My exams start tomorrow, and I reckon I know a smaller proportion of the stuff I need to for these exams than for any exams I’ve ever done before. There’s no way on earth that anyone can learn everything we’ve covered. But I only need to pass, and I did OK in the January exams and the assignments, so I don’t really need more than about 50%. Manageable, maybe, but I’m still not exactly confident.

Tomorrow is the DIPSE exam (the big, long A-Level Science style paper). How I do will largely depend on what they ask (well, duh).

Tuesday is my first ever Clinical exam (ie with patients). Having never done anything remotely like this before, I’m not sure how it’ll go. It’s a bit of a funny one in that you can get full marks, and still fail if you do something drastic (like start swearing or wearing inappropriate clothes).

Wednesday is the OSCE exams, which most people hate but I quite like. Bascially, it consists of lots of little papers which you have five minutes to complete. You do the paper, they blow a whistle and you move to the next desk and do the next paper. I like them because if you haven’t got a clue, you can just waffle for five minutes and write complete guesses, and you’re not sat there for a long time wondering about it. You just go with your gut feeling. This is also the exam with the anatomy in it, where you have thirty seconds to answer the question before you move on. This is particularly confusing because you have to remember which way to move round the room, as well as the few things you actually know. Everyone also knows the anatomy staff really well, so you just know they’ll be laughing at your answers if they’re totally useless. That bit, I don’t particularly like.

Then it’s Friday, which is the multiple choice paper, which includes multiple choice questions (surprisingly), some of which have up to 15 different options (though most have only four or five), and also true or false questions. These aren’t too bad, because you either know it or you guess, UNLESS they decide to set a negatively marked paper, in which case I’ll probably wet myself and cry (at the same time).

If I pass, then everything is rosy. If I fail, it’s a bit of a kick in the nuts because it means I have to come back in August and do everything again. But if I’m borderline, then I face the head-exploding concept of a viva, where a panel of three/four people fire questions about ANYTHING on the course at me, and expect me to sit there and answer. Worse still, I won’t find out if I’ve got a viva until about an hour before they start. Major eek. This also means I’ll be having nightmares from now until June 10th, the day of the vivas.

Luckily, though, shortly after June 10th I should (hopefully) be going away with some friends to the weekend. The destination is as yet to be confirmed, but Dublin looks likely. Which will be nice.

So that’s what this week will be like for me.

Originally posted on The LBSC

I’ve had my first exam. How exciting. It wasn’t that bad…though it was three hours long. I have a five hour one tomorrow (help).

A small building has appeared over Christmas, which is rather impressive – I didn’t think builders were capable of operating at that speed. It hasn’t finished being decorated yet, but according to my College newsletter it will be “a social space with TVs, PCs, newspapers, magazines, coffee and tea. So that’s nice. But then, that’s what I thought the TV room was for… I suppose this is a bit bigger than the TV room though, and will have computers, so that’ll be nice.

All of this is by way of a pre-amble to the following letter, issued by Grey College up in Durham (the only college to have branded underwear, I believe). I think it needs no comment:

Originally posted on The LBSC

I’m currently between exams, having had this morning’s MCQ/TF/EMI/DIPSE paper, and awaiting my OSC(P)E paper this afternoon. This morning’s wasn’t terrible, but there was a fair amount (probably just over half) of educated guessing. And two questions I didn’t have a clue on. Worth 10 marks each. Out of 65. But let’s not dwell on that.

It appears that the evil students at Duck (Durham Universirty Charity Komittee) have stolen our MedSoc fundraising event from last year…They’re organising a Full Monty event. The theiving evil people. But MedSoc has moved on…This year, we’re having Full Monty: The Rivals , which I’m sure will be much more entertaining anyway.

Originally posted on The LBSC

Just to share with you – my B in English is now actually an A. College rang me to let me know that there had been a clerical error at the exam board, and the module on which I got 14/90 on my results sheet should actually have been 87/90. Therefore, I have six A-grade A-Levels.

Thank you for your attention.

