The Chamelodent

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

Though many species of student  are very capable and eager to make themselves known to the other residents of the healthcare habitat, there are others who implement the art of stealth to avoid predation from the more fearsome species, a skill that many have mastered to the point that they are practically invisible in the ecosystem. The chamelodent is the prime example of such creatures.

Chamelodent's are fairly easy to pick out from a group of students, with the species being one of the more timid of those found in the student genus - look out for trademark signs, such as individuals not contributing significantly to discussion, despite not appearing overly tired/hungover/bored, or individuals only ever being found in lecture or clinical habitats, very rarely in common student rituals such as clubs and pub crawls. The names of individuals are often not known to a large portion of the student population, but akin to the studolphin, if recognised they are often described to be "really really lovely".

The chamelodent's  personality can vary drastically from individual to individual whilst in the presence of those considered allies or non-threatening species, but as soon as an unknown inhabitant of the healthcare habitat enters the vicinity, the chamelodent's instinctive stealth defence mechanism kicks in. Minimising noise and movement so as to not draw attention to itself, the species avoids eye contact with the intruding organism, only interacting with them if directly confronted by said organism. 

Through this method, many individuals can go undetected, especially by other student species, helping the individual avoid entering into any potentially awkward interactions with other fauna. However, this adaptive mechanism has its downsides, with individuals often finding it difficult to identify non-hostile species due to their shy, evasive nature. If a chamelodent fails to determine another species' non-hostility, they will not exert their true personality, thus preventing true social connections being formed between the individual and the other species in their ecosystem.

Another risk run by the species is how their camouflage mechanism can draw the ire of more observant predators, who may pick them out as "not contributing". Not only will this alert all others in the vicinity of their presence (thereby ruining the chamelodent's attempts at stealth ), but it can worsen the individual's anxiety towards social encounters in the future, thus further inhibiting contributions from members of the species in the future. This can be problematic for explorers working alongside chamelodents, as an extremely timid individual will offer little assistance when called upon by potential predators, forcing the explorer to answer more frequently and leaving themselves more vulnerable to attack by consultasaurus rex, doctor sphinx or trapdoor spident alike.

The best way for an explorer to get the most out of a chamelodent companion is to gently ease them out of the comfort-zone of their stealth mode, gradually helping them become more comfortable with friendly, funny conversation and promoting their inclusion in rituals or tasks within the ecosystem. The species cannot be violently pulled out of its comfort zone, and will only become more reclusive and timid if this method is attempted.

Building a strong social connection with a chamelodent is well worth the effort. As described above, once out of stealth-mode individuals can prove "really really lovely", often meaning that they contribute far more than your average student species when working on a task together and can prove to be extremely pleasant companions while exploring the healthcare habitat. Explorers must be patient in order to make the most out of working alongside the chamelodent - its well worth the wait.

The Rabbit Nurse

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

In this series of articles, prior to today we have discussed only 1 type of nurse species, the Alpha Nurse, a bold, go-getting variety of the species that is commonly found throughout the Healthcare Habitat. However, the nurse genus is very diverse, with massive variations occurring between different species, to the point where they practically incomparable or the polar opposite of the Alphas. One such species is the rabbit nurse.

Rabbit nurses are found in all sorts of environments, helping run wards, clinics and offices in practically every department that an explorer can be required to visit. Though fairly difficult to identify from others of the nurse genus purely from appearance, the a rabbit nurse gives itself away during conversation and interaction.

When confronted by an explorer, the species suddenly experiences a "rabbit-in-headlights" effect, making them rather nervous or uncertain as to how best approach this strange outsider. This may be due to a lack of experience in what explorers (or at least the type that will gradually metamorphose into doctor species - the effect is less apparent during interaction with pre-nurse explorers) are trained to do, making rabbit nurses wary of trusting explorers to fulfil tasks safely or effectively. Given that the consequences of any explorer's error would predominantly be directed towards the rabbit nurse rather than the explorer, this is an understandable survival mechanism on the species behalf.

This can at times become frustrating for explorers, who can often find themselves sidelined during their time with members of the species. There are few occurrences more annoying for an explorer than being about to perform a skill on a patient, doing all the pre-skill preparations, obtaining permission from the patient and getting to the crucial moment only for the rabbit nurse that is supervising you to change her mind at the last second, taking over the task and leaving the explorer looking foolish in the eyes of the patient.

This, combined with the fact that it can be difficult to sign off on tasks if you don't get the opportunity to perform them, can make it easy for an explorer to become irked at working with the species. However, in their defence, it is ultimately not the rabbit nurse's intention to embarrass their accompanying explorer - they are merely following the protocol of "safety first" (something that is hammered into all species in the Healthcare Habitat on a regular basis), and if they are worried that a patient is going to be caused unnecessary stress through an explorer's action, they are justified in their indecision.

Explorers who are about to spend time under the supervision of a rabbit nurse should take a few seconds to introduce themselves to the individual in a friendly manner - if the nurse believes that you are pleasant and enthusiastic they will be more likely to trust you with tasks. A second step is to improve the individual's understanding of an explorer's capabilities. This can be done by showing them a list of tasks that you are expected to fulfil, thereby making it clear to the individual that you are expected by others to be able to achieve these tasks, helping them justify allowing you to step in for them and reducing the risk of a last-minute intervention  stealing away another skill opportunity.

