I said what I said. Unpopular opinions? You be the judge.
IN MY GRIFFITH ERA 02
pages 6-11 pages 12-17
IN MY WOMAN IN MED ERA
Things that are just...Griffith <3
IN MY HOBBY ERA 05
The women paving the way for opportunities this year
06
pages 23-27 pages 28-37
IN MY TRAVEL ERA
Things to do other than study of course!
Travel for placement and pleasure.
pages 38-41 pages 42-47
IN MY ARTSY ERA
Art, poetry, and sh*t poetry
IN MY MED STUDENT ERA
Being in med is a personality trait.
IN MY EXEC ERA
President’s Note
As a current fourth-year student nearing the end of my journey, I’d like to take a walk down memory lane through the "eras" of my medical school journey.
Year 1 – Fearless' (or really, Fearful?):
I was a wide-eyed and bushy-tailed first-year medical student. It was so exciting to finally be starting medicine, but as the clock ticked down to day one, fear started to creep in too. The good thing about GUMS is that they barely give you time to be fearful by throwing first years into a whirlwind of social events—but then the actual work hits. The intensive “revision” makes you wonder if this is really what medicine is all about. Bombarded by lectures, PBLs (now TBLs), anatomy, and pathology, learning to find balance becomes an intricate skill that still requires mastery. Despite all of this, you meet incredible, like-minded people both within your cohort and outside it, and that little bubble brings bliss.
Year 2 – 'Speak Now'
During second year, it felt like things were beginning to settle. You’re no longer a baby med student, you have a group of friends, and you’ve begun to figure out what works best for you. The brain-mind-body grind of first semester only reinforced the importance of life outside medicine. For me, that meant enjoying the fact that many of my friends were within a 5–10 km radius. Long days in G40 often ended with games nights and dinners at unexpected places with unexpected people. Then, second semester hits, and there’s reprieve—you are free and never have to set foot in the anatomy lab again (unless, like me, you enjoy torturing yourself by being an anatomy tutor). But the trepidation of clinical placement starts to set in.
"Embrace every moment, every challenge, and every connection, for these years will not just be fond memories"
Year 3 – Reputation:
Yes, yes, I know we’ve skipped a few eras, but that’s how third year feels—a massive jump, and my God, you feel every bit of it. Suddenly, you’re ripped from the comfortable little med bubble of seeing your friends every day and having directed learning, and you’re thrown, headfirst, into a hospital. For many students, including myself, an uncomfortable thought surfaces: This is meant to be everything you’ve ever wanted, but is it?
My first day was in a psychiatric ward where a patient climbed a 20-metre wall trying to escape, and another smeared faeces across the walls. But hey, I got a free coffee from my consultant, and if medicine teaches you anything, it’s that a win is a win. Placement is overwhelming and daunting—so many acronyms get thrown around, you meet a hundred people a day, and every week can look different. Sometimes, you’re just a fly on the wall, ignored by everyone. Other days, you’re included, taught, and part of the team. More importantly, you begin to learn the qualities that make a good doctor—the kind you’d like to be.
Year 4 – Evermore:
Ah, truly the dream year and the light at the end of the tunnel. You’ve faced all the turmoils of medical school, and people seem to trust you more. In the ED, you’re working up patients alone and getting a taste of what your life will look like for the next two years. This year, you’re also given the freedom to travel while studying. My elective in India was life changing. From a hospital perspective, every day instilled gratitude for our healthcare system, but I also met incredible surgeons who were true masters of their art. From a personal perspective, travelling and surviving alone in a country infamous for being unsafe cultivated immense personal growth. I will stand by this: if you can, go overseas for your elective. It doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter who else goes, just do it.
Now, as I write this and the year draws to a close, I feel a mix of joy and sadness. This is my last year of being a student and all the benefits that come with it—the early hospital finishes, the joy of seeing your friends often, and actually having a life. This is meant to be the culmination of everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and now I’m about to venture into the “real” world after years of being in the medical bubble. How will I cope? Do I know enough? Is this what I want?
This uncertainty and impostor syndrome, unfortunately, are not unique. However, I hope it brings some comfort to remember that we are all more than capable. The well-trodden paths of G40 and SCHI are filled with students brimming with talent – Med Revue is a testament to this. Every student has their own story and brings so much to the table. We all learn from each other, and from this, our community is born.
Each year holds immense potential, shaping not just the doctor you’ll become, but the person you are. Embrace every moment, every challenge, and every connection, for these years will not just be fond memories—they will be the foundation upon which you build the rest of your life.
To be continued... The Tortured Poets (Interns?) Department
While not every member of our Pubs & Design team is a Swiftie, we felt that ‘Eras’ encompassed the variety of experiences Griffith med students had this year. That is not to mean Miss T. Swift has coined the term ‘era’. We encourage readers to call back to the playful phrase ‘in my ____ era’ widely used this year. ‘In my hot girl era’, ‘In my academic weapon era’, ‘In my bob era’the possible eras of life are endless! This edition of Murmur seeks to showcase the facets of life we are in, both within the realm of medicine and beyond.
The Editors:
From the Editors
There are eras of our past, eras we are in right now and eras we want to start. As you flick through our magazine, see if you resonate with any of the ideas, activities and creativities of our cohort. You might find a new person to bond with or gain inspiration for your new fixation for the next few months. In putting this together, we have truly been grateful for everyone who submitted a small piece of themselves to share with the cohort. The talents, the humour and the passion have been a pleasure to curate.
And just like that...we invite you to settle in, grab a drink of your choice, play some music, and enjoy the 2024 Eras Edition of Murmur! ,
Ah, Queensland—home to stunning beaches, koalas, and a medical school that’s redefining education with an innovative approach: The Budget Cut Curriculum! Forget what you thought you knew about higher education. Here, we’re putting the “fun” in funding cuts.
TheProfessoriate?MoreLikethe4th Yeariate!
Why hire seasoned professors when you can have 4th-year students step into the role of our esteemed academic staff? Sure, they may still be learning how to not freak out during exams, but hey, who better to teach you about anatomy than someone who’s just a few months ahead of you? It’s like being taught to swim by someone who just learned to float—exciting, isn’t it?
Picture this: you walk into your first anatomy class, and instead of a grizzled professor with years of experience, you’re greeted by a slightly panicked 4th-year student who’s just learned how to locate the liver. Welcome to med school, where your teacher may also be your study buddy… or your next peer review!
