It’s bad enough that it’s compulsory for us to watch 3 vaginal deliveries. Which aren’t exactly the most scheduled things on earth, seeing as babies have no sense of timing.
But that’s alright, when they finally do decide to arrive, you’re too relieved to see them to be too annoyed anyway.
Plus, it’s not as though despite having done this since the beginning of mankind we’ve found a way to organise things better in this department.
BUT, for things which can be organised better…
After 3 years in the university of Southampton, I know too well than to expect any provision of any time-table that will ensure we learn our core competencies in our final-year, ie. before we become a doctor.
And that if you want to get anything done, you have to do it yourself.
NOW, in an attachment scheduled to end 2 weeks before our finals commence
- yes, you read that right:
TWO WEEKS to revise FIVE YEARS’ worth of medical school before sitting for the finals that determines whether or not we graduate as doctors, INCLUDING a week of revision lectures, meaning that in essence, we only have one week of personal revision-time -
all of a sudden the consultant-in-charge wants to organise our mini-CEX (mini-clinical examination) for us. Despite the fact I have organised my own mini-CEXes before this, which have all happened & with plenty of time to spare.
And despite the fact he did a terrible job at organising the last mini-CEX, which left us hanging around the hospital achieving absolutely nothing, until again, I sorted my own mini-CEX out.
What completely & totally left me fuming today was when during our (absolutely pointless) weekly Monday morning at 8 o’clock meetings with this consultant, he says, “Look, I know you’re trying to get a time & date for your mini-CEX, but you have to accept the fact that there are three of you, and it can be quite difficult to get doctors to do your mini-CEXes. So, all I can say is, come look for me on Thursday, and I’ll let you know then.”
LISTEN: We have less than 3 weeks, starting today, to my finals, and the last thing I want to do is hang about the hospital again for a mini-CEX which MIGHT happen.
NO, it’s NOT difficult to organise for doctors to do mini-CEXes; all you need is a little common sense, ie.
DON’T SCHEDULE all three mini-CEXes on the same day, because that clearly ain’t going to happen, and
DON’T get them to do it all with the same doctor when you have other consultants & registrars aplenty.
Lack of organisation drives me up the wall.
The syllabus is a joke.
I was taught ante-natal palpation during my first mini-CEX, ie. the first & only formal teaching I have received throughout this attachment was during an actual exam. Huh.
And you don’t get as much as you put in. EVER.
For my second mini-CEX, I thought I was pretty outstanding, if I may say so myself. And the consultant seemed to agree with me: She could not stop praising my clinical examination. How great I was with the patient, great technique, great findings, etc.
And then she grades me a 4 out of 7 for my clinical examination.
I was like, “Was there something wrong with my clinical examination? Is there any way I can improve?”
“It was very good!”
KTHXBYE.
I find it appropriate – in fact, so appropriate that it’s almost funny – that this attachment should be the one to end my clinical years here in this School of Medicine. As every patient history & examination concludes with a summary, this final, O&G attachment could not have been a better summary or more fitting conclusion to my 3-year experience training in the university I hate so much that is the University of Southampton.