The Rabbit nurse, like all other nurse species, are for the most part friendly - it is often a simple lack of clarity in an explorer's capabilities that provokes them to exclude explorers from involvement. A friendly, well informed understanding can mean an explorer will get countless opportunities to achieve the goals of their time alongside the rabbit nurse.

The Stubat

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

The stubat is one of the first species that an explorer will encounter, often before they have even set foot into the healthcare habitat. Friendly, wild and fun to be around, stubats make excellent companions through the early years of explorer training, making this a hugely enjoyable time period.

The stubat is most easily found at parties and nightclubs, with many individuals of the species frequenting these ecosystems as many as 3, 4 or 5 times a week, often employing its’ signature call of “we’ll be back by one”, to entice others of the species to accompany them on their nocturnal outings (Note: there is very little accuracy to the species’ declaration of return-time –  despite possible intentions, very rarely will a stubat be returning home any time earlier than 2:30-3PM, and explorers are advised not to take the word of the stubat as fact).

However, the presence of stubats in the student genus is most easily identified at 9AM the day following day, with the population attending morning lectures drastically dwindled by the “hangover” blight that affects most individuals of the species. Stubats not significantly daunted by the blight can use a combination of caffeine, deodorant and sheer willpower to force themselves to attend such events, but can be picked out from other species by their zoned-out demeanour (complete with “zombie-stare” and gentle head nodding as their brain attempts to shut down against the individual’s will), their hastily-thrown on garments and their 10 minute late arrival to the ritual (some members of the species going so far as to call on the service of taxis to limit the effect of their sleep-deprivation fatigue).

Stubats can be both a blessing and a hindrance to an explorer of the healthcare habitat. Their friendly, social nature means that those in close proximity to them are never short of social outings and parties to go to – a valuable part of an explorer’s training – and their incredible ability to procure event tickets and invitations from the aether of facebook ensures that few events are impossible for an explorer to attend. However, with this ability comes a certain degree of unreliability – do not trust a stubat to make a planned activity scheduled for early in the morning, especially if this event involves exercise or studying. Prepare back-up plans accordingly.

The species frequent absent from forays into the healthcare habitat can also help an explorer, meaning skills and tasks are divided amongst fewer individuals and teaching provided is more focussed to the explorer’s particular aims and interests. Conversely, a lack of companions on placement can intensify the spotlight of scrutiny imposed upon an explorer, making it harder to avoid a consultasaurus rex on the warpath, or to dodge the trickiest questions the doctor sphinx can muster. Plus, without company, quite dull placements can very quickly become insufferably dull, with even the diversion of small talk now lost.

When working or learning amongst stubats, it is important to throw yourself into the lifestyle - go out with them and join in on the fun nightlife, especially in the early stages of training when the pressures imposed are lower. What is important however, is to know the limit. Avoid adventures with the stubat the night before an expedition into the healthcare habitat (even if they spout their trusty catchphrase), and make sure to keep on top of work - sleep deprivation and a budding alcoholic tendency are not particularly great motivators to work - a problem when examinations draw near. In summary; have fun, but don't go crazy.

Note: stubats very rarely fail to take a few pictures over the night out. These will undoubtedly pop up on facebook, so be ready to strike a pose at the drop of a hat - don't be the guy on the side gurning about how late its getting and how  you have fallen foul of the stubat's "back by 1" call.

The Aconsultalotl

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

When a registrar species has sufficiently grown and adapted for its environment, it will begin a process of change, metamorphosing into one of the consultant species of doctor, ranging from the fearsome Consultasaurus Rex to the caring and treasured golden goose consultant. However, on rare occasion, individuals can also undergo a transformation into one of the most absurd and bizarre creatures in the healthcare habitat; the Aconsultalotl.

The aconsultalotl, though a species that exists in a range of specialities and comes in many forms , is in essence a very strange creature. This can present in a lot of different ways, such as singing in theatre, using strange phrases and greetings in conversation or through the development of unusual fashion sense.  Wraparound comb-over hairdos, overly-stylised facial hair, gaudy ties and clothing (most especially corduroy and tweed) are trademark features of an individual who has, or is in the process of, metamorphosing into an aconsultalotl.

The process of a seemingly normal registrar transforming into a member of this aberrant species is a long one, occurring gradually over years as a member of the consultant genus. The reasons for this transformation are unclear, but it has been speculated that an individual's propensity to become an aconsultalotl is controlled by the individual's genetic make-up. The W-E-I-R-D gene, a 100% not-made-up gene has been found to be present in a proportion of doctor species, but its presentation is inhibited by the direct supervision by superior species in their speciality's ecosystem. Once a registrar advances to consultancy, they become the apex predator in their ecosystem, and the gene-inhibition is lost, thus beginning the metamorphosis.