RoomforImprovement…Literally
Our beloved building has been lovingly dubbed “The Ghost Campus.” Why? Because half of the rooms are currently on a budgetfriendly sabbatical, leaving us with ample space for… absolutely nothing! It’s like the school is playing a game of hide and seek with classrooms. “Found a room? No, you didn’t! It’s under renovation—or maybe it’s just ghosted us.”
In fact, rumor has it that some of those unoccupied rooms are now home to the school's very own “Meditation Society.” Nothing says zen like meditating in a classroom that hasn’t seen a student since the last budget meeting.
TheNewCurriculum:TeachEachOther
The 4th-year students may be our teachers, but they’ve got their hands full. With just six (yes, you read that right—SIX) actual academic staff overseeing our education, they’ve decided to throw us into the deep end of the learning pool. Each week, we gather in the halls to engage in the latest teaching technique: “Student-Led Chaos.” It’s a lively atmosphere of mixed reviews and questionable lecture slides, where you might leave a class knowing less than when you entered—perfect for building character!
BudgetCuts?MoreLikeBudget Cuddles!
Let’s be honest: budget cuts can feel a bit scary. But here at our boutique medical school, we like to think of it as a bonding experience. We’re all in this together—sharing resources, knowledge, and, let’s be real, a fair bit of stress. Who needs fancy labs when you have a shared sense of impending doom?
So, while some might lament the lack of experienced faculty and unused classrooms, we’re just embracing the chaos! After all, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? Or at least more adaptable to questionable teaching methods!
FinalThoughts:We’reAllinThis Together!
In the grand scheme of things, we’re just a small group of students learning to become doctors in a creatively resourceful environment. So, let’s raise a toast (or a stethoscope) to our unique learning experience at the most charmingly chaotic medical school in Queensland!
Now, if anyone sees a ghost in the building, could you ask it if it has any tips on surviving med school? We could all use a little guidance… or just a good laugh!
Written by ChatGPT
Med
A med revue to make you forget the legacy of other med revues! Compliments to the chefs for this onethey cooked!
It was the honour of my life to preside over perhaps some of the most unhinged chorus antics that med revue has ever seen…until next year
connor :), chorus
maddy x, writing
Being part of the Med Revue team has opened my eyes to the enormous wealth of creativity, wit and passion of people within our med school cohort. The stress of our degree can shunt these creative passion projects to the sidelines and it's at these times where an outlet has never been more crucial. Well, I think med revue has been the perfect healthy outlet for 160+ peoplebedazzled with lifelong memories and friendships!
Jisha <3, dance
Convening the show as Med Rev Mummy has truly been the highlight of medical school career so far! To the singers, dancers, and our actors – you all slayed the house down, and to my fellow MR team family –you all SORE know how to put on a bangin’ show! Now that it’s over, I feel like an empty-nester, wondering how I could possibly fill the stage-sized hole in my heart. But alas, the show must go on (and I must pass my exams)! Someone put that on a tea towel! Until next year~
Matina xx, convenor
Revue
brat summer by our lecturers
I’m sure you’ll all be missing the lecturers and their unforgettable lectures this summer. But don’t worry! To help you feel a little more connected, we’ve put together the ultimate playlist featuring the songs each lecturer has on repeat this season. Enjoy a glimpse into their summer vibes!
VInod (and his daughter) will be listening to:
Dissa's all about those throwback tunes!
Linda’s all about chill vibes and tunes perfect for unwinding (and squeezing in some MARIS practice)!
Kwong’s all about those sing-along anthems!
Audette’s got this track on repeat!
A room of one’s own and a closet full of statements
BY SABRINA DOS SANTOS
My first experience with being belittled by a man was by my father. He loved to announce to guests how much of a ‘know-it-all’ I was when I would share newly learnt information at the dinner table or exclaim that I was ‘teaching the professors at the University’ when I would correct misinformation. When I was younger, I thought that this could be attributed to one man’s failings, but as I have worked my way through life, I have been forced to come to terms with the fact that being degraded by men is something that I would face almost every day insomecapacity.
There is not a woman I know who hasn’t dealt with comments made by men that, at their most inconsequential, made them uncomfortable, and at their very worst made them feel dehumanised. These are men you work alongside, men in positions of power,menwhowillnotbeamiabletopushbackon their misogynistic perspectives, rendering you powerless to combat it. Because of this, women are socialised to sit idly by with a banal smile on their face while their intelligence is belittled, their goals assassinated, and their judgement questioned. Our whole lives we are told to be silent, to treat people with kindness, and to gently educate them. We are told to never be loud, never be angry, never be audacious,toneverbedifficult.
I have never faced such rampant sexism as I have since I entered medicine. This has been echoed by all the women I have spoken to. We have watched asmentalkedoverotherwomenwhowereexperts
in their field, overheard them rating us on scales of 1-10, and listened to them comment on the bodies of their patients. It makes you feel so powerless, so fragile, and so lost to know that these men are simply walking around with no one holding them accountablefortheirwordsandactions.
These shirts are my way of supporting both myself and the other women in medicine who fear the potential repercussions of speaking up when faced with sexism. I am tired of tiptoeing around the feelings of men who are supposed to be moving into a caring profession, where they will regularly engage with female patients. I am tired of trying to gently educate men who actually, at their core, do not respect my intelligence enough to reflect on the wordsIsay.
Therefore, I created a medium that utilises performance, publicity, and intrigue to attempt to generate change.Myplight,justasitwaswhenIwasyoungerfacingmyfatheracrossthedinnertable,isthatIsimply will never shut up. I will stand up for myself and others, even when it may detrimentally affect my career or personallife,evenwhenIamtoldtoexpectnosystemicchangetocomefrommyefforts,andevenwhenmy attempt to take back personal power is labelled as attention seeking behaviour to gain male validation (mightIadd-bythemen.ThewomenIspeaktoloveandappreciatetheart).
I know that’s I can’t make men acknowledge the hurtful things they say, I can’t make them dismantle the patriarchal values they hold close, and I certainly can’t force them to respect me. But I can publicly shame them. I can generate enough momentum around the art that they’ll be forced to listen to others assassinate their words and actions. Maybe it will force them to reflect, and maybe it won’t. But it makes me feel powerfulandproductive,itmakesthewomenfeelseen,andintheendperhapsthat’sallIcanaimfor.
Picture two second-year medical students sitting down to reflect on what it means to be a part of this community. As you can imagine, imposter syndrome was overwhelming – can we call ourselves women in medicine this early on? We have barely started our journey!
