Bonjour mon petit dejourner, as always it's been a while. This stems from the fact that I'm a super busy and important person and not that I'm too lazy to pick up my laptop and write on this blog ever. Oh no no no.
The rest of my specials attachment was pretty unexciting, really, with the only highlight being that I got bought chocolate by the Registrar looking after us for doing a kick ass presentation. When I say kick ass what I mean is that everyone had to vote for the best presentation but forgot so the only person left in the room was me and, well, I like chocolate. The only lowlight, conversely, was being kicked the hell out of theatre by Mr Sama, Bin Ladans non-irish cousin.
The background goes as follows, theatre is pretty frikking boring, now some people when they go into theatre have an awesome surgeon who fetches them from the usual med student location of cowering in the corner with fear, drags them up to the operating table and makes them do cool stuff like slice out the guys pancreas or whatever. In some cases these people even get paid £200 because they assisted on a private list. However, nothing exciting has ever happened to ME in theatre and I usually stand around in silence on my own being totally ignored by the surgeon who is surrounded by so many underling staff that it is impossible to see what the hell is going on. Fortuitously (or so I thought at first), there was a fellow medical student with me when I went into my last ENT theatre list, so I thought that for once I wouldn't be sitting around with noone to talk to feeling like a douche. As the first operation was a tonstillectomy there was very little we could see, the surgeon was hunched over the patient and furthermore, we weren't scrubbed in so out mere presence within 2 feet of the patient would mean their imminent infection with MRSA and subsequent death. So, as two humans do when they are in the company of one another, with very little to do, we had rampant sex. And by rampant sex I mean we chatted about what SSM we are going to do next and about electives etc. After the operation, the surgeon wheeled around on us.
Things in brackets are underlying thoughts.
Surgeon: Can I see you two outside, please?
Us: Sure thing (Maybe he's going to get us to scrub in or do some teaching that the hospital gets paid £1,200 per student per week to do)
Surgeon: Why did you come to my theatre today?
Us: To see you do some surgery (To get our books signed off)
Surgeon: Well, you didn't bother to introduce yourselves (Yes we did, I waved and said hello to you when you came in and you've met me THREE TIMES ALREADY so I thought telling you my name again would make it seem as though I thought you were a COMPLETE MORON), You didn't bother to find out about the patient (They were having a tonsillectomy sooo we guessed some kind of tonsil problem, furthermore surgeons often come up to us and tell us about the patient rather than ignoring us), and you just spent the whole time chatting (Well, fair enough maybe we shouldn't have been chatting but we weren't disturbing anyone and we had F*CK ALL ELSE TO DO!)
Us: Oh I'm sorry
Surgeon: So you can get out of my theatre, and I don't want you to ever come to my theatre again.
Surely a bit rash, it's not like we got his daughter pregnant or anything. Jeez.
So that was unpleasant.
Talking of electives, I've actually got mine sorted! Medical elective is where medical students bugger off out of the country for 6 weeks to learn about how medicine works in other countries, or some shit. Undergraduates, being massive goodie two shoes, who in a Disney cartoon-esque way have a deep seated goal to do good in the world and to help poor starving third world urchins achieve degrees and social prosperity, invariable head off to africa so that they can feel important and helpful. Postgraduates, on the other hand, are bitter and resent the world for all the horrible things it has done to them, and as a result like to either stay at home and dwell on their misery or else bugger off somewhere, pretending that they care about third world hunger but really they just want to go on a jolly.
So we're doing the latter. In zanzibar. And no, I can't afford it and yes, I'm going to get the AIDS and melanoma but it's fine because apparently Zanzibar is the most beautiful place in the whole world and it only rains one month in a year. And that month is Novemeber. So wooooo...
[1 month break later]
After the last paragraph, Dave walked in needing attention, so I was forced to wait until several weeks later before I had free time to write anything else.
Since then!