Originally posted on The LBSC

It’s a title that’ll only be relevant the first time you visit. But at least it’s a title, and at least it is relevant to you. If this is the first time you’ve read this. Otherwise, sorry about the title, but thanks for coming back for more. Here’s a little puzzle to screw with your mind (not literally) and start my post for today…

You are on a game show. The aim of the show is to win a car. You are stood in front of three doors, one of which has a car behind it, two of which have goats behind them (for no other reason that it’s traditional in this particular puzzle). You are asked to choose a door. The presenter then opens one of the unchosen doors to reveal a goat, and asks if you want to change your mind about which of the remaining two doors you have chosen. Here is the question…Should you switch doors?

Well, the answer is yes. This fries my brain, as I couldn’t grasp the fact. I could only see that there were two doors left, one with a goat and one with a car, therefore it’s 50:50 and makes no statistical difference whether you change or not. But it does make a difference. See here for a detailed explanation as to why it matters.

What did you do on Saturday? I got hot and sweaty serving the every whim of complete strangers. I was even asked to punish one person, but had to get someone to help me (It’s not something I’m too experienced in). When one lady invited me to her car, JRC came with me to help me get it in there. But he seemed strangely quiet when she invited me back to her house, and positively ran off when we got the rope out. The joys of working at Homebase .

Sadly (not really), those joys are to soon end. I handed in my notice on Saturday. Please don’t cry. My last contracted day is Saturday 13th September. The reason for this can be summed up thus: BAAAAA. Not the bleating of a maniac murderous sheep, nor the start of a familiar refrain ending in “humbug”, but actually my A-Level grades. Yes, I did six A-Levels which classes me officially as a geek. But I’m a geek and proud. This also means that the sporadic posts here will be coming live from Stockton as of 4th October, as the good people of the North-East attempt to make me more, well, doctorish. In just five short years I could be operating on you. A thought that should, at the very least, make you think “BAAAAA!”. Unless you’re a mental patient, who might be thinking that anyway.

Joy of joys, the DTI has published HASS figures again. These are published annually, and are records of accidents people have in the home which cause them to end up in hospital. I used to rely on them heavily in my high-school years for public speaking competitions. Now I see them more as a stimulant to the medical mind. I would personally like to meet the single person who landed in hospital last year following an accident with a cape. Clothing can be hazardous, as any male who’s done their fly up too fast whilst drunk will tell you (strangely, I know on a personal level three people who have done just that). I would have been willing to bet that a sponge would be around about the safest thing in anybody’s home. Oh how we all laughed at Mr Burns’s demands for a spherical sponge so that the corners were not so painful. And yet, last year, almost three times as many people ended up in hospital from a sponge-related incident (11) than accidents with high voltage cables (4). If you’re into home security, here are some cold, hard facts: Padlocks? Pah, they only landed 13 people in hospital last year, they must be crap. And newfangled burglar alarms don’t fare much better – only 16 people hurt themselves. Try installing – dum dum dum – a doorbell. 62 people were admitted last year in doorbell related incidents, but that still doesn’t top the home security chart. Want to keep intruders well out of your home? Want to cause some Tony Martin style damage? Then equip your burglar with – a key. 87 key related incidents last year.

As I’ve used enough stats now, I’ll leave the HASS figures there. Except to wonder how 11 people injured themselves with artificial limbs. Or how 3 caused an accident with talcum powder.

For all of you people who were worried about my toe – come on, I know you’ve had sleepless nights over it – I’m happy to report that it’s feeling much better, and can now answer your questions and is happy to read your get well messages emailed to toe@sjhoward.co.uk.

You see, I’ll have a lot of sympathy for broken toes when I’m a doctor. In fact, I’ll be sympathetic to almost anyone. As long as none of the twelve people who arrived in A&E with sex or marital aid related accidents aren’t referred to me. Because then I’ll just point and laugh. Really, I’m sure I’ll be very good. Trust me, I’m a doctor (well, on my way at least).

Originally posted on The LBSC

I hereby announce that I passed my test.

Which was lucky, really, as I would otherwise have had a lifetime of ridicule from John.

Thank you please.

Originally posted on The LBSC