Once we realised that, yes, we are in fact women in medicine –we agreed it was something we are grateful for and excited about. Sure, there are plenty of barriers we will face, but there is a solidarity among women in medicine, and we are proud to be among dedicated and caring doctors and doctors-to-be.
“Most Australian medical schools have gender parity in terms of their students; however, this has yet to translate into specialties.”
Many specialties, like cardiology and surgery, are still largely male-dominated men. Pay and faculty rank are still lagging behind, and work places can still be volatile environments for women, with sexual harassment still quite common [1]. he 2024 National Women’s Health Summit heard that 2 in 3 women in healthcare professions experience gender discrimination [2].
ARYELLE SARGENT
TARYN WALKER
ON BEING A WOMAN IN MEDICINE
Women in medicine have a long history of overcoming barriers against all odds. Dr. Constance Stone was the first female Australian doctor, but her accomplishment was not without difficulties. In 1888, she was refused admission to study medicine in Australia, and was forced to move abroad to study and train. While abroad, her sister Dr. Clara Stone became one of the first two women to become doctors in Australia. Together, the Stone sisters and five of their female colleagues founded the Queen Victoria Women’s Hospital in 1896. Beyond developing this ‘by women for women’ medical care to tend to the needs of female patients, the same seven women also founded the Victorian Medical Women’s Society to advocate for and support women entering the medical profession. The Stone sisters perfectly embody what we believe being a woman in medicine is about: a sisterhood that is so deeply interwoven into what it is to be a woman
Circle back to 2024, and we continue to be inspired by women in medicine. In Adelaide, one female doctor has developed an IUD in clinical trials to treat pelvic pain [3]. The Australian of the Year this year was Professor Georgina Long (and her research partner Professor Richard Scolyer) who led research that resulted in immunotherapy treatments for melanoma - saving thousands of lives [4]. That being said, research funding still disproportionately disadvantages women surgeons, principal investigators and the health of women [5].
When we say that being a woman in medicine is something we are both grateful for and excited about, this includes the role we can play in supporting each other, recognising that intersectionality plays a large role in medical education and medical care.
Gratitude, excitement, and a desire to support our peers drive the team behind the Women in Medicine Group at Griffith. We have two core areas of operation: supporting women in medical training, and improving female patient outcomes. We are incredibly grateful for what we are able to do and are passionate about passing on this opportunity to others through career development support and mentorship programs, while also pushing for workshops focused on developing all medical students’ ability to treat female patients. We are so proud of what we have achieved this year and can’t wait to see what next year looks like for Griffith Women in Medicine!
so you wanna know about gender disparity in medicine?
BOOKS
The Women’s Doc by Professor Caroline De Costa
Cut by Susan White
Fight Like a Girl by Clementine Ford
Scrubbed by Dr Nikki Stamp
Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali
Emotional Female by Dr Yumiko Kadota
See What You Made Me
Do by Jess Hill
Pain and Prejudice by Gabrielle Jackson
PODCASTS
Sex and Consent by Dr Mardi Wilson and Lizzy Keen
The Uterine Sound Crime Analyst by Laura
Laura Richards is a feminist and ex FBI
hasprofilerandformerNewScotlandYardwho helped to criminalise coercive control andstalkingintheUKandadvocatedforthe criminalisation of coercive control in Australia. She has also written the DASH risk assessment checklist (Domestic Abuse, andStalking,andHonorkilling)forpolicetouse educates police departments and health professionals on the use of this tool.
WEBSITES
True Relationships and Reproductive Health
Children by Choice
Pelvic Pain Foundation Australia
Cheek Media Co
The Centre for Women & Co.
RESEARCH
“Surgeon Sex and Long-Term PostOperative Outcomes Among Patients
Undergoing Common Surgeries” by Wallis et al. (JAMA) “Women in Surgery, trends in 9 surgical specialties” by Dr Vaite Graham and Dr Barti Arora
Article in the Lancet: “Gendered Pain: A call for recognition and health equity”
IN MY OPINIONATED ERA
To: hottakes@gums.edu.au
From: maddyismad@gmail.com
Subject: Can someone please check on the unfit people??
The trend cycle sets a blistering pace, and naturally (though devastatingly),runclubshavematchedit.
These days it seems like trends come and go faster than most of us can keep up with, but something that’s stuck around for a decent chunk of the year (and far too long if you ask me) are RUN CLUBS. Stats show there are now more run clubs than state schools, with an average of 3.4 per suburb (made that up but it feels right, doesn’t it?). I can’t open Instagram on a Friday, Saturday, or Sunday morning without the glaring reminder that society’s most productive members have managed a 5k, a swim, and a coffee all by the time I’ve bargained with my alarm clock multiple times and reluctantly dragged myself out of bed. Seriously, why does Instagram allow its citizenry to repost stories for longer than the original story’s 24-hour window? I see a story of someone sporting Hokas in front of the sunrise on a Friday morning, only to be reposted by their mate in Asics on the Saturday, and then the stragglers at the back of the pack, both literally and figuratively, reposting a day after that. And finally, once the cameraman and the run club account itself has reposted it, the following work week has commenced, I’ve seen the same 4 second clip what feels like an infinite number of times, and I’ve got to prepare for the cycle to continue with the next instalment of said media. Which, as we’ve now established, is about 3 days away, because of the sh*tty reposting rules. An unfit person is granted no reprieve. No rest for the wicked, hey.
You might be wondering where my apparent disdain for a run club stems from. Was I excluded from one? Do I hate to see people choosing healthy habits? Am I against being out in nature enjoying the sunshine? No, no, and no. Naturally, my disapproval is selfishly motivated. It’s because I can’t run. I’ve always sucked at it. And before you tut-tut me for not trying, I did go on 1 run this year, just to test the waters and see if maybe I could get into it. Verdict: I can’t. I had a permanent stitch for the entire run (it was 1500m, feel free to message me your judgement lol), and the ‘runner’s high’ that people speak of is a myth to me. I don’t even think I experienced endorphins. Yes, maybe the run wasn’t long enough to brew up a substantial amount of happy chemicals, but then why do people get into it in the first place? Is it some form punishment? You’re in a medicine degree. At Griffith. In the Gold Coast. Is that not enough?