Hywel's Wedding:
This was good stuff, despite having contracted THE DIABETES on his Coke & Haribo fuelled stag-do (featuring such excitement as the Triad Leader Chinese Restaurant Owner who served only what HE WANTED US to have ordered and refused to allow us to have free tap water even though it illegal for him to do so, and Charles preaching the virtues of Windows over Mac OS before spending a good 30 minutes trying to get the god forsaken operating system to output to his projector) I was raring to go for the actual wedding and Hywel had kindly put me up in one of the Hyper-expensive cottages they had organised in PARADISE on the Friday night so I was well rested (ish). First of all Megan, Hywel's Renault inspired fiancee, looked absolutely gorgeous and second of all any time spent around Hywel is liable to be extremely good.
Yes there were downsides, like the fact I had no official title and spent alot of time feeling unloved and freezing cold in the church, and the fact that part of the wedding actually OCCURED in a church despite everyone Hywel knows being an athiest, but aside from those mere foibles the rest was great fun. The Best Man, Tom Dvorak, had orchestrated some beautiful arrangements of Journey and Queen for the string orchestra to play and the location in Paradise Castle was as picturesque as you can ask for. Following the service, Tom Wolverine and I took on the difficult task of getting TOTALLY OFF OUR FACES drunk which we succeeded in easily with the help of Dvorak's girlfriend and Hywel's brother Tom. We had some amazing food, I gave an amazingly poor speech and then sang amazingly loudly and out of tune to the band (that Hywel normally gigs with). My usual sense of inferiority was somewhat increased at the point that Hywel started playing RIDICULOUS SHREDDING GUITAR at HIS OWN WEDDING causing him to LOOK LIKE A GOD but he deserved all the subsequent praise he achieved.
After 4 hours sleep interrupted by Tom Wolverine's STUPIDLY LOUD snoring and Megan's cough, at least I hope it was a cough because anyone who makes sex noises like that needs to see a Doctor something awful, I had to set off to start band call for Carlton Operatic's Wizard of Oz. Unfortunately due to my hungover state and the fact I was half asleep I managed to take the wrong motorway and almost ended up in London, but I did manage to make it to rehearsal on time, even if I was a little flustered. The Wizard Of Oz band turned out to be great, combining the talent of Nottingham Operatics band with the ability to have a bit of a laugh (presumably due to a lack of the Iron Fist of the talented but stern Steve Williams) and the conductor, Chris Rees, had an easy to follow and familiar conducting style. I later learned this could well stem from the fact he used to conduct at Warwick, just like me, and the conducting style has obviously been passed down over the generations. I say generations, he's like 5 years older than me.
Unfortunately, although the show was excellently performed it is INSANELY LONG! Longer than the SUN. (that's the right analogy, i'm sure) and I was thoroughly pleased when it was over (especially as I was massively hung over from Kat Woodwards birthday bash, where I got kissed by A RANDOM BLOKE IN THE QUEUE, and nearly lost my glasses several times, though at least it wasn't my anal virginity)
Since then I've had a cold, and that's about it.
Oh and Psychiatry is a load of terrible. Being in the hospital feels like you're in one of those dreams where nothing quite happens like you expect it to; when someone opens up their breifcase, a rabbit might leap out, for example. Every conversation is packed full of long and uncomfortable pauses and you start to get the feeling that the doctors are simply mental patients who are pretending to be qualified. An example:
Doctor: I think we want to put her on an antidepressant...
*long pause*
... but a good one.
Pharmacist, with a sense of sarcasm: Well they're all equally efficatious
*long pause*
Doctor: But are they?
*long pause*
Pharmacist: I, well, I
*long pause*
Pharmacist: So maybe paracetamoxyfrusabendroneomycin?
*long pause*
Doctor: Perhaps....
*long pause*
Doctor: I think we want to put her on an antidepressnat...