For explorers, interactions with the species can be a perplexing experience. In the lecture theatre ecosystem, the aconsultalotl's eccentricity makes them born public speakers, with classes  taught by the species being some of the most entertaining that this explorer has ever encountered.  However, though entertaining, the species teachings can be haphazard and so explorers must be vigilant to any important points that were made light of by the aconsultalotl. Despite the seemingly light-hearted nature of the presentation, the content can be of vital importance to an explorer's training, and thus vigorous note-taking is advised.

In the mainstream healthcare habitat, it is often an explorer's tendency to be cautious when first encountering an aconsultalotl, given the peculiarity of their mannerisms. In short time though, explorers will quickly become comfortable around that weird but unintimidating species. The aconsultalotl enjoys spending time with those that enjoy and react to their eccentricity, becoming more approachable when needed and more willing to spend time providing valuable in-habitat training to any explorer willing to play along with the individual's peculiarity. Although explorers must also remember that despite the species strange tendencies, it is still a specialty's apex predator, so caution must be taken when involving oneself in their peculiarity. A surgeon aconsultalotl will not be amused if you contaminate their theatre by throwing your arms in the air whilst joining in on their rendition of "my old man's a dust-man".

In summary, if an explorer retains an appropriate level of attention to what they are to take from each encounter, time spent with this bizarre and enigmatic species can be highly lucrative - not to mention, highly enjoyable.

The Clinical Elephantucator

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

While most species that exist in the healthcare habitat spend most of their time at the forefront of the ecosystem, working with patients directly on a day-to-day basis, there are many creatures that choose not to, preferring a life surrounded by the bodies and limbs of countless plastic automatons over one spent in the scrutiny of the public, and the dreaded eye of Sauron (the GMC).  Lords of their own rubbery graveyards, these are Clinical Elephantucators.

Explorers will make their first encounter with an elephantucator very early on in their voyages,  usually in some distant part of the hospital dedicated to the training of young explorers. Tables adorned with plastic body parts  and under the unending, uncanny-valley gaze of an assortment of dummy heads, the clinical elephantucator is unperturbed by the eeriness of its surroundings.  Using  items found in the environment, the elephantucator seeks only to educate and train explorers in the skills they'll need to survive the healthcare habitat.

Given the environment's secluded nature and distance from the domain of patients, at first glance many explorers can perceive time spent in this slightly creepy patient-desolate wasteland to be completely fruitless, but this observation is far from the truth. In few areas of the hospital will an explorer be able to practice their clinical skills at such a high rate (unlike plastic arms, most patients tend to object when they are repeatedly stabbed with a cannula), and teaching sessions come more frequently in the plastic graveyard than on the ward. Particularly in early years, time spent with clinical elephantucators are vital.

The clinical elephantucator takes great pleasure in spreading its wealth of knowledge of the healthcare habitat to those eager to learn. Be this clinical skills, history or examination or  OSCE advice, the species has extensive insight into what is expected of an explorer, and therefore can provide some of the best guidance, particularly in terms of what to revise and what to include or exclude on OSCE stations where an explorer's time is running short. Some will even let you take treasures from the graveyard, including gloves (the single biggest bane of this individual explorer's existence), cannulas and countless more, enabling practice away from the healthcare habitat entirely.

One note of caution for explorers to take is that elephantucators, not tied down with treating countless patients, possess an almost perfect memory, meaning individuals of the species can retain knowledge regarding a specific explorer  despite not having see them for weeks, months or even years. This can be beneficial to those who make positive first impressions, but hazardous to an individual who makes a negative or clumsy impression. No matter how many times you have taken blood perfectly since, the elephantucator will remember that first time when you boasted of your own ability, only to stab yourself taking it out of the packet. And given the species desire to spread knowledge, he will enjoy ensuring everyone else knows as much as he does.

The elephantucator is a friend to the novice explorer, a guiding hand to teach all that they need to survive life in the bustling ecosystem that is the healthcare habitat.

The Medgehog

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

The vast majority of the healthcare habitat is a year-round jungle, flourishing with patients to treat, staff to follow and assist and tasks for any hard working explorer to do 24:7.However, at certain times of day (lunchtime), certain times of year (Summer) or in certain departments (I'm sure you know which ones), this lush ecosystem can quickly become empty, barren or quiet, making time spent there by explorers far less rewarding and exciting. With little to do and few organisms to work with, many species of the doctor genus hibernate, their routine and lifestyle becoming more suited to the harsh environment. These are the medgehogs.

Morphologically, the medgehog remains a fairly typical member of the medic genus - industrious, capable and intelligent - but the activities that the creatures take part in are drastically altered, with individuals dedicating copious amounts of time to a truly dull task, the tediousness of which is expanded exponentially during observation over participation. This painful, mind-numbing ritual, which all doctors must partake in, but the medgehog is most open in performing, is paperwork.

No explorer, at any point since the dawn of time, has ever uttered the phrase "Oh joy! I get to watch this medgehog write up some notes on a patient that I have never met, and will never meet as they were discharged this morning! Life is good!". If an explorer should even attempt to observe the medgehog doing paperwork, the explorer will become susceptible to "Zack Snyder syndrome", so named due to the altering of the individual's perception, with everything around appearing to enter a state of gratuitous slow motion.