One saving grace, I must admit, is Strava - every runner’s favourite app (apart from Instagram of course, love a repost). Initially, Strava’s existence had me feeling even more left out of the fitness journey that apparently everyone else was on, but after realising that I didn’t need to use Strava for its intended purpose, I promptly downloaded it. For the month that I used it, I enjoyed logging my OSCEs (a HIIT of course), my anatomy spotter exam (Dissa is such a good workout buddy), and various food shops (I need to complain about the price of groceries in another op-ed). Ultimately, the novelty wore off, but knowing I was doing my bit as a layperson to inject some reality into fit people’s Strava feeds felt like a form of philanthropy.
So, what now? Run clubs look set to linger, Strava has lost its charm, and I couldn’t possibly take up a hobby I’m not immediately good at and get better at running to rectify these issues. But how can I benefit from the social aspect of run clubs and leave out the stuff that doesn’t resonate? Should I skip the running part and join the crew afterwards for coffee? That sounds an awful lot like a coffee club though, and I haven’t heard great things about those…
Email me if you’re at a similar cross-roads, maybe we can join forces <3
Lots of love (and hate), Madison Klinkhamer
BY PRAKUL SAHAI BY PRAKUL SAHAI
In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic,Icommencedmyfirstyear of medicine. Reflecting on that decision now, I chose medicine withoutasingleclueaboutthehuman body.Heck,untilIactuallystartedmy medical studies, I thought the heart was shaped like a heart, I thought a stroke was the same as a cardiac arrest,andIassumedallcancerswere alike. It seemed to me that medical knowledge was intentionally kept away, concealed like the holy grail. However, as I stepped into the new world of medicine, experiencing epiphany after epiphany, I couldn't help but wonder why these fundamental aspects weren't taught to me in school. When I had known thefundamentalsofspecialrelativity, thegroundworkofcomplexnumbers, and the intricacies of the English language,Iwascluelesswhenitcame tothebarebonesofourownhuman bodies.
Health, we are often told, is our utmost priority. Yet, the knowledge andunderstandingofourownbodies and our own biological threats are kept at arm’s length. I consider myself privileged to have acquired this knowledge, but health literacy should be more widespread because health is not just a privilege; it's a responsibility.Forme,theignorance
to health ended in 2023, but unfortunately, not for my friends. Inlate 2023, my friend's father, Hasan,hadaswollenanklethesizeof a watermelon, and no one batted an eye.Hethoughthesprainedhisankle getting off a sixteen-hour flight. For any doctor, nurse, or medical student, this presentation has deep vein thrombosis written all over it. Unfortunately, due to the lack of health literacy in Hasan and his family, he was admitted to the hospitalaweeklateandendedupin theICU.
Currenthealtheducationisnotnearly aseffectiveasitshouldbe.Andwhen thiseducationisnotprovided,people seek alternative methods that may not be safe. Whether it be a quick google search or a blog post your mum sent on WhatsApp. There is a litany of issues that come from individuals seeking alternative sources of education that are not from doctors. Seeking alternative sources can lead to a host of issues, as evidenced by protests to vaccines during COVID-19. This scepticism is understandable when individuals are unable to understand the mechanismsandefficacyofvaccines.
WhenIwasachild,wheneverIcame home from learning something that caughtmyeye,forexample,
electricity,Iwasnaturallyinclinedto stare at light bulbs or play with a battery. If that same insight wasparalleled to their health knowledge, children across Australia would become a vessel of new information and a method of screening for families. A child could pickupthethreecardinalsymptoms ofcancer–fatigue,weightloss,night sweats – that their mother had, or nudge a father who had a swollen, squishy ankle to seek a GP. This information gives power to the patient to seek help before it’s too late.Whilethereareabillionandone different diseases – that are for doctors to know – there still exist a fewverypoignantsignaturesignsand symptoms of deadly diseases that mostpatientsmaybataneyeat.This educationcouldpromptindividualsto seekhelpearlybeforeitistoolate;it couldhavehelpedHasan.
In2024,astheyearweallprioritize ourselves,itisimportantforstudents to know how to take care of themselves. Teaching complex mathematical equations and historical events is important, but it allbecomesmeaninglessiftheycan’t help their depression, anxiety, cancer, stroke, or heart attacks. The truth to any treatment is earlier the better.Butearlydetectionrequiresa knowingeye.
18 August, 2024
THEFUTUREOFMEDICINE
WHEN AI TAKES OVER, AND WE’RE ALL JUST PATIENTS IN ITS GLOBAL EMR
Welcome to 2040, where your primary care physician is now a sleek AI that doesn’t need sleep, actually has legible writing, and has perfect bedside manner—because, well, it doesn’t have a bedside at all.
It doesn’t just ask Kwong and Linda’s open ended questions, it scans your cortisol levels, facial microexpressions, and your reddit “AITA” to see if you really are the asshole. It integrates your entire -omics profile—genomics, proteomics, metabolomics, and that one time you accidentally skipped breakfast and called it intermittent fasting. Think of it as a real-time MRI of your health trajectory. It’ll track every biomarker and casually drop that you’re 14 months away from a heart attack unless you actually make use of the pretty gym clothes you bought for something other than coffee walks.
In this AI-driven world, your healthcare isn’t a game of musical chairs between disjointed specialists. Your organs aren’t treated in isolation, your recommendations are made only after the AI has scanned all the pubmed articles to date, and suggested a holistic treatment plan specific to your biomarkers and backed by the most robust evidence, considering your idiosyncrasies. Forget waiting rooms and wishing you never forgot your airpods. In 2040, healthcare comes to you—literally. Drones equipped with robotic arms and advanced imaging tech descend on your doorstep and drop your meds faster than any uber delivery you’ve ever gotten.
Wearables, once limited to counting steps, now monitor everything from your dopamine level to your response to doomer memes, to see if you really did laugh or cry on the inside. Skip a meditation session, and your AI adjusts your beta-blockers. It’s like having a full-time resident watching over you—except this one doesn’t need sleep or season 1 re-runs of Grey's Anatomy to motivate them to study.
But whilst this predictive approach to healthcare may sound sexy, in reality we live in a world where AI is developing faster than regulations can keep up, and so the thought of who’ll really control your data is definitely sobering. What happens when your sub-optimal present day decisions (like staying up till 4am to get the tv show you’ve been binging on out of your system) cause AI to predict a bleak future for you. What if it shapes your insurance policy and employment opportunities based on a version of the future you may never reach? And whilst this sounds like sci-fi, an episode of Black Mirror may be airing closer to home than you think.
