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.