After a few minutes of observing, ZS syndrome advances, with the words written by the camedic losing all meaning to the perceiver. A sentence rich in verbs, nouns, pronouns and other grammaticae will instead appear to the explorer as "word word word, word word word word", not unlike what many explorers experience whilst reading something that they have no interest in reading. The subject becomes compelled to check their phone at an increasing frequency, in the vain hope that someone has contacted them in their hour of need, to save them from this monotomy - but normally with no such fortune.

These symptoms quickly become unbearable, so an explorer must try to find an alternative task to observing the medgehog in full-on paperwork mode. Options available include:

1. Inquire to the medgehog directly about their activities - the species is normally happy to divulge, but many pieces of paperwork bear so little interest that even the individual is unavailable to procure any nugget of information to save the explorer from their tedium
2. Offer to assist the medgehog in their ritual - the medgehog will welcome assistance, but the nature of a lot of paperwork can only be managed by the creature itself, so do not be surprised to have the request rejected. Drug note re-writing is always useful practice for an explorer, as it is a likely item to appear in an explorer's end-of-expedition examinations.
3. Search for different activities - in harsh environments, other diversions and experiences are sparse, but oases can be present. Ask other doctors or nurses (Alpha nurses are particularly useful in this situation) about tasks that need doing. Or just visit a patient for a quick chat.
4. Leave the habitat - sometimes the habitat is totally dead, and an explorer will learn more in their study. This option should only be considered when all others are exhausted.

Medgehog activity is not exciting, but their hibernation is an important part of their survival in the healthcare habitat. The doctor genus sometimes must prioritise completing work in an efficient and careful manner over being  a source of diversion for explorers, meaning that sometimes we must make the most of what we have.

The Trapdoor Spident

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

In this series of blogs, we have so far discussed several species of student, all of which, though highly variable, could easily be classed as "docile" creatures, whose cooperative actions demonstrate no desire to cause harm to their student comrades, seeking only for mutual betterment in the face of the healthcare habitat. Sadly, there are exceptions to the rule, aberrant creatures  that take great pleasure in predating other members of their species. These are the trapdoor spidents.

Spidents feed off of the suffering of their kin, and harvest this sustenance using their lethal modus operandi; a deadly venom known to the outside world as "humiliation". As ambush predators, individuals patiently await the perfect opportunity to strike out - in this instance, when one of their student peers  states a fact or suggests an answer that the spident believes is untrue. When their prey triggers the species' sensitive fact-checking gland (in the area of the brain where other species normally store their soul), the spident uses its lightning quick reflexes to instantly point out the incorrectness of their statement, ensuring that all surrounding individuals can hear, and thus maximising the humiliation that their prey exudes.

With an ancestry dating back to the first spident mocking the first primitive human when he suggested that fire would be totally safe to stick his head in, the species has long since evolved and adapted a variety of ways to use their ambush technique in a variety of situations. In teaching sessions where a difficult question has been asked openly to the group, some individuals will employ a patient silence combined with an inborn resistance to awkwardness. Their prey, buckling under the intense weight of the awkwardness of the situation, are thereby forced into tentatively voicing an answer, and if the trapdoor spident knows this to be incorrect, they will pounce.

Conversely, during revision sessions, others can build up a degree of false confidence in their prey, calling out that "they know absolutely nothing about (insert topic)". Their prey, perceiving the predator to in fact be a fellow student in need, will rush to assist them, running headlong into the spident's clutches. This can be a highly lucrative hunting mechanism, with the student's attempts to educate their perceived comrade being picked apart incessantly by the voracious predator, leaving the student wishing that an asteroid would simply destroy the building, thus putting him out of his misery as well as making the world forget his humiliation, given their sudden need to manage what would now be classified as a "major incident".

Explorers can often fall foul of trapdoor spidents during their forays into medical school and the healthcare habitat beyond, and so must be wary of the species' traps. The aforementioned call for aid is an iconic marker of a spident's metaphorical web of deceit, and thus those rushing to aid must tread cautiously - explorers must be sure that they know the subject to a suitable degree so as to never expose themselves to the species dreaded ambush. In fact, knowledge, alongside a healthy disinhibition to improvise or make up facts, are the best way to avoid spident attacks - if you never err, they will have no opportunity. The protective precursor "I don't know, but could it be...?" will further dampen the toxicity of the creature's bite, if an explorer finds himself forced into guessing an answer in the presence of the predator.

Another point to consider is that spidents themselves are not infallible. On occasion, the species prolonged silence in teaching can lead to them be rounded upon by the tutor, forcing them into the same hazardous gauntlet as they have so frequently forced their prey. And woe betide a spident that answers incorrectly, for they themselves become exposed in the face of more knowledgeable, and therefore deadlier trapdoor spidents.

A creature more to be pitied and cautiously avoided than detested, the trapdoor spident is simply a part of the habitat's ecosystem - an irritating part, but still a part in itself. If avoided, a well-protected explorer can easily navigate all the spident traps in their path, with minimal difficulty.

The Humming-Doctor

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

Life in the healthcare habitat can at times be quite frenetic. Murphy's law dictates that what can go wrong will go wrong, and as such it is not rare for medical staff to suddenly become inundated with a plethora of tasks in a matter of mere minutes, where they had none a short while ago. Though this is a stressful situation to be in for any species, one in particular is well-suited to persevere in this harsh environment - the humming-doctor.

