It's been a hectic few months down in Coventry, trying to find my feet in a new place and trying to get used to learning again, as the last time I was actually studying full-time was for my A Levels which now seem like many moons ago. I've settled into Halls now and I'm lucky to be living with a great bunch of folks. Though so far there has been a somewhat disproportionate number of kitchen-related incidents, non of which are related in any way to me I hasten to add. Amazingly!
The course is proving to be very tough as I expected and I've been spending a lot of time buried under piles of books. The biggest challenge seems to be balancing the breadth and depth of knowledge that is required. I'm used to having a great deal of knowledge on very specific things and changing my mindset to deal with a different style of degree and exams is going to take a bit of getting used to. The end of semester exams two weeks ago were a bit of a shock to the system, and not in a good way. Despite the amount of work I have been putting in I really struggled and I wouldn't be surprised if I find myself having to do a resit. It's been a bit of a knock to my confidence but then I had a mock OSCE last week. To the uninitiated, the OSCE stands for the Objective Stuctured Clinical Examination. It comprises of a group of stations each lasting a few minutes that test clinical skills such as taking blood pressure, history taking, resuscitation etc etc. I was pretty worried about the OSCE. Even though it was a mock I was desperate to do well in it, if only for my own peace of mid after the written exams. When it came to it, I was pretty pleased with how it went. There were things that I can improve on for next time but by and large I was happy with how I did and it was a timely boost to my confidence before returning home for surgery and prior to getting stuck into the new semester.
Obviously it's not all been doom and gloom. A particular highlight this semester has got to have been my first experience in the clinical skills lab at University Hospital Coventry which involved learning intubation on a state of the art dummy thing... that can scream, moan, shout for help, make you a cup of tea... you name it, it can probably do it. Within reason of course. Also pretty sweet was discovering an awesome milkshake bar in Leamington Spa called Cow that offer 100 different flavoured milkshakes including an Oreo one that kicks 10 barrels out of TGI's version.
Other than that, I worked hard with my driving lessons and I'm stoked to say I finally passed my driving test just before Christmas so it was great to get that out of the way! Additionally I've been working hard in the gym to get rid of some poundage and the results are starting to become apparent. I'm feeling fitter and stronger and starting to get a bit buff again which is always good :-)
Now. I mentioned at the beginning of this post that I am recovering from knee surgery. This took place yesterday and I am at the moment laid up on what I call the Chandler/Joey Chair at my folks. The Chandler/Joey Chair is a nice reclining leather armchair located by the TV. Very nice. I must apologise at this point if anything in this post doesn't make sense.... I'm on a range of strong painkillers!
You may remember from earlier posts that I was training for the Great Yorkshire Run. Well, I was until I suffered a knee injury which needed fixing. Yesterday I went into the Elland Hospital to get it all sorted and get to the bottom of some problems that have plagued me for many years.
There are many perks when you get private health care. Or should I say, private healthcare on NHS Choose and Book. You get your own room. In my case, I had room 12a. 12a. I never understand the point of 12a. You know that they really mean 13, they just don't want to call it 13 because they are superstitious. It's like being in a lift; there is never a floor 13 - there's 12 and 14 but no 13. But surely that means 14 really is 13? Anyway, I digress.
My room resembled a Travelodge type set up, except the en-suite was posher and had nice shampoo and soap. There was the obligatory naff print of a watercolour picture of some flowers at the obligatory 17 degree angle - just enough to cause irritation. An Ikea style wardrobe, bedside cabinet and desk.... all looking like perfect candidates to house a Gideon's International. However, sadly not, much to my surprise and disappointment. A small TV on a wallbracket over the desk with a tiny label warning one to 'Mind Your Head'. Not really sure how one would find one's head under the TV anyway but there you go. The viewing selection included BBC1 and 2, ITV, Channel 4 and Sky News. Channel 5 was myteriously omitted. Looking though the window, a beautiful view of a piece of grass and a dual carriageway.
A series of mix ups and reshedulings resulted in me sitting in my room from 7am-12pm. As there was no Gideon's International to read I had to make my own entertainment. I found this in the form of the hospital gown. How difficult can it be to put on a hospital gown? Answ
er: very. After decamping into the nice en-suite to get changed I was about to discover just how difficult. I would like to know who came up with the design for hospital gowns. Did someone sit down and think how complicated they could make it to cover oneself in a piece of cotton? And, chances are, an incapacitated person at that? Instead of just having some velcro strips to hold the damn thing on with they had to insist on some colour coded system for the multiple tie cords that are placed randomly all over the back of the gown which require the patient to be doubled jointed in order to tie them. For me, the situation was further complicated by the fact some of the cords were missing. So I did the best I could in a poor set of circumstances and despite multiple attempts ended up feeling distinctly vulnerable in the derriere region. So I decided to employ a different tactic. I decided to tie the ties first and then pull it over my head. Only I ended up looking like some back to front kangaroo. I decided the first variation was preferable and acceptable if I didn't turn my back on anyone. All in all I managed to spend about 27 minutes on this fun lateral challenge.I finally got down to theatres. In the anaesthetic room a very small man told me to hop onto the bed. Bearing in mind the bed was about chest height I thought this was a tall order and I told him he must be joking, he'd have to lower the bed for me or get me something to stand on because it was too high. He insisted I could make it. I tried, and succeeded in getting one butt cheek on the bed, which, considering the whole gown thing, wasn't a situation I was too thrilled about. After a bit of a stuggle I made it. After he'd finished watching my plight, the small man decided he did have a foot stool that I could have stood on after all. Hmm.
An hour or so later and I had undergone an medial meniscusectomy, a trochleaectomy and a somethingorotherectomy so I can safely say I got my NHS money's worth and I have a lot less right knee to go wrong. Apparently in addition to the cartilage tear they expected to find there were a few assorted oddities in my knee that shouldn't be occuring in a knee of someone my age. They need to get to the bottom of why these things have occured but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be tearing down the mountain and up the football pitch sooner rather than later.
I'm now becoming aware of the extent of my rambling which can only mean one thing... it's time for more painkillers.
Over and out
NLO
P.S. How is a hospital gown like insurance? You're never covered as much as you think you are.
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