Written by Anmol Atreya
INMYHOBBYERA INMYHOBBYERA
A DEFINITIVE HOBBY A DEFINITIVE HOBBY A DEFINITIVE HOBBY
COMPASS COMPASS COMPASS
(ACCORDING TO MARTIN HOANG) (ACCORDING TO MARTIN HOANG) (ACCORDING TO MARTIN HOANG)
500g pork shoulder or belly, cut into bite-sized pieces
2 tablespoons coconut oil or Olive oil
1 large onion, finely sliced
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
1-inch piece of ginger, minced
2-3 green chilies, sliced
1 red bell pepper, cut into strips
1 green bell pepper, cut into strips
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon tomato ketchup
1 tablespoon chili sauce (adjust to taste)
1 teaspoon sugar
Salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon paprika
1 teaspoon turmeric powder
1 teaspoon cumin powder
1 teaspoon coriander powder
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
1 lime
Fresh coriander leaves for garnish
INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Cook the Pork: Heat the coconut oil in a large pan over medium-high heat. Add the mustard seeds and let them splutter. Add the marinated pork and cook until browned on all sides. Remove the pork from the pan and set aside.
Marinate the Pork: In a bowl, combine the pork pieces with soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, paprika, turmeric powder, cumin powder, coriander powder, salt, and pepper. Let it marinate for at least 30 minutes.
2. Sauté the Aromatics: In the same pan, add a bit more oil if needed. Sauté the onions until they are soft and golden brown. Add the garlic, ginger, and green chilies, and cook for another 2-3 minutes.
4.
3. Add the Vegetables: Add the red and green bell peppers to the pan and cook until they are slightly tender but still crisp.
5. Adjust Seasoning: Taste and adjust the seasoning with salt, pepper, and additional chili sauce if needed.
Combine Everything: Return the pork to the pan. Add the tomato ketchup, chili sauce, and sugar. Mix well to coat the pork and vegetables with the sauce. Cook for another 5-7 minutes, allowing the flavours to meld together.
6. Add some lime juice
7. Garnish and Serve: Garnish with fresh coriander leaves and serve hot with steamed rice or bread.
Written by Lakal Dissabandara (for real)
SOMETHINGMEDSCHOOL DIDN’TCOVER
Written by Shayara Perera
Life on the Gold Coast is not cheap! Here’s our top 10 ways to get you on your way to living the life you want (or just surviving).
TUTORING - Guess what Med kid, you’ll probably have to teach at some point, so why not develop your skills now with a handy side of $$$
MEDICAL RECEPTION – Learn that medical lingo and hone in on your interpersonal skills!
PATHOLOGY LAB – No idea what a Chem20 is or involves? Get this gig and you’ll be the star of your TBL classes
– Great practice for comms skills: just let people trauma dump while you get paid. Easy.
HOSPITALITY - Practice getting yelled at while keeping your calm. Experience doesn’t get better than this!
DOORDASHER – easy way to get paid picking up your own food too! Will it help your Med career? Probably not.
DRIVING INSTRUCTOR – The patience you gain might come in handy when you’re a hot shot reg teaching some idiot intern how to fill out forms correctly
SURVEY ANSWERER – no relevance whatsoever. Just stress free money you can earn from your couch! Yeah, we know you’re lazy.
– Hey we aren’t here to judge. You gotta do what you gotta
– Who doesn’t love a little sugar, forget the
IN MY TRAVEL ERA IN MY TRAVEL ERA
GOONDIWINDI GOONDIWINDI
“Oh, I’m so sorry”
“Wow, okay” “Shafted, that sucks”
No, I chose it
“What? Why?”
How did this happen, you might ask?
It all played out like a stand up comedy act gone wrong. Let me set the scene. Me and a friend, engaging in an in-depth conversation about Chappell Roan’s new album at home, when we are interrupted by a notification.
“This email is a courtesy message to let you know you have received your 6th, no sorry, your 9th preference.”
My living room becomes a stage for a one woman show entitled: grief and the logistics of moving to a rural town that’s five hours away. And all I can do as a captive audience member is watch, and try not to laugh, as she moves at lightning speed through the 5 stages. She grips the edge of the sink and proclaims, “I don’t want to ride a horse!” when we reach the bargaining phase of the show . I throw concerned glances towards my partner of ten years when she’s not looking, and a terrible, unusual, thought crosses my mind: I wish I was going to Goondiwindi.
Many conversations later we sign the form and submit it to SONIA and Zan-Min breathes a sigh of relief, now that the onslaught of emails from her have finally abated.
1.
So... I’m going to Goondiwindi.
Here’s a non-comprehensive list of how I am preparing:
I write out a big message to my mum that tries to pre-empt all her questions: I’ll be gone for ten months, I get three weeks off, no Sam is not coming with me, yes there is accommodation.
2. A studious med-sci who will be joining me in Goondiwindi sends me a self-created guide to the town, complete with weather patterns – highlights include: the Texas Art Gallery, the silos, and fishing.
I stare at the pictures of the RMEA accommodation and consider whether I should decorate my room to look like my teenage bedroom, complete with the king-single bed. I look up the current price of lava lamps.
3. I praise whatever powers above when I find out there is a 24/7 gym.
5.
4. I join the local Facebook group; everyone’s raving about how there’s a KFC opening in town. I think “I could do with a Zinger burger”.
6. I tell my friends how much I will miss them. They tell me how excited they are for me. I hug my cats close – they don’t understand so they bite me.
I purchase a pregnancy pillow; no, don’t congratulate me yet. While some very helpful people suggested using pregnancy to get out of going to Goondiwindi, I don’t fancy explaining that to my future child. I simply want to feel held on those lonely Goondiwindi nights. It should arrive in two weeks.
7. See you all in 10 months, xoxo Goondiwindi Girl
Written by Jordan Asnicar
grandmother
Ahh, Euro Summer – did you miss out this year? That’s a shame because everyone and their grandmother was there… Not to worry, I’ve got something to cure your travel bug. Welcome to my brutally honest, symptomby-symptom diagnosis of Europe’s finest! Pack your stethoscope, maybe a few meds, and let’s diagnose our way through the continent.
Pack
Paris, France – Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS)
Rome, Italy – Osteoarthritis
Stunning in its prime but now creaking and crumbling under the weight of its own history. Between the endless stairs and uneven cobblestone streets, it’s like Rome’s trying to make you a case study in joint degradation. Trust me, my Roman Empire is Google Maps saying it’ll only be a 20-minute walk, when in reality, it is most definitely NOT a 20-minute walk. I can also swear on David’s statue that Birkenstocks are not the shoe of choice here, no matter how much you’ve worn them down to perfectly caress your arches. The blisters were almost as bad as being called out for my skankles (skanky ankles = visible ankles) when entering the Vatican. I don’t know what to say –the pope couldn’t cope.