At one point during this conversation, the sane SHO (who clearly hadn't been there long enough for the bonkers-ness to take effect) actually interrupted with "soooooo..." because there had been random silence for around 5 minutes and everyone looked at her astonished as if she'd just interrupted a very important conversation. One wonders what would happen if these doctors worked in A&E
Nurse: Doctor, doctor, I feel like i'm a pair of curtains
Doctor: Well pull yourself together, woman.
*cough*
Nurse: Doctor, this man was involved in some horrendous traffic accident and has lost all his limbs and 95% of his circulating blood volume
*long pause*
Doctor: and how does that make him feel?
Nurse: What are you talking about, he's barely got a pulse, he's peri-arrest for god's sake
*long pause*
Doctor: I feel we need to give him some kind of
*long pause*
... fluids.
Nurse: OK What kind?
*long pause*
Doctor: Some fluids that are good
Nurse: OK well screw you i'm just going to give him saline before he dies
*he dies*
Doctor: So... can anyone think of a reason why the clouds are so pretty on a spring afternoon...
AGHHH
Still, I've not been raped or stabbed (yet) so it hasn't gone as badly as possible.
[1 month break later]
After the last paragraph, Dave walked in needing attention, so I was forced to wait until several weeks later before I had free time to write anything else.
Since then!
Hywel's Wedding:
This was good stuff, despite having contracted THE DIABETES on his Coke & Haribo fuelled stag-do (featuring such excitement as the Triad Leader Chinese Restaurant Owner who served only what HE WANTED US to have ordered and refused to allow us to have free tap water even though it illegal for him to do so, and Charles preaching the virtues of Windows over Mac OS before spending a good 30 minutes trying to get the god forsaken operating system to output to his projector) I was raring to go for the actual wedding and Hywel had kindly put me up in one of the Hyper-expensive cottages they had organised in PARADISE on the Friday night so I was well rested (ish). First of all Megan, Hywel's Renault inspired fiancee, looked absolutely gorgeous and second of all any time spent around Hywel is liable to be extremely good.
Yes there were downsides, like the fact I had no official title and spent alot of time feeling unloved and freezing cold in the church, and the fact that part of the wedding actually OCCURED in a church despite everyone Hywel knows being an athiest, but aside from those mere foibles the rest was great fun. The Best Man, Tom Dvorak, had orchestrated some beautiful arrangements of Journey and Queen for the string orchestra to play and the location in Paradise Castle was as picturesque as you can ask for. Following the service, Tom Wolverine and I took on the difficult task of getting TOTALLY OFF OUR FACES drunk which we succeeded in easily with the help of Dvorak's girlfriend and Hywel's brother Tom. We had some amazing food, I gave an amazingly poor speech and then sang amazingly loudly and out of tune to the band (that Hywel normally gigs with). My usual sense of inferiority was somewhat increased at the point that Hywel started playing RIDICULOUS SHREDDING GUITAR at HIS OWN WEDDING causing him to LOOK LIKE A GOD but he deserved all the subsequent praise he achieved.
After 4 hours sleep interrupted by Tom Wolverine's STUPIDLY LOUD snoring and Megan's cough, at least I hope it was a cough because anyone who makes sex noises like that needs to see a Doctor something awful, I had to set off to start band call for Carlton Operatic's Wizard of Oz. Unfortunately due to my hungover state and the fact I was half asleep I managed to take the wrong motorway and almost ended up in London, but I did manage to make it to rehearsal on time, even if I was a little flustered. The Wizard Of Oz band turned out to be great, combining the talent of Nottingham Operatics band with the ability to have a bit of a laugh (presumably due to a lack of the Iron Fist of the talented but stern Steve Williams) and the conductor, Chris Rees, had an easy to follow and familiar conducting style. I later learned this could well stem from the fact he used to conduct at Warwick, just like me, and the conducting style has obviously been passed down over the generations. I say generations, he's like 5 years older than me.
