About the Handbook:

The World of Medicine is a complex and diverse ecosystem, containing a countless number of unusual and varied species of medical staff - be they doctors, nurses or students.

If, like me, you are a medical student, then you will often explore this fascinating place. In this handbook, you will find (hopefully) entertaining reports based on each type of species that you may encounter, including tips on how best to survive and flourish in the healthcare habitat.

Enjoy, and good luck on your travels!

Wednesday 27 January 2016

The Worker Studant

Illustration By Lynda Richardson
The student genus has a  menagerie of different species, each possessing their own evolved abilities that make surviving life in the healthcare habitat a less arduous task. Some rely upon their natural intelligence and deductive skills to overcome the trials of the ecosystem, while others employ their far-advanced communication skills or their composure under pressure to elevate them above their competitors. However, few species are as gifted as the worker studant, whose advantage trumps almost all competitors. And what is this innate ability? The answer is simple:  sheer unrelenting, indominable willpower.

In a word, the studants, are a driven species. Relying on a work ethic stronger than Hercules and the Hulk combined (Hulkules?), the studant is capable of working for exceptional lengths of time, retaining energy and focus where almost all other species would have become fatigued and bored, quickly succumbing to the temptation of going home and checking on Facebook. This ability means the species can take in an immense volume of information/practice that is vital for end-of-year examinations, meaning members of the species are normally among the highest achievers in the entire student genus.

Though taking many forms, the worker studant species can easily be identified with one simple observation. The studant stands out by always being the last (and often first) person at placement, or alternatively the first (and often last) to start work in the evening.

Many  expeditions into the healthcare habitat are to desolate or barren wards, with explorers spending a great deal of time following doctor species and doing very little. This is enough to drive off even a hardy explorer, but the studant will not relent under such boredom,  enduring hours of tedium (often against the advice of more experienced species of the ecosystem), through some belief that their patience will be rewarded in the end.

For many explorers, who can easily find their patience and energy drained by early afternoon, it can be easy to compare oneself to this formidable and tireless worker species, with most comparisons coming back negatively. Your 25 minutes of work before checking Facebook and reading this article isn't going to hold up particularly well against the studant's 5 hour marathon session completing their entire drug formulary in one go. These comparisons can be of some advantage to an explorer, with the studant's toilings acting as an icon to inspire the less motivated into buckling down and getting work done. However, explorers and other members of the student genus must be wary of over-comparing themselves, as this can have damaging effects upon psyche and body.

The studant brain is a highly-evolved machine, that eliminated unnecessary organic feelings like fatigue and boredom, filling the empty spaces with extra determination, willpower and just a pinch of anxiety that if they stop working, they will fail catastrophically. No other brain in the healthcare habitat is adapted this way, and those who subject their unprepared minds to such an arduous challenge risk loss of self confidence, fatigue and burn out. It is good to try to keep up with the studant, but each explorer must remain aware of their limits. All work and no play makes explorer's head's explode.


The studant is a reliable and ever-present member of the healthcare habitat so explorers would be wise to become accustomed to  their presence, without being daunted by their awesome endurance. Plus, they usually have great notes, so it's always a good idea to keep one close at hand when exam-season comes around.

Tuesday 12 January 2016

The Extra-Docrestrial

Illustration by Lynda Richardson
Different species of doctor can trigger different emotions in the explorers that observe and co-exist alongside them. Some, like the Consultasaurus Rex, inspire a sort of fearful respect, while others, like the golden goose consultant, exude an aura of hope, instilling a belief in explorers that they too can survive in the harsh climes of the Healthcare Habitat. But different to these, one species can evoke a most fascinating emotion: an immense feeling of unknowing, a feeling that an explorer is so out-of-their-depth that it is almost as if those around them are speaking a bizarre alien language. These are the EDs, or Extra-Docrestials.

The ED's ability to produce a feeling of overwhelming unpreparedness comes mostly through its language. The ED employs a strange collection of abbreviations and a highly advanced and totally extraplanar vocabulary to communicate with other inhabitants of the ecosystem. The vast majority of these inhabitants, having spent many years working alongside this alien race, demonstrate an ability to grasp the complexities of their communications, whereas many explorers, relatively unversed in the "standard" abbreviations and terms of their particular healthcare ecosystem, can struggle to understand oft-crucial parts of conversation.

Unable to determine whether  "DCIS" is a condition, procedure or forensic detective show, a naive explorer can quickly become bogged down in medical jargon that they have never heard before, thereby reducing the usefulness of any and all expeditions into the Lovecraftian domain of the Extra-Docrestrial.

If an explorer working with extra-docrestrials is confronted by a term or abbreviation that he cannot fathom, he has several options regarding how to proceed:

1.       Pretend that they have understood. A risky manoeuvre, it avoids the embarrassment of asking the ED what they mean, but can be difficult to perform when directly conversing with the ED - if they ask the explorer a question or give them an order, said explorer runs the risk of making a fool of themselves, by either doing something incorrectly or having to go back and ask the extra-docrestrial what they meant a second time. Only to be attempted by explorer's that have mastered the art of hasty improvisation.

2.       Note to look up later. Again, hides the fact that the explorer has not understood, (plus the act of jotting down things on a notepad helps the explorer appear extra-studious!). This technique does however pose similar difficulties when knowledge of meaning is needed urgently, plus many terms are only used on a local basis, making them hard to find and decipher on the internet.

3.       Ask the ED what the term means. Probably the best for the average explorer, this will clarify the extra-docrestrial's message, immediately improving quality of teaching. The earlier that the clarification is requested the better, as this helps an explorer appear keen and inquisitive. Just be wary of asking too often in one sitting - a few clarifications are fine, but when every other word is needing clarification, it is a good indicator that further self-directed study is needed upon the subject.


It is not the intention of extra-docrestrials to confuse explorers - the terms that they use are commonplace for them, and many individuals may not even realise that they are using them. A proactive explorer can easily survive an encounter with the species, coming out the other side with much-needed learning and pride (relatively) intact.