Medics' Survival Guide - part 1

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

*ahem*

We have just had our first Cambridge exam. It was horrible. We have realised that medicine at university is basically like having bipolar disorder: it's either great, or it's completely shit.

So, here's our antidote to the flowery, heart-decorated, cuddly survival guides that tell you it will all be fine. It will all be fine, but there will also be moments when it is anything BUT fine. There will also be moments when your supervisors write things on your essays that make you cry. In fact, there will be quite a lot of moments where you cry. It's "character building".

Whatever you do, you will get corpse juice soaking up your sleeves at at least one point every term. There is nothing you can do about this or the smell. Traumatise lawyers with this, and don't worry too much, you yourself will become inured to the smell and won't notice it much after a while.

All deodorants, perfumes and cleaning products smell slightly of formaldehyde. You just hadn't realised yet.

You make a 2kg cornflake cake for no apparent reason. This is not seen as particularly odd. Neither is you eating it in 3 days.

When in doubt, waffle.

When in doubt, waffles.

If all else fails, kill self. (We can do it properly, and we're morbid by nature).

There is no such thing as a "normal medic". These two words cannot be put together in a normal sentence. They are like hamsters and microwaves: you could, but the RSPCA would come and get you.

You will become a soulless, uncaring freak of nature. This is the natural reaction to medicine. Embrace it. (If you either don't become one, or don't embrace it, you might have a breakdown. Just sayin')

Chocolate. Solves. All.

When lectures are cancelled there is happiness and wonder and "OH GODS WHAT DO WE DO WITH THIS TIME??!?!?"

A good essay is one for which you get a single tick. That's all we want! ONE TICK! All work you do and hand in will take you three times as long as the supervisor thinks it will, and will be so far below their expectations as to render them speechless. This is Cambridge; bright isn't good enough. He will ask you if you did it in five minutes without looking at your notes, when in fact it took you five hours and you used EVERY TEXTBOOK YOU COULD LAY YOUR HANDS ON.

There is no end to anatomy. There is always more you don't know.

You get odd temptations to lick things you shouldn't. Like windows...

You go veggie on Mondays and Fridays, because you have dissections those days and if you eat meat, the taste and texture remind you of formaldehyde and make you feel nauseous.

Appreciation of the partially clothed male form is diminished, as all you can think is "oo, nice acromions!"

Penis cookies.

(It's true.)

Uterus and kidney cookies.

(Also true)

Hallowe'en skeleton costumes are no longer amusing; they are inaccurate.

During the holidays, you will have a moment where you realise that this is the least covered in dead body you will be for a number of weeks.

We suspect this is enough for now. We will sort these later into such categories as "things medicine ruins", "characteristics medicine gives you", "things only the medics can get away with" and so forth.

Much love,
Felicity xxx
Julia (doomed)
Geraldine (more doomed) xxx
Joanne (already dead)