On the surface, everything looks fine—chic, elegant, sophisticated. But spend more than 24 hours here, and the symptoms start to flare. Whether it’s the stress of pronouncing literally anything wrong in front of a waiter or the gastronomic assault that is French cheese and frog legs, you’ll soon feel those gut-wrenching cramps and urgency for a bathroom now. In honour of the 2024 Olympics, this shitty city might think it’s going for gold, but really, it’s not even making a podium position. Honestly, good luck finding a public toilet in the City of Lights when the urge hits. Romantic? Absolutely! Is that why we’re all sh*tting in the Siene? Yes. Have you had your Inner Health Plus today? No.
WrittenbyMatinaSamios
Santorini, Greece – 3rd Degree Burns
You think people from Australia’s sunshine state would be prepared, but think again. Santorini is like the sunburnt patient who insists, “I don’t need sunscreen”, except instead of peeling skin, it’s genuinely your entire soul getting roasted alive. This overpriced and overrated island might entice you with its whitewashed buildings and sapphire waters, but the UV index is like a radiation therapy session on steroids. Frankly, there’s no escape from the heat unless you dive headfirst into the Aegean, but hey, at least the Instagram photos are worth it, right? Alas, despite pounding electrolytes like a post-op patient with severe dehydration, the sunburn kinda feels like a badge of honour (of course, I don’t personally suffer from this problem – I have olive skin)!
Split, Croatia – Gonorrhoea
Slow clap for this one, ladies…we now arrive at the STI of the Adriatic Coast. It’s beautiful, it’s seductive, and it knows exactly how to lure you in with promises of sun-soaked beaches, worldclass parties, and yacht-filled harbors. But spend a couple of nights here, and you’ll start to notice the warning signs. The feverish nightlife, the suspiciously sticky d-floors, the overwhelming sense that someone definitely didn’t wash their hands before mixing my mojito. Split feels like a bad Tinder date that keeps ghosting you but leaves behind something you really wish it hadn’t… You’ll leave with a tan, sure, but also this lingering fear that you might need a check-up, and maybe even a prescription for ceftriaxone. Remember – if it’s not on, it’s not on.
Barcelona (or Barthelona if you’re pretentious) is that patient who shows up to the ED at 2am claiming they’ve seen God, Troye Sivan, and themselves— simultaneously. The city is a fever dream of sensory overload, like a case of drug- induced psychosis with a side of sangria. Gaudí’s buildings look like hallucinations (and creepy ones I might add), while the nightlife keeps you wired to the point where you’re not sure if you’re still human by sunrise. Tapas? Delicious. Sleep? Non-existent. Bags? You better zip-tie them shut and clutch them for dear life, or you can say adios to your beloved belongings. Stay safe out there, team – some of the street substances might be meant for fiesta, but they’ll actually make you siesta…
The Wall Wal
BY MIRAI ANFIELD
As I gaze upon the Wall for what could be the final time, I feel a knot of emotions rising in my chest. Nuanced, conflicted and unable to be detangled... I struggle to pinpoint how I feel about this experience ending. I stare out the window to see those imposing, rusted poles towering overhead. Every day I saw patients that braved unimaginable dangers to reach that borderline. For many it was the hopeful last step of a long and difficult path to seeking refuge. To them, the land beyond symbolised safety, fresh starts, and flourishing dreams. Despite seeing the Wall every day, I could never reconcile how a place could be so near, but simultaneously so impossibly far. The Land of Opportunity is right there, just a stone’s throw away. Yet again, I am struck by the stark reality of the physical and yet strangely intangible gap between the privileged and the oppressed.
Refugee Health Placement
For the past four weeks, I've been living in Tijuana, on medical placement with an NGO dedicated to providing healthcare to refugees and migrants awaiting entry into the US. My weekdays were filled with a variety of clinics: general medical, mental health, paediatric, and obstetric, while Fridays were dedicated to LGBTQI+ healthcare. On Saturdays, we ventured out into the community shelters, providing healthcare street-medicine style.
As a medical student, I had the opportunity to witness many consults, perform procedural and examination skills, and volunteer in muchneeded positions of this resource-limited organisation. Patients came from diverse backgrounds, including regions of Mexico, Haiti, Honduras, Venezuela, Russia, and beyond, many with medical presentations I had previously only encountered in textbooks. Each interaction added to my repertoire of
clinical knowledge and deepened my appreciation for the complexities of healthcare delivery in resource-limited settings.
Adjusting to Life in Tijuana
Tijuana doesn’t have the best reputation… known for its high rates of violent crime and pervasive police corruption, I came into the experience aware and alert. I remember seeing the slum-like housing for the first time, feeling daunted by the foreign air and palatable sense of desperation of some of these neighbourhoods. For a girl from Brisbane, Australia, Tijuana was by no means an easy place to live. Despite residing in what locals deemed the 'nicer' area of town near the beach, my daily commute to the clinic, nestled beneath a shelter in the downtown district not far from the red-light district, exposed me to the raw and difficult reality for many.
Saturdays meant venturing to the much less developed parts of the city, often with crammed and derelict housing or sometimes merely tents. Combining a foreign language and culture with a lonely apartment on a student budget and a raging case of gastro, I had initially seriously reconsidered my decision to committing to a month of living here. My time here saw me navigating flooded roads, enduring power outages and lukewarm winter showers, and supporting a colleague after their car had been stolen. Yet, amidst these challenges, I found myself pushed into a realm of discomfort that ultimately fostered growth that I would have otherwise not experienced. I was challenged to adapt, persevere, and discover resilience fuelled by my passion for healthcare.
A Different Type of Medicine
Treating asylum seekers within an overwhelmed public healthcare system presented a unique set of challenges. The lack of continuity of care, exacerbated by the absence of medical histories, language barriers and low-level of health literacy, often meant the team was left to piece together incomplete narratives with unanswered questions.
Many had untreated chronic conditions such as diabetes, hypertension, and HIV. Compounding these difficulties was the stark reality of limited resources, where investigations and medications, which would routinely be ordered in Australia, had to be questioned with more scrutiny.