Unfortunately, although the show was excellently performed it is INSANELY LONG! Longer than the SUN. (that's the right analogy, i'm sure) and I was thoroughly pleased when it was over (especially as I was massively hung over from Kat Woodwards birthday bash, where I got kissed by A RANDOM BLOKE IN THE QUEUE, and nearly lost my glasses several times, though at least it wasn't my anal virginity)
Since then I've had a cold, and that's about it.
Oh and Psychiatry is a load of terrible. Being in the hospital feels like you're in one of those dreams where nothing quite happens like you expect it to; when someone opens up their breifcase, a rabbit might leap out, for example. Every conversation is packed full of long and uncomfortable pauses and you start to get the feeling that the doctors are simply mental patients who are pretending to be qualified. An example:
Doctor: I think we want to put her on an antidepressant...
*long pause*
... but a good one.
Pharmacist, with a sense of sarcasm: Well they're all equally efficatious
*long pause*
Doctor: But are they?
*long pause*
Pharmacist: I, well, I
*long pause*
Pharmacist: So maybe paracetamoxyfrusabendroneomycin?
*long pause*
Doctor: Perhaps....
*long pause*
Doctor: I think we want to put her on an antidepressnat...
At one point during this conversation, the sane SHO (who clearly hadn't been there long enough for the bonkers-ness to take effect) actually interrupted with "soooooo..." because there had been random silence for around 5 minutes and everyone looked at her astonished as if she'd just interrupted a very important conversation. One wonders what would happen if these doctors worked in A&E
Nurse: Doctor, doctor, I feel like i'm a pair of curtains
Doctor: Well pull yourself together, woman.
*cough*
Nurse: Doctor, this man was involved in some horrendous traffic accident and has lost all his limbs and 95% of his circulating blood volume
*long pause*
Doctor: and how does that make him feel?
Nurse: What are you talking about, he's barely got a pulse, he's peri-arrest for god's sake
*long pause*
Doctor: I feel we need to give him some kind of
*long pause*
... fluids.
Nurse: OK What kind?
*long pause*
Doctor: Some fluids that are good
Nurse: OK well screw you i'm just going to give him saline before he dies
*he dies*
Doctor: So... can anyone think of a reason why the clouds are so pretty on a spring afternoon...
AGHHH
Still, I've not been raped or stabbed (yet) so it hasn't gone as badly as possible.
Exciting events coming up include:
First Sing through of the Last 5 Years this weekend: Should be good fun although I need to make Ollie Metcalfe sing less like a girl, finish the ends of words and man up a bit. Also I fear the worst when the Arts Theatre suggest that something might make a profit. Have they budgeted for a piano, probably not, have they budgeted for the music or the rights, who knows?
Visiting of Iain & Hywel (Including Nick Sutcliffe & Tom Wolverine) next weekend and into the easter holidays: Should involve alot of fizzy cola bottles so I'm quite excited.
My birthday: Is a celebration of how massively old I have become, which is bad, but will feature many excellent people, which is good, however there is nowhere to actually have the party, which is bad, but it will be followed by a trip to Hodgson Manor, which is good, the manor is laced with potassium benzoate.
That's bad.
*Ramblins End Here*
First Sing through of the Last 5 Years this weekend: Should be good fun although I need to make Ollie Metcalfe sing less like a girl, finish the ends of words and man up a bit. Also I fear the worst when the Arts Theatre suggest that something might make a profit. Have they budgeted for a piano, probably not, have they budgeted for the music or the rights, who knows?
Visiting of Iain & Hywel (Including Nick Sutcliffe & Tom Wolverine) next weekend and into the easter holidays: Should involve alot of fizzy cola bottles so I'm quite excited.
My birthday: Is a celebration of how massively old I have become, which is bad, but will feature many excellent people, which is good, however there is nowhere to actually have the party, which is bad, but it will be followed by a trip to Hodgson Manor, which is good, the manor is laced with potassium benzoate.
That's bad.
*Ramblins End Here*
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