Explorers will normally encounter humming-doctors in more acute specialties, where sudden and urgent task-onslaughts are most abundant. They can be discerned from other species not only by how well they are coping with the heightened pressure, but also through their movements - explorers will note that to shadow this individual requires a great deal more effort than with other species. Unmatched in the healthcare habitat in terms of speed over a short distance, humming-doctors use this velocity to quickly flit from location to location.

Though impressive, explorers assigned to shadow this species should make the effort to keep pace, or run the risk of losing of their target  altogether, especially in habitats with an abundance of winding corridors and small rooms. An explorer may feel self-conscious lightly jogging behind a humming-doctor gliding along effortlessly at what feels like Mach IV, but they will feel more awkward having to check room by room for their target, or waiting in a hall in the vain hope that the individual doubles back on their zigzagging route around the ward.

The second defining feature of the species is also speed-related, this time to their speed of conversation. The humming-doctor's words per minute rate is just under that of an Eminem rap played at fast forward, with individuals seemingly changing topic from patient A to patient B to doctor A to this explorer that they've got shadowing them to what they're doing for lunch, to patient A's blood results and so on - wait, did they say something about their explorer?

This can be tricky for explorers not well-versed with listening and writing down that which is said to them at a fast pace, so the species will quickly leave them in the dust. This can provoke many an explorer to dare the shame of requesting a humming-doctor to repeat themselves, conceding their unworthiness, not to mention running the risk of appearing as if to not have been listening, and therefore wasting the individual's time. The mood of the species is hugely variable, and this can irk individuals of a more stressed-out  disposition. Sadly, with the accuracy of notes and in-care learning being more important than any one explorer's pride, the explorer has no choice but to accept their fate and take this concession on the chin. Not to worry, the humming-doctor is probably too busy to be overly critical anyway.

Though working with the species requires extra effort, explorers will also learn faster, and receive more opportunities to practice skills. The humming-doctor will generally be happy to offload a portion of their work to  the explorer, meaning they can set about a long list of tasks that would be mundane for the species, such as blood taking and rewriting drug charts, but are vital research for any explorer preparing for their OSCE examinations at the end of the year. Practice is the best way to master such skills and tagging onto a humming-doctor makes chances like these present themselves thick and fast throughout the day.

Time spent with this species, which is becoming more widespread with the workloads across the habitat steadily rising, can be hugely valuable if an explorer can keep pace both physically and mentally. Any daring explorer should do their best to shadow this elusive species, and reap the most lucrative experience found on the ward.

The Studolphin

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

Nobody hates dolphins. In the world outside the healthcare habitat, these aquatic mammals demonstrate their friendly personality, effective team workers and eagerness to help their fellow flora and fauna through their mutual struggle to coexist in nature. And the same goes within the walls of the hospital ecosystem, for amongst all the denizens of the healthcare habitat, few are as loved as much as the studolphin.

Explorers will often be able to anticipate an encounter with the species, as mere mention of the name of an individual studolphin will inspire the call of "Oh, you're on placement with (insert name)? He's SO nice!". Further inquisition will reveal little else, apart from really hitting home how incredibly nice they apparently are, but the point still stands - the studolphin is one of the best expedition companions an explorer can have.

Need to borrow notes for revision? Don't worry, the studolphin has already made you copies of everything he has, because he realised that they would be useful to you when he originally made or was given them. Need to collaborate on a project? The studolphin will in all likelihoods bend over backwards to accommodate your timetable, or if failing that, he'll have already finished his bit, as well as made a few suggestions as to what to include in yours. Got a skill that needs signing off, but there's only one opportunity between the two of you? The studolphin will nobly take the bullet, stepping aside so you can have a go at cannulating the lovely elderly woman who has veins the size of garden hoses - they'll wait for the demented patient with spider-webs for veins to yank out another cannula, so they can have a valiant effort at a task on a par with the 12 trials of Hercules. In summary, the studolphin would push you out of the way of an oncoming train, then apologise for creasing your placement shirt.

The only downside for any explorers working alongside this species is their Karmic balance. A typical studolphin's karma is off the scale with positivity, and as a result, a comparison between an explorer and his studolphin partner will leave the explorer coming off as the worst human on the face of the earth - think Adolf Hitler, if he thought Steven Gerrard was the greatest premier league player of all time. Come to think of it, the studolphin's relinquishment of skill opportunities isn't as noble as first thought, given that he'll expend an infinitely small proportion of his karma to conjure up three or four more chances before the explorer has even finished with his first go.

Putting the karma-effect aside, studolphins are to be treasured by explorers, for they are a species that can be hugely beneficial to any that come across them.

Sadly, the studolphin is also one of the more vulnerable species in the ecosystem. Their inherent politeness makes them easy prey for Consultasaurus attacks, who's biting tone and disheartening language are among the very few tools that can pierce the studolphin's protective karmic shell, exposing the creature's gentle soul before the Consultasaurus finishes it off with a brutal put-down. This can toughen up the individual, but it can also be harmful to their confidence, reducing their inclination to explore the healthcare habitat. The species can also suffer from exploitation - they may be willing to let others move ahead of them, but sometimes this comes at their detriment, and too much self-sacrifice can even expend their extensive karmic resources.