Against the backdrop of only three public hospitals serving a city of over two million residents, alongside a significant population of undocumented migrants and transient individuals, the strain on the healthcare system in Tijuana was palpable. We had patients who had been turned down care from the emergency department and were desperately in need of medical care. Social and legal considerations complicated the already complex medical presentations that ranged from massive ulcerating tumours to outbreaks of chickenpox, necrotic wounds, open fractures, and the haunting aftermath of adverse childhood events. Each case bore physical manifestations of stress and trauma, painting a vivid picture of the interconnectedness of mental, physical, social, emotional, and spiritual well-being.
Through these experiences, I gained a deeper appreciation into the intricacies of health, and realised how closely intertwined various facets of wellness truly are. I saw
how social determinants, such as the lack of access to water, food, and shelter reverberated through the health outcomes of the population we served.
Fridays’ clinic, operating under auspices of an international program funded by the UN, was focused on delivering hormone therapy to transgender individuals. Delving into the intricacies of patient needs and treatment protocols for facilitating gender transition proved to be a fantastic learning journey. Many of the individuals had fled countries where they faced marginalisation and persecution due to their gender identity. Through broken Google translate conversations, they shared their heartbreaking stories and gratitude to finally receive gender affirming care.
“I found myself pushed into a realm of discomfort that ultimately fostered growth”
Despite the challenges, those we were able to treat served as a powerful reminder of the privilege and responsibility we hold as healthcare providers. I hope our patients and their stories will stay with me forever. Their unwavering resilience and determination to persevere despite unimaginable hardships was nothing short of inspiring. We’d often give out donated toys to the children and their smiles and those of their parents easily brought me to tears. Even amid their place of pain and uncertainty, these families still had space for joy.
A
deepening gratitude and growing inspiration to
make positive change
As we turn off the main road, the imposing presence of the Wall begins to fade, leaving only my memory of it glazed
by my unique personal experience… a lingering taste of the challenges faced, and the stories shared within its shadow. The past month has elicited the most foreign concoction of emotions, a curious blend of gratitude, guilt, pride, frustration, trust, and scepticism. But amidst this knot of feelings, one truth stands out: my time in Tijuana has been invaluable for personal and professional growth. It has taught me to confront discomfort head-on, to challenge my own biases, and to embrace the complexity of human experience. As I prepare to cross over to the other side, leaving behind the land south of the Wall, south of privilege, I carry with me not only memories of the patients but also a renewed sense of purpose and a steadfast dedication to making a meaningful difference in this world.
IN MY ARTSY ERA
Why seek the sky?
How utterly bizarre, That the sky does not scar, As those weakened by substance below. Though the clouds change, And seasons derange, It won’t grace our frail passage: ‘hello’. Is there comfort to find, With the knowledge our kind, Matters not to the vastness above? And if so, then why, Do we curl up and cry, When shown ardent apathy, not love? If we seek to belong, Then why wish so strong, For the attention of the great esoteric? We have love in our hands, But alas, as it stands, We are, ineffably, infallibly hysteric.
Your
Nature
You’re late-day sunlight on my skin, The mirror I’m reflected in. The smell upon the winter squalls, The mist that sprays from waterfalls. The river’s gurgle, splash, and shine, The deep red fruit upon the vine.
You’re gentle day that turns to night, With fleeting glow and golden light, The stars the prick the blackened blue, Dusting all with silver hue. The milky moon with face aglow, The fragile fall of dew below.
Indeed, it seems of late I find, That until now, I have been blind. I write and write of what I see, But not what it evokes in meSpeaking plainly feels redundant, When my care is too abundant. And so, I feel that I must share, I see bits of you everywhere.
Loss
I wish to bruise hands, lips and knees, I wish to cow the very trees, That grow despite the fetters old, Yet fall before the Earth turns cold. But most of all I wish of you, To pay the sins you know are due. If one of us must beg and kneel, Just know that I would rather keel, Over and pass as you once did, Over the scars that I once hid. I wish that others’ knees would burn, And bleed and bruise, as is their turn, When forgiveness is up for grabs, I’ll chose to quell my gift of gabs, For for you I’ve no words to share, For for me you’ve no time to spare. It fills my lungs and pleura thin, It bubbles right up to my skin, The quick and torrid flood of ire, That burns like ice, and freezes fire. I can n’er look at anything, For I see all in everything, And most all you, and you before, And all the ‘you’s that I’ve adored. I’ll n’er be loved the way I loveIn challenge, I’ve lost countless glove. And now my fingers, cold and bent, Run through my hair in swift repent, For parting with my gloves, as now, Before the deep’ning fog, I cow. The shadow stretches dark and bare, That’s somehow crowned with mine own hair. For while I will not bend the knee, To thee, it seems I bend ‘fore meIf one of us must beg and plead, Just know, this time, my knees won’t bleed.
HOW MEDICINE INFLUENCED
myworkasa figurativeartist
These artworks by Melinda Mo were completed during her orthoptics studies, intertwined with a short stint at art school which was pervaded by the peak of COVID19.Thisbodyofworkreflectshowhealthcare hasimpactedherfigurativeart.
Fromtoplefttobottomright:
Ethmoid, 2021 (oil on paper)
Enophthalmos, 2021 (gouache on paper) Commodities of Covid, 2020 (oil on paper)
Pandemic still life, 2020 (oil on paper)
Sphenoid, 2021 (oil on paper)
IN MY ERA med med med student student student
How to find a specialty in 10 seconds
Congratulations! You’re starting your career in Medicine, but the options are seemingly endless! Are you going to be the next Merdith Grey? Or would you prefer creating your own, unique legacy? Read on, to find out which specialty might suit you the best.
Disclaimer: list is not exhaustive
Emergency Medicine
You are quick on your toes, quick to make decisions and quick to step up. You love being involved and getting your hands dirty. Chaos is your forte and stress is what makes you thrive. A team player to the very end. Also have a love for adventure sports and taking on a million and one tasks at the same time. If the house is on fire, you’re the one to call.
AKA: Leslie Knope, Jake Peralta
Surgery
You’re bold and confident. Never had any issues in the limelight, in fact you quite enjoy it. When decisions need to be made, you take the lead. You’re decisive, charismatic and only rarely miss a few social cues. You’re good under pressure but appreciate a slow pace as long as you are doing something hands on. Precision and skill are your weapons.
AKA: Dwight Shrute, Monica Geller
Internal medicine
You are deeply curious, always wanting to find out more. An excellent listener, you’re someone who invokes trust. You’re super attentive and won’t leave any leaf unturned. Always caring and kind but serious when you need to be. You’re not afraid of telling the harsh truths if you think it will help someone. The reserved, yet reliable friend who always comes through? That’s you.
