Another police report that caught my eye recently stated
that the monthly murder rate in London exceeded that of New York in both
February and March this year. The
population of the two cities is similar. The recent increase in the London homicide
rate is largely due to knife crime. I’m
not involved in emergency medicine these days but when I was, I realised how
much the outcome of any individual assault depended on luck. If
someone was punched and knocked to the ground in a minor altercation outside a
pub on a Saturday night, nine times out of ten they would simply get up and
dust themselves down. They would have no
ill effects other than a couple of bruises, a torn jacket and wounded pride. However if, as they fell, they chanced to hit
their head on a kerb stone the outcome could be very different, indeed fatal.
The same is true of knife crime. The heart and lungs are
protected by the rib cage, so a blow to the chest with a knife may merely glance
off a rib resulting in a small cut that needs no more than a couple of skin
stitches. Equally the knife may chance to slip between the ribs and penetrate
the heart resulting in sudden death, a murder charge and a long period of
detention at Her Majesty’s pleasure! The
assailant when striking the blow has no idea what the result will be. In
practice though, he is putting himself entirely in the hands of Lady Luck.
Most doctors and nurses will
admit that luck has also played a significant part in their lives. It certainly has in mine; no more so than when
I faced the exam which would determine whether I qualified as a doctor. Having
taken the written papers, I had to prove my competence in a clinical assessment
at the bedside. It was a question of chance
which of several examiners would interrogate me, which patient I would have to
examine and what questions I would be asked. I received no favours from Lady Luck that day;
instead she smiled benignly on a fellow student friend of mine!
My assessment started when I was
given a sample of urine to test. The
sample was red and it was no surprise that it tested positive for blood. So far so good! I now had 15 minutes to wait before meeting my
examiner. It was obvious that the
initial questions would centre on the causes of blood in the urine so I began
to classify them in my mind.
There were the general abnormalities of blood clotting, such
as haemophilia and anticoagulant therapy.
Then there were local problems of the various parts of the waterworks
system; problems in the kidneys such as stones and tumours; abnormalities of
the ureters, bladder, prostate and urethra. I thought of them all. Then I considered how
each of these problems would be investigated and treated.
Soon I had the perfect answer organised in my mind. I was
confident. I would dazzle the examiner, not just with my
knowledge but with the structured way in which I presented the facts.
‘Good morning, Sir,’ I said when introduced to the examiner,
a dour looking Professor of Surgery from a London teaching hospital. I looked him straight in the eye determined to
impress.
‘Have you examined
the urine sample that you were given?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Sir, I have.’
‘What did you find?’
‘The presence of blood, Sir.’
‘That’s quite right. Not
too difficult I suppose, given that the urine was red!’ His voice was quiet and
held just a hint of sarcasm.
I was ready for him – my prepared answer on the tip of my
tongue.
The examiner allowed a small humourless smile to cross his
face.
‘Tell me young man, about the causes of blood in the stool?’
In a confident voice, I began to answer.
‘There are many causes of blood in the urine, Sir,’ I said,
‘and we can start by dividing them into general causes and local....’
‘No,’ he interrupted, the sarcasm now more pronounced than
before. ‘Didn’t you hear? I said blood
in the stool.’
‘In the stool Sir?
‘Yes, Lambert, in the stool.’ The voice was now mocking in tone.
The bored expression had vanished; his smile now
a satisfied beam.
The bastard! I thought, wondering how often he had pulled
this particular trick on other unsuspecting students.
Having carefully prepared a list of all the causes of blood
in the urine, I was completely thrown to be asked for the causes of blood in
the stool. My confidence evaporated, my
mind became a complete void.
I was angry with myself for making an assumption about the
question I would be asked and furious with the examiner for the trick he had
played on me. I became hot, I started to
sweat and still my brain ceased to junction. ‘Blood in the stool’, he had said, ‘blood in the stool’. Slowly
my mind cleared but it was only after a good deal of prompting that I managed
to stutter and stammer some sort of answer to the question.
---------------------------
The experience of one of my fellow student (whom for the
purposes of this story we will call Graeme Boswell) was strikingly different.
During his medical school days he had spent some time on an
ENT unit and the consultant, Miss Peterson (another pseudonym), at the time the
only female surgeon in the hospital, a pleasant quietly spoken grey haired fifty
year old, was supervising while the students looked up each other’s noses with a
nasal speculum.
Graeme had no difficulty
looking up other students’ noses, but no-one was able to catch even a glimpse
inside Graeme’s nose. Miss Peterson came to see what the problem was!
She examined his
nose and saw that it was blocked due to an old injury.
‘Can you breathe through that?’ She asked.
‘No’ was the reply.
‘I can only breathe through my mouth and everyone says I snore as well.’
‘You need a submucous resection. It’s not a
major operation. Go to my secretary and book a date. Tell her that I’ve said
you can pick a date to fit in with your studies.’
Graeme duly had his surgery in the Easter
vacation.
-----------------------------
Fast forward 12 months to the medical final
examination when who should Graeme find as his examiner but Miss Peterson who
immediately recognised him. She looked as his nose.
‘Can you breathe through that?’ she asked,
not for the first time!
‘No, I’m afraid I can’t!’
She had a quick look at it. ‘Hmm. I’ve not
done a very good job there, have I’ she said. ‘Off you go! I don’t think I ought
to ask you any questions.’
The next stage of the assessment was for
Graeme to be observed whilst examining a patient. He feared the worst when he
learned he was to meet the ferocious external examiner who had examined me and
was known to have failed numerous candidates the previous year.
‘Examine this neck.’ The instruction was curt, the voice severe.
Graeme looked at the patient’s neck from the
front and saw a goitre – a swelling of the thyroid gland. He was just stepping
behind the patient to palpate it when the examiner interrupted him
‘You have a cauliflower ear,’ he exclaimed.
‘How did you do that?’
‘Lots of bumps and bruises, Sir. I bit of boxing
and a lot of rugby!’
‘And what’s your name young man?’
‘Boswell Sir, Graeme Boswell.’
‘That rings a bell. Didn`t you play for the
United Provincial hospitals?’
‘Yes, Sir’
‘Excellent, excellent! It’s good to see you
again, Boswell. I’ve no further questions for you. You may go!’
So Graeme, lucky fellow, passed both
assessments without being asked a single medical question!!
Comment
With the realisation
that using different patients and diverse examiners did not allow a fair assessment
of a candidate’s ability, most medical
practical exams now take the form of an OSCE - Objective Structured Clinical
Examination.
All students face the same
questions by rotating round a series of ‘stations’. Stations might include
patients with physical signs, interpretation of x-rays or blood tests, or
questions on prescribing.
There are usually two examiners for
each station and strict marking criteria, so the assessment is far more
objective than it was ‘in my day’.
Quotation of the day
1)
In examinations, those who do not wish to know, ask
questions of those who cannot tell.
Walter Raleigh 1861-1922
2) "Luck Be a Lady" Song written by Frank Loesser in 1950
and first performed by Robert Alda. The song
was featured in the musical Guys and Dolls and became the signature tune of
Frank Sinatra.
Do you have a medical story to share with readers of this
blog - the sort of tale you might relate to a friend over a cup of coffee or a
mate in the pub?
If so, get in touch using the ‘contact me’ tab on the Home Page of www.medicaltales.org
To receive all future stories (free of course) at
your email address simply, SIGN IN on the Home Page
Comments
Post a Comment