This humble explorer is no studolphin - I would happily trample my explorer comrades just so I could take the first chance to get my AMTS skill signed off - but I know that the studolphin must be protected. An explorer must try their best to reciprocate the species selfless deeds, helping them in the struggle to survive the healthcare habitat. Be this by trading notes, letting them take the first opportunities or anything else, the explorer community has to unite to preserve this delicate and important member of the ecosystem before it fades away entirely, replaced by a sea of piranhacademics, all swarming over one another, in a dog-eat-dog habitat where only the strong survive.

The Alpha Nurse

Illustration By Lynda Richardson

As an explorer, one will no doubt spend considerable time working with the nurse genus, an abundant group of species that has adapted to numerous environments in the healthcare habitat. Generally, these encounters can be a mixed bag due to the diversity of nurse species, with some being very happy to allow explorers into their pack, and others not really knowing what to do with us strange, often shy or unprepared interlopers.  One species of nurse that can be very helpful in an explorers integration to the pack is that of the "Alpha nurse".

Generally one of the nurses in a position of command, the alpha species is one of the most able, in terms of leadership, teamwork, patient interaction and task management. Most species of nurse will quickly defer to the alpha, and the most of the doctor genus' interaction with nurse species will come through this individual. As an explorer, it is very useful to shadow these members of the team, as they seem to be involved with everything that the pack is doing.

The welcoming and integrating process in a nurse pack is vastly different to the same process whilst working with species such as the Consultasaurus Rex. Where these species expect the explorer to only make themselves known when the species decides that they have the time to be inclusive, the alpha nurse expects any explorer seeking to integrate into a pack's ward to make their presence heard. This is best done by approaching a member of the pack, giving them a greeting, to which the pack member will normally redirect you towards the pack's alpha.

Boldness in this circumstance is highly rewarded - the pack is very busy during the day, and is less likely to approach an explorer stood at ward reception looking around sheepishly than it is to react pleasantly to an approach from a more daring explorer. Although, one must not go too far so as to be rude - alphas can become irritated if their daily rituals are directly interrupted by an overly abrasive explorer - and as is the case outside the healthcare habitat, a pack will always support their leader, meaning an icy reception from the alpha will incur further iciness from the rest of the pack.

If the pack leader believes that the explorer will be a useful addition to the pack, helping with more menial tasks, performing skills that would otherwise be seen as mundane chores, then the explorer will be brought into the fold with open arms. The benefits of this inclusion are numerous to an explorer, making time spent in the pack's territory much more useful. With pack support, an explorer will often be able to:

·         Cherry-pick the best activities and rituals to take part in - from taking bloods to inserting cannulas, if an explorer declares themselves up for a task, the alpha will gladly grant you the boon, normally with an underling pack member to guide you through the process. This can even extend so far as for some packs to hold onto certain rituals until the explorer's arrival, to give them the chance to take part if they so desire.

·         Gain pack intel about the best patients to talk to - with pack favour, the alpha will recommend which patients are best to interview - helping avoid difficult interactions with patients that are unwilling to entertain an explorer.

The alpha nurse, and in extension the nurse pack, are valuable allies to have gained in the healthcare habitat. The opportunities that a long-term pact with this species can produce are innumerable, and explorers are advised to build healthy relationships from the offset. They are, after all, going to be strongly present factors in the  rest of the explorers time in the healthcare habitat.

The Doctor Sphinx

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

The myth of the sphinx is long and intriguing tale, harkening back to the days of ancient Greece and Egypt, where storytellers told of an abnormal beast, part man, part lion and part eagle. The fantastical amalgamation would stop travellers on long and winding roads, challenging them to a riddle - a test of their knowledge and deductive power. Though the world at large believes that these beasts were merely flights of fancy, the world of medicine knows that this is not the truth of the matter. For within the healthcare habitat, the creatures thrive in secret to those beyond the medical coil. The riddle of the sphinx lives on.

Evolution has however made drastic changes to the species, most notably in the creature's outward appearance. Gone are the wings and feline features, replaced by appropriate healthcare attire and a variety of examination equipment, such as tendon hammers and an infinite number of little black pens. Though distinctly less cool, this appearance has helped the race integrate itself into the healthcare habitat, cooperating well with most creatures on the healthcare food chain.

Interestingly, the sphinx does not categorize into any distinct area of the doctor sub-groups, with sphinx variations found in every genus, be this foundation years, registrar or consultant, as well as in every specialty of medicine. Though well varied amongst the genu, there remains one main characteristic that distinguishes all the sphinxes (sphinxii? sphincters?) - their riddling nature.

All sphinx species take great pleasure in proposing riddles to those around them - generally to species located lower than them on the food chain - normally students, less senior doctors or explorers such as this author. This riddling can occur at any time, often without provocation from the underling, and will consist of a sequence of medical-based questions, normally around the sphinx' chosen specialty, though the difficulty of these can vary from "what is the standard medication for...." to "name for me every single type of hernia ever", and off-topic riddles can be thrown in for good measure.

