Monday, June 27, 2005

Being a medical student can be little scary.

One reason is, of course, that in little over a year's time and assuming that all things go to plan, I will be a doctor. I will be able to prescribe drugs and I will have responsibility to patients. It may not be life and death stuff but it's not far from it.

Of course, in a year and four days, I'll also get paid which will be something of a novelty after a six year course, the equivalent length of a secondary school education.


Another reason that med school is scary is that it makes one very insular, very clique-y. It's something that students in other faculties actually notice about us. They tend not to like us because, well, we have nothing to do with them. We are are the frightening ones who disappear into the Anatomy dissection room to cut up dead people. For the first few years of med school, the only question I was asked by outsiders (and, by God, anyone not in medicine quickly becomes an outsider) was "are you cutting up dead people yet?" Now, people tend to ask "are you in the hospitals yet?" to which the answer is obviously "yes, I live there." For some reason, however, people seem to think we get paid now. I wish. How much easier would that make my life? Outsiders think that we are snobs or superior. I admit, occasionally, to mocking arts students but how much would I have loved studying English?

I'm not in medicine for the money. If I wanted money, I'd have done a business course, a computer course or I'd have married Prince Harry by now. I think I'm in medicine for the challenge and for the job satisfaction; perhaps even so I can feel vaguely good about my chosen profession even when I don't feel especially good about myself. Of course, I couldn't see myself being anything other than a doctor. I have backed myself into a corner but I don't regret it. What other professional course gives one so much freedom? There is medicine, and all its subspecialities, surgery, and all its subspecialities and pathology and general practice and teaching and the list goes on. No matter what one's talents are, no matter how socially inept, there is always a job in some area of medicine.

I still find it a little odd that I have so many obsessions with so many things that aren't medicine, given the scope within the subject. Writing, there has always been writing, even before I ever discovered the crazy online world of fanfiction &c. For as long as I've had access to a computer (fifteen years or longer?), I've tried to write plays and stories and God knows what else. Admittedly, there's more direction to my writing than there used to be and I'm glad that medicine hasn't crushed my interest in it but sometimes I wonder if I'm so enthusiastic about writing just to spite the notion that medicine should be a 24/7 vocation.

Music, of course, I adore. I will go to concerts and I will buy as many albums as I can. I spend too much money on going to the cinema because, without films, I'd probably shrivel up and die in front of Home and Away and Eastenders every night. I'm notorious in my family, and amongst certain circles of friends, for being a movie junkie. There is sport, both as a spectator and a participant. There is reading, fucking hell, there is reading. I bought three books today, just because. I get interested in things and it takes me a long time to lose that interest.

I think the thing that scares me most about medicine is getting the balance right. I'm a long way from figuring it out.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

The game of rugby can be a beautiful thing. Not today.

New Zealand 21 -- 3 British & Irish Lions.

The game of rugby can be a beautiful thing. Not today. The Lions played abysmally and, if New Zealand had been playing any way well, the final score could have been embarrassing.

Enjoyment of the match was not helped by one of the commentators on Sky Sports, Stuart Barnes. Brian O'Driscoll, Irishman and captain of the Lions, was injured in the first 90 seconds but all Barnes could talk about was how wonderful the (English) substitute centre was. Never mind that Brian had a dislocated shoulder. Never mind that the two New Zealand players responsible may well be up in front of a disciplinary hearing for dislocating his shoulder.

The Irish lads didn't play brilliantly. Shane Byrne had a so-so match. Line-outs were shaky but I think the scrum worsened after he was replaced by the English hooker, Steve Thompson. Of course, I could be biased but, then, I'm not a Sky Sports commentator so it doesn't matter.

Paul O'Connell had an okay game. Sacrificed himself to save four points; a bit of professional fouling and ten minutes in the sin bin that probably paid off.

Shane Horgan played fine when he came on but he wasn't really on long enough to make a difference. Plus, he was playing on the left instead of on the right, from what I could judge.

Jason Robinson did not play well at all. He did very little right, in truth. Ideally, Josh Lewsey should be centre back for the second test next week. Shane Horgan on the right and little Shane Williams (who, based on his form, should have been playing today) on the left. As little as I like Gavin Henson, he should probably play in the centre with Greenwood, just so that they have a someway inventive player now that BO'D is out. Wilkinson to out-half and keep the wonderful Dwayne Peel at scrum-half, with Dawson on the bench because he is a fantastic player too.

