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!

Tuesday 26 April 2016

The Stufferfish

Illustration by Lynda Richardson
Jay from Inbetweeners is not what you'd call a good role model. A crude, depraved and ultimately generally sad individual, one of the character's signature traits was his relentless blustering and exaggeration in any scenario - despite a total lack of credibility to the claims.

It is a trait found not only in coming-of-age hit comedy tv series from the late noughties, but also unto the Healthcare Habitat, with one particular species channelling their inner Jay at any opportunity (haha inner Jay) - the Stufferfish.

As you can imagine, the Stufferfish's stock-in-trade is exaggeration, with any scenario blown out of logistical proportion to ensure maximum empathy points from those that care to listen. They are easily identified by iconic claims, such as "I have done absolutely no work for this exam" or "I never stick around for MDTs or audits, I just walk straight out". However, though the statements seem bold, their claims are far from the truth. Sure enough, an explorer in proximity to a Stufferfish, with a little digging will quickly unearth the species' flimsy facade.

With multiple witnesses claiming they saw the defendant writing notes for hours in multiple locations on multiple occasions, on top of eye-witness reports of the individual sitting silently in the corner of an audit for three hours, while the decision was made whether to invest in 5p or 10p gloves. Like a lawyer with a client who actively murders the judge mid-way through their trial, their defence collapses with but the slightest of pressure - revealing the deep-seated need for validation by their peers.

The Stufferfish's antics pose very little danger to an explorer - although there is the infinitesimally insignificant risk of believing their claims, which can impact how explorers compose themselves in doing work and in the Habitat (kind of your own fault if you do fall for their claim that they saw a copy of the exam paper and said it was 90% psychiatric medications - did you know if you read first letter of ever paragraph's second line it spells out gullible?) - but they can quickly become grating.

Once aware of a student's nature as one of the species, it becomes very clear when the individual is breaking out their classical exaggerations, inspiring feelings of irritation within the explorer, as the Stufferfish receives validation (or in some cases, admiration), for claiming to do something that they would have absolutely no intention of doing when the chips were down. And unless they can provide irrefutable evidence to the contrary right there and then, there is little the explorer can do but wait and listen to the species' outlandish claims.

The best way to cope in encounters with the species is to sit back, let the claims wash over at your liesure, and remain comfortable in the knowledge that you know their secret, and that you could crack their dubious story wide open, revealing the insecure little person within. But really? That sounds a bit mean - do you want to irreparably shatter this fellow human being's already seemingly delicate self confidence further? It's not like its hurting you right? In fact, maybe you could just not hang out with them if it bothers you that much. That seems like a better plan, come off as less of a jerk that way. Good plan.

Of course, there are instances where Stufferfish claims, despite their seeming ludicrousness, do eventually prove to be true, and the non-believers are left just a teensy bit red-faced by the whole incident. Maybe you should check the second line of every paragraph again.










Ha. Made you look.

Tuesday 5 April 2016

The Consultiger

Illustration by Lynda Richardson
Tiger trails, where tourists are driven through the Indian jungles in the hopes of seeing real-life tigers, are not exactly the best holidays. Several days on an uncomfortable and mosquito-infested coach, and generally the closest that you come to seeing any actual tigers  is when one of the guys at the back, in the midst of a dodgy Indian food fever dream, thought that he maybe possibly saw some orange in the undergrowth. So, the coach stays there for another half-hour in the vain hope that there is something to see in the obscured shrubbery. There isn't - nobody sees tigers on tiger trails, and an explorer can't help but empathise when he is assigned to shadow a Consultiger.

Found, or rather unfound, in most regions of the Healthcare Habitat, Consultigers are an elusive species. There are many incidences of explorers attending the first day of placement, arriving at the location where their Consultiger is scheduled to be, only for it to turn out that the individual is away on annual leave, or has gone to attend a conference on the other side of the country. This makes shadowing difficult, so said explorer's seek out other vicinitous species to follow instead.

These species tell of the Consultiger's famed kindness and teaching ability, but once again the individual is absent on days two, three and so on, until the explorer begins to doubt whether they exist at all. Is this some elaborate joke by explorer command? Or is this some Fight Club scenario, and (spoilers - but the film came out in 1999 so really you should know by now) the Consultiger is your Tyler Durden, a hallucinatory manifestation of your impulsive actions?

Sadly, for most explorers this is not the case, and the ultimate truth is that they are merely subject to the cruel hand of fate, assigned to a consultant species who just happens to be taking a lot of time off when you arrive, or whose schedule changes so frequently that it is impossible to conclusively pin them down to a location at a specific time. You might catch a glimpse of them down a corridor one day, but like any half-decent mysterious figure in a movie, something will cross your line of sight and they will have instantly vanished, as if they were never there....

An explorer's best bet at maximising the quality of a placement with a Consultiger is through early and prompt communication with both the individual and their specific ecosystem. Though elusive, even a Consultiger cannot evade an e-mail - the seeker missile of communications, pursuing them relentlessly and inevitably arriving in their inbox, an inescapable beacon to them that must be read.

If an explorer knows through communications that the Consultiger is away on leave, they can adjust their plans accordingly, thereby minimizing the time spent awkwardly waiting for an individual to arrive that will never come. Furthermore, if the Consultiger is made aware that they are expected to have an explorer assigned to them, but know that they will not be there, they can arrange alternate plans, making an explorer's quest to find opportunities that much easier, and reducing wastage of time in the Healthcare Habitat.


Shadowing a Consultiger can be frustrating, but the species has no malicious intent in its absence. A pragmatic and early stance on communication with Consultigers can help turn what may be an inefficient and inconsistent placement into one of great benefit to an explorer's education. Just pray that the Consultiger checks their e-mail - if they don't, it is going to be a looooooonnngggg placement.