In this instance, the sphinx is testing the underling, hoping that the selected creature will attempt to answer each question. The process can be beneficial to both parties, for if the underling attempts to answer, he or she is taught not only the knowledge of the question, but their ability to think under pressure and apply knowledge can also be honed. Explorers are strongly advised to answer the challenge, given the minimal risks of such an action.

Riddling will normally cease when one of several eventualities occurs:

1. The sphinx becomes distracted by more pressing concerns - though eager to riddle, the sphinx like all good doctors, knows that the patient is the priority.
2. The sphinx grows bored with riddling the underling, moving on to find more entertaining opponents. This can occur if their opponent too frequently responds with "I don't know". Explorers should attempt to answer each riddle - the sphinx will appreciate the effort of attempting an answer, even if the attempt is incorrect.
3. The sphinx runs out of questions - a more common event in younger variations of the species. If an explorer wishes for the riddling to continue, they should ask a question in response, which may kick start the sphinx back into action (preferably ask a question of a similar topic - "what is your favourite colour?" will not inspire many new riddles...).

Like the golden goose consultant, the doctor sphinx is looking to help their underlings, not just watch them squirm under pressure. Though some lines of questioning can be intimidating to an unprepared explorer, it is important to be game for the situation - the harder the riddle, the greater the benefit wrought by the explorer.

Consultasaurus Rex

The Consultasaurus Rex

Illustration By David Reid
Colours by Lynda Richardson

During your foray through the jungle that is the medical workplace, you will be confronted by countless daunting tasks on an everyday basis. However, few will be as intense and nerve-wracking as when you encounter the dreaded Consultasaurus Rex.

The Consultasaurus, a sub-species of the varied genus of "consultants", is a fossil of a bygone era, a relic that inexplicably continues to exist despite the rest of the medical world evolving into a more adapted and entirely new ecosystem. Highly aggressive, the species is predator to a wide range of fauna, including students, nurses, junior doctors and on rare occasion, other species of consultant. 

Ready to pick up on any sign of weakness, hesitancy or error, the Consultasaurus Rex is famous for using its angry, impatient tone and demoralizing language to bite the prey's head off - often whilst spouting its iconic roar of "When I was a student..." followed by some ridiculous feat of hard work they apparently performed and a generalised statement explaining why modern students are terrible and medicine is falling apart. Individuals are even rumoured to have demonstrated further aggressive activity, although many of these cases are unsubstantiated or are the subject of hearsay.

Though hugely rare in the modern era (with most of the consultant genus being largely docile unless provoked), and with changes in the teaching of medicine driving the species slowly toward extinction, it is still possible that any explorer of the medical safari can encounter them, and therefore must be informed as to how best to avoid becoming the prey of the Consultasaurus Rex. Though impossible to obtain the species' admiration, it is possible to achieve their (if only temporary) acceptance.

When directly interacting with the species, it is important to make movements only once the Consultasaurus has given the instruction to do so - excessive boldness, though normally effective in improving the quality of medical learning with other consultant species, can provoke aggression from the C. Rex, and explorers are advised to act with caution in the species vicinity.

Conversely, the species is often provoked by prey demonstrating signs of meekness or hesitancy. If questioned, it is imperative that explorers do not dally or pause for too long before answering - an attempt at answering questions is superior to delaying, which will trigger the species impatient nature. It can be very beneficial to a threatened explorer to have conducted excessive research into the specific Consultasaurus' interests and work prior to direct interaction, thus improving the likelihood of correctly answering when questioned.

Although it is often tempting to simply evade the Consultasaurus Rex, this is frequently impossible to do, and the more the individual becomes aware that you are avoiding them (or worse, leaving early from interactions with them), the more hostile they will be when the inevitable encounter occurs. It is better to simply face the beast when armed with background knowledge and sufficient caution, for though the predator is highly dangerous to an unprepared explorer, the benefits of interacting with members of the species can be numerous.

Under the high pressure and intense scrutiny of these predators, explorers will often receive the most effective teaching. Fear is an effective motivator, and from personal experience the author of this blog can tell you that having worked with a Consultasaurus for over a month, the topics learnt under this authority are now by far the strongest in the author's entire knowledge base. In the event that an explorer does find themselves trapped in this situation, their best bet is to work their hardest, face the beast and reap lucrative rewards.

Golden Goose Consultant

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

Few experiences of the healthcare habitat are as rewarding as when an explorer comes across a golden goose consultant. Whether the encounter is through fate or through searching, any hardworking explorer should seek out this well-sought after species, in the hopes of claiming some of the treasures that these magnificent creatures possess.

Found most frequently in less hectic areas of the ecosystem, in specialities such as elderly medicine or away from the hospital altogether, in GP practices. Once the golden goose encounters an explorer, it will approach them in an inviting manner, and will almost immediately begin to offer its gifts - one-on-one teaching opportunities, skill practice, contact details for other consultants, even the rarest of prized treasures - offers of work experience or opportunities above and beyond that of standard explorer training. The knowledge taken from these is hugely valuable to any explorer, and these encounters often prove the most lucrative of any explorer's expeditions on the safari.