Less sure about the forwards. After O'Connell, Corry, Back and Jones, I don't know. Thompson vs Byrne? Tough one to call.

Now, I'm sure I've bored my two or so readers with all this talk of rugby but consider this: I wrote this entire post with no 'm' key and gammy 'b' and 'h' keys. Relevance of this? I need a new computer.

Friday, June 24, 2005

Reviews, Admin,

Today, eyes are still disgusting. The ears, the nose and the throat equally so. And I shall say nothing about obstetrics and gynaecology.

Two attempts at reviews today.

  1. King Arthur: The Director's Cut. [movie] To be fair, I have only seen the first half an hour of it but, wow, it's so much better than the original cinema version. By better, I mean more violent. There is also a tad more character exposition which is no bad thing as it makes the Knights out to be moderately less caricaturish. I know, I know, I probably shouldn't confess to enjoying this kind of film but I do, so very very much.
  2. Martha Wainwright, by Martha Wainwright. [album] This is much easier to listen to than I was expecting it to be. It's an angry album in places (Ball and Chain, Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole) but she has a fantastic voice, sometimes harsh, sometimes pleading, always damned tuneful (Whither Must I Wander) She has a very, very different sound in comparison with her brother; definitely more 'country' than he is. I'd love to see her when she comes to Dublin (The Village, July 1) but I'll be away on a holiday I have been looking forward to for months. Ah, the sacrifices we make. (Joke, by the way, oh so definitely a joke)
For those with an interest, I also have a co-blog over here, shared with a classmate and a good friend. Actually, to be entirely honest, it's Gnome's blog and we're just along for the ride. (So thank you, Gnome!) There is a LiveJournal feed for it here, for any interested LiveJournal users.


Tuesday, June 21, 2005

It is strange; read any romance and odds are that there will be a great deal of spouting forth about the wondrous effects of the eyes of a would-be-beloved. (cf: Jane Austen's Darcy and his appreciation of Elizabeth Bennet's fine eyes.)

Two weeks in an Ophthamological Hospital or a good read of an Ophthamology textbook will put paid to any of that nonsense. I defy anyone to see the romance in penetrating trauma to the eye/a bad eye infection/cataracts. The recent movie of Phantom of the Opera did attempt to romanticise what looked like nothing more than a bad case of conjunctivitis in the slightly-too-handsome Gerard Butler (aka the Phantom) but it really didn't work because it all comes down to one fact: Eyes are icky and gross.

Harsh but fair, I think.

Monday, June 20, 2005

Theatre Review +/- Statement Of Intent

I feel as though I should use this blog-thing a bit. I figure it's a good sort of place for reviewing ... things. Like cinema or music or, in this case, the theatre.


This evening, I went to see a production by Footsbarn, a company of travelling players who have brought the
mselves and their large tent to St. George's Dock, Dublin. The production was Perchance to Dream -- a play consisting of excerpts from Romeo & Juliet, Hamlet, King Lear, A Midsummer Night's Dream and Macbeth. The acting was quite impressive, given that it was a bilingual show. Admittedly, I did get a sense of Monty Python's taunting Frenchmen when Tybalt got all uppity about Romeo being at the Capulet's Ball. Come back and I shall taunt you a second time! Fun, truly. Hamlet was adorable and French and totally stark raving mad, as any good Hamlet should be. No sign of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, alas, but that was made up for by the A Midsummer Night's Dream meets King Lear scene. Inspired stuff with an explanation of the plot of King Lear, given as Gaeilge.


Thanks to the wonderful Irish educational syste
m, I knew R&J and Hamlet pretty well. Thanks to Christian Bale, I was pretty au fait with A Midsummer Night's Dream. That left King Lear, which I think features at the end of The Madness of King George and the Scottish Play. (I can remember one particular Hallowe'en when I was but a wee wain; two friends and I went trick or treating, dressed as witches and, oh yes, we recited Hubble bubble with great gusto.)


But I digress!


Perchance to Drea
m was performed, of course, in the Footsbarn Tent which we have been passing everyday for the past week on our way to and from the Luas. The players were kings (and queens) of multi-tasking. They ushered us to our seats and made the announcements about intervals and future performances; they all played instruments and acted and implemented scene changes. All terribly impressive.

It was a long show and, no doubt, I should have stayed in to study this evening but, on the whole, it was well worth it. Definitely go to see Footsbarn if they're ever playing near you, especially if you like Shakespeare and don't
mind a bit of fun being poked at him from time to time.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Testing

Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3.