fine. Look he's not crying. He'll be fine; no need to call an ambulance." He stroked the child's hair. What? I was outraged. Moments later the baby tried to cry, I say this because he opened his mouth in distress but hardly any sound came out. It was then that I noticed that the back of his throat was inflammed. It looked outragedly red and sore.

An uncle had heard my plea and called 999. The doctor came in a matter of seconds and the paramedics arrived a few minutes later. I introduced myself to the doc and described what I had seen. I also remembered to mention his throat infection. He told me that the baby had an episode Febrile convulsion due to a fever he may have had from the infection and the hot temperature inside the coach. He explained that it was relatively common in babies his age and doesn't lead to brain damage. After speaking to the parents, it was decided to take the baby to the nearest hospital for a full checkup and antibiotics. Then they went off in the ambulance. I asked around about the baby a day later and was happy to hear that he was fine.

I know I didn't really do anything for the child, but am glad I was able to help even a little. I definitely learnt a lot from this experience.

I'll have to leave you here I'm afraid, but will be back soon for the next story I have to tell...