Once an explorer accepts these gifts, the golden goose will often become even further inclined to produce more and more treasures, benefitting the recipient more and more exponentially. To maximise rewards reaped from these scenarios, explorers are advised to respond with positivity and enthusiasm, egging on the generous species to be even more beneficial in the future. By contrast, responding negatively, or worse, apathetically, can be very detrimental to the experience, often disheartening the species into producing less of its' treasured gifts. In the event that an explorer wants to accept a gift (such as work experience) but is physically unable to (due to prior commitments for example), the explorer can reject an offer without majorly disheartening the golden goose, but persistent rejection puts the explorer at increased risk of missing out on rewards.

Of course, like all other species from the consultant genus, the golden goose is an extremely hardworking species, so can often be distracted from an explorer it has encountered, and may become irritated by the explorer if he or she persists too aggressively in demanding gifts. A patient approach to conversing with the species is recommended - even if the goose is too hassled during an encounter to produce any rewards, it is unlikely that this will continue in the future, so be patient and wait for the correct opportunity to work more closely.

Golden goose consultants are surprisingly difficult to encounter during general exploration of the healthcare habitat, so it is important that once an explorer has found one, they must do their best to stay in touch with the species. Sharing contact details can be very lucrative, allowing the receipt of certain prizes despite the explorer and consultant no longer working in proximity to one another. In an ideal situation, golden geese may even seek out the explorer to offer rewards, such as offering the opportunity to aid in research, or attend special one-off medical events.

Explorers may be tempted to boast of their find with their comrades in exploration, but on a selfish note, this can provoke these comrades to also seek out said fabled golden goose, and as a result, the golden goose may begin to offer gifts to other explorers, potentially reducing the number of gifts that you yourself may receive. If tempted to discuss encounters whilst exploring, simply bring up the Consultasaurus Rex that you worked with last month. They're welcome to take him off your hands.

Golden geese are a fountain from which countless opportunities may spring for any explorer, provided that the explorer approaches the situation enthusiastically and patiently. If you are on good terms with an individual of the species, the individual will most probably be friendly to you, and the rewards from such a friendship can keep coming for countless years.

Student Sloth

The Student Sloth

Illustration by Lynda Richardson

The medical safari has an abundance of species from the student genu, and one of the most curious and enigmatic of these species is the student sloth. Generally docile, the student sloth is a lesser-spotted creature in the ecosystem, often as a result of the creature's disdain to leave the shelter of its own home except when absolutely necessary. The reason for this inactivity is often unclear, but experts have cited both poor work ethic and fatigue as potential causes.

However, the sloth should not to be confused with the "party animal" species, which will be discussed in a future article, for though both are often absent from the hospital ecosystem, the sloth presents with an equal level of disdain for the party animal's famed nocturnal activities. Except the consumption of alcohol, which the sloth will happily partake in, provided that they are not required to walk any great distance.

The combination of the species' lack of activity during both the day and night cycle provokes a compelling mystery as to the cause of the sloth's distinct apathy - potential theories that explain this phenomenon include:

• The secrecy theory - the theory suggesting that sloths in fact study through the night, unbeknownst to the world at large.
• The superhero theory - where the sloth is in fact a masked crimefighter, choosing to spend his nights battling evil, for the benefit of mankind.
• The screen-scroller theory - that sloth's spend many hours each night scrolling the internet, playing games and watching movies.

Sadly, the mysteriousness of the sloth's inner nature and a lack of evidence to support any of these theories mean that explorers can only speculate as to the real cause of fatigue amongst sloths (Editor note: there is actually substantial evidence in support of the screen-scroller theory, but it is much more fun to think that they're up to something a little more glamorous each night).

There can be benefits and costs to explorers who find themselves working in close proximity with students of the sloth species - their absences in the ecosystem mean for better one-on-one teaching for explorers and more opportunities to perform skills under supervision. However this increased scrutiny can be costly in certain circumstances, such as if explorers find themselves one-on-one with a Consultasaurus Rex.

Similarly, tasks requiring sloth contribution become more stressful, with the sloth's insistence on acting only in the very last minute prior to a piece of work's deadline. This is most commonly a ploy to reduce the risk of the sloth having to re-do any piece of work, and very rarely will a sloth ever leave a task incomplete beyond deadline. Explorers must remember that the best way to approach a task alongside sloths is to simply complete your aspect of the project and present this to the sloth, who will then put the work together as is their nature. This also means that explorer's avoid the arduous task of formatting separate pieces of work into one coherent project.

One final cause for concern if frequently exposed to sloth activity is that explorers can find themselves "going native", becoming tempted by the sloth's seemingly effortless lifestyle, without consideration for the sloth's ability to effortlessly pass exams. They have been habituated over the course of many years to be able to survive countless last-minute project completions, minimalist revision and extended hours dedicated to nothing but leisure. You have not. They were born to this nature, whereas you have merely adopted it, and will not last long when deadlines draw near and pressure mounts.

In conclusion, student sloths are mysterious creatures, capable of impressive feats of revision efficiency. By all means partake in their lifestyle, but do not become too engrossed, as this can prove deadly for your career as an explorer of the medical habitat.