AKA: Ross Geller, Michael (the good place)
Paediatrics
You love some good, old, silly fun. Never afraid to be the one that’s laughed at because you have humility in bucketloads. You’re warm and friendly, always walking with a spring in your step. You’re very creative and have a talent for arts and crafts. You see the glimmer of light even on the darkest of days and make sure to amplify it for everyone else. Oh, and you love children. Rainbows, glitter, and unicorns? That’s your thing.
AKA: Chidi Anagonye, Marshal Erikson
Infectious Diseases
You’re a germophobe and a bit of a hypochondriac. You think the worst will happen so no precaution is ever too much. But that’s not all you are. You’re also a mystery lover. You love decoding clues and following hunches to find culprits. But you hate getting your hands dirty. Hand hygiene till the end.
AKA: Schmidt, Sheldon Cooper
Anaesthetics
Glitz and glamour don’t entice you much for you are happy being the silent hero. Playing a role behind the scenes is your comfort zone and you are quite secure in what you have to offer. Showdowns and recognition don’t hold much significance and you much prefer focusing on getting the job done. You are cautious and planned, hate wasting time and can be relied on to have triple checked everything. Your power is your mind,
Palliative care
Everyone thinks you like to sit in dark rooms and interact with no one, but that’s not true. You’re not a vampire, daylight doesn’t actually bother you. You have a love for all things logical and a special affinity for maths, machines and technology. You have an eye for detail and can find things that others rarely see. You’re often the MVP, just without the trophy.
AKA: Amy Santiago, Ben Wyatt
Dermatology
You love all things beauty and have a flair for aesthetics. People see you as a trendsetter but can often be envious of you. You are patient and can endure tough times for a better outcome. You find satisfaction in dramatic transformations and you’re a believer in endless possibilities. Slow and steady wins the race and you love the win.
AKA: Rachel Green, Mindy
Radiology
Nothing really shakes you or gets under your skin. Your emotional resolve is rock hard. You exude calmness and collectedness. You’re an excellent listener and always make people feel seen and heard. People think you are serious, but you are also known for your kindness and compassion. You step up, where others may shy away. Always reliable, to the very end.
AKA: Chidi Anagonye, Marshal Erikson
GP
You’re a true people’s person and an excellent communicator. You love building relationships and knowing people deeply. Specific details are not really your thing, you love the big picture. You want work to be play and you don’t really want things to be too serious. Balance is key for you and you make sure you have it.
AKA: Pam Beesly, Troy Barnes
Written by Shayara Perera
From Profit margins to Pulse rates
my finance degree didn’t prepare me for this.
The thing about Med School is that you can’t really complain about being in Med School, because we all know that we spent years of our lives trying to get in. In saying that, I do wish I’d known that they totally gaslight all non-sciences into thinking they can do this degree with no background, because “they’ll be taught it all” anyway. Wrong. So very very wrong. If the deep end was the Mariana Trench with those weird light bulb fish from Finding Nemo,
and they were trying to take a chunk out of me whilst I was swimming in every single piece of clothing I owned, that still wouldn’t fair up to where I’ve been thrown since starting thisdegree. You might say, that’s the most nonsensical, ridiculous analogy I’ve ever heard, and to that I would say, yeah, well that’s med school though, isn’t it? One big ridiculous nonsensical joke that I wouldn’t trade in a heartbeat…
Now I must admit, it’s embarrassing how little I knew about the human body before starting this degree. I never really questioned how things ran, nor was I particularly interested. This has resulted in anyone I know being very confused and often asking “Tara, what are you doing in med, why the change?” But I’m still drafting a response to that one, might have it ready in another 365 business days. Really though, if I think about it, I have no bloody idea how I got here or what I’m doing. It’d be too embarrassing to drop out though, because every Rick and Joe from the sunny Central Downs probably knows that I’m here by now, given that I’m a chronic oversharer and apparently, it runs in the family.
.
For real though, medicine has been the best thing that has ever happened to me and I’m so glad that I was delusional enough to think I’d get in. I did get in though, and I’m learning that the Renal System is the kidneys; I’ve heard they are important, and you can’t just take them out or pretend they don’t exist. I’ve learnt that the GIT system is digestion and it’s not just a ‘in one hole, out the other’. I’ve also learnt that birthing a child looks like hell, but it’s fine, because a hormone gaslights us into thinking we’re actually having such a great time.
All in all, I love med school. I love being violently humbled on the daily, never knowing if I’m going to pass my exams, and still showing
An Ode to Grass
They appear out of nowhere, the fields with blades of silk
Woven neatly into sheets of green
That cover the parks, the gardens, the valleys and the hills
An endless experience, a psychedelic’s dream
A glimpse into the Romantic depiction of sublimity
But it is such they tell me
As I sit indoors and shatter
Watching Youtube, Netflix and Vinod on repeat
Lesso the latter
Will they see through my ever-growing farce?
Of constant study and yet, somehow, 2 weeks behind on class?
Perhaps one day, I’ll touch some of that sweet sweet grass
A Letter To My Past Self:
Hey you!
It’s me, your future self!
I know you’re probably a bit anxious, stressed and worried about starting uni again. Especially post-grad studies!! It’s certainly something starting “med school” You’ll feel like a baby and you’re afraid that no one will take you seriously.
I’ll be the first to say now that you had nothing to worry about. Everyone’s lovely, supportive and so unique. It’ll be amazing and refreshing to start all over again, it almost feels like a 2nd chance!
Albeit that magic fades over time when exams come around but this time it’s pass or fail!!! You got into med school there is no need to stress anymore!!
Don’tbesotoughonyourselflikeyouusedtobeplease,we’re currently doing fine!
Med school is simultaneously everything you wanted but also not. Yes some anatomy labs will bring you a little down… Yes its you’ll miss your family and friends…
Yes you’ll doubt yourself along the way and feel stupid over and over again…
You’llBUT!It’sbeenablastsofarandthetimereallydoesfly. scratchyourcreativeitch;you’llmakealltheselovely friends and memories and you’ll be able to be yourself.
You’ll watch the sun-rise with people you never thought you would.
You’ll realize life is bigger and there is more to it than justwork, tutor, gym, rinse and repeat. You’ll be fine. Anyhows! Enjoy the year, and say hi to mum and dad for me!
From, RichardNguyen(MD1)
Acknowledgements Acknowledgements
We would like to thank the following contributors:
