My fellow medical students, interns, residents and attendings: I am not a medical student but an emeritus professor of Obstetrics and Gynecology at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine, and also a voluntary faculty member at the Florida International University Herbert Wertheim College of Medicine. I have a great deal of contact with medical students and residents. During training (as student or resident), gaining confidence in one's own abilities is a very important part of becoming a practitioner. This aspect of training does not always receive the necessary attention and emphasis. Below I describe one of the events of confidence building that has had an important and lasting influence on my career as an academic physician. I graduated from medical school in Belgium many years ago. I came to the US to do my internship in a small hospital in up state NY. I was as green as any intern could be, as medical school in Belgium at that time had very little hands on practice, as opposed to the US medical graduates. I had a lot of "book knowledge" but very little practical confidence in myself. The US graduates were way ahead of me. My fellow interns, residents and attendings were really understanding and did their best to build my confidence and never made me feel inferior. One such confidence-building episodes I remember vividly. Sometime in the middle part of the one-year internship, I was on call in the emergency room and was called to see a woman who was obviously in active labor. She was in her thirties and had already delivered several babies before. The problem was that she had had no prenatal care at all and there was no record of her in the hospital. I began by asking her some standard questions, like when her last menstrual period had been and when she thought her due date was. I did not get far with my questioning as she had one contraction after another and she was not interested in answering. Soon the bag of waters broke and she said that she had to push. The only obvious action for me at that point was to get ready for a delivery in the emergency room. There was no time to transport the woman to the labor and delivery room. There was an emergency delivery “pack” in the ER, which the nurses opened for me while I quickly washed my hands and put on gloves. Soon after, a healthy, screaming, but rather small baby was delivered and handed to the pediatric resident who had been called. At that point it became obvious that there was one more baby inside the uterus. Realizing that I was dealing with a twin pregnancy, I panicked, as in my limited experience during my obstetrical rotation some months earlier I had never performed or even seen a twin delivery. I asked the nurses to summon the chief resident, who promptly arrived to my great relief. I immediately started peeling off my gloves to make room for the resident to take my place and deliver this twin baby. However, after verifying that this baby was also a "vertex" without any obvious problem, he calmly stood by, and over my objections, bluntly told me “you can do it”, even though I kept telling him that this was a first for me. I delivered this healthy, screaming twin baby in front of a large number of nurses and doctors crowding the room, only to realize that this was not the end of it and that indeed there was a third baby. Now I was really ready to step aside and let the chief resident take over. However he remained calm and again, stood by and assured me that I could handle this situation. I am not even sure how many triplets he had delivered himself as they are not too common. Baby number three appeared quickly and also was healthy and vigorous. What a boost to my self-confidence that was! I only delivered one other set of triplets later in my career and that was by C-Section. All three babies came head first. If one of them had been a breech the situation might have been quite different. What I will never forget is the implied lesson in confidence building the chief resident gave me. I have always remembered that. In fact I have put this approach in practice numerous times when the roles were reversed later in my career as teacher. Often in a somewhat difficult situation at the bedside or in the operating room, a student or more junior doctor would refer to me to take over and finish a procedure he or she did not feel qualified to do. Many times I would reassure and encourage that person to continue while I talked him or her through it. Many of these junior doctors have told me afterwards how they appreciated this confidence building. Of course one has to be careful to balance this approach with patient safety and I have never delegated responsibility in critical situations and have often taken over when a junior doctor was having trouble. Those interested, can read more about my experiences in the US and a number of other countries, in a free e book, entitled "Crosscultural Doctoring. On and Off the Beaten Path" can be downloaded at this link. Enjoy!
DR William LeMaire
over 6 years ago
This slide show should be an easy way to cover almost all of the obstetric information you will need for your final exams. It covers pregnancy, emergencies, infections, miscarriages & still births, TOP, induction, c-sections, normal labour, antenatal care and post natal care.
almost 6 years ago
This video - produced by students at Oxford University Medical School in conjunction with the faculty - demonstrates how to deliver oxygen therapy through various devices, as well as the prescribing of oxygen.<br>It is part of a series of videos covering Respiratory Medicine skills.<br><br>Please see the BTS guidelines for more information:<br><a href="http://www.brit-thoracic.org.uk/guidelines/emergency-oxygen-use-in-adult-patients.aspx" target="_blank" title="http://www.brit-thoracic.org.uk/guidelines/emergency-oxygen-use-in-adult-patients.aspx" rel="nofollow" dir="ltr" class="yt-uix-redirect-link">http://www.brit-thoracic.org.uk/guidelines/emergency-oxygen-use-in-adult-pati...</a>
over 8 years ago
I started medical school in 2007 wanting to 'making people better'. I stopped medical school in 2010 facing the reality of not being able to get better myself, being ill and later to be diagnosed with several long term health conditions. This post is about my transition from being a medical student, to the other side - being a patient. There are many things I wish I knew about long-term health conditions and patients when I was a medical student. I hope that through this post, current medical students can become aware of some of theses things and put them into practice as doctors themselves. I went to medical school because I wanted to help people and make them better. I admired doctors up on their pedestals for their knowledge and skills and expertise to 'fix things'. The hardest thing for me was accepting that doctors can't always make people better - they couldn't make me better. Holding doctors so highly meant it was very difficult for me to accept their limitations when it came to incurable long-term conditions and then to accept that as a patient I had capacity myself to help my conditions and situation. Having studied medicine at a very academic university, I had a very strict perception of knowledge. Knowledge was hard and fast medical facts that were taught in a formal setting. I worked all day and night learning the anatomical names for all the muscles in the eye, the cranial nerves and citric acid cycle, not to mention the pharmacology in second year. Being immersed in that academic scientific environment, I correlated expertise with PhDs and papers. It was a real challenge to realise that knowledge doesn't always have to be acquired through a formal educational but that it can be acquired through experience. Importantly, knowledge acquired through experience is equally valid! This means the knowledge my clinicians have developed through studying and working is as valid as my knowledge of my conditions, symptoms and triggers, developed through experiencing it day in day out. I used to feel cross about 'expert patients' - I have spent all these hours in a library learning the biochemistry and pharmacology and 'Joe Bloggs' walks in and knows it all! That wasn't the right attitude, and wasn't fair on patients. As an expert patient myself now, I have come to understood that we are experts through different means, and in different fields. My clinicians remain experts in the biological aspects on disease, but that's not the full picture. I am an expert in the psychological and social impact of my conditions. All aspects need to be taken into account if I am going to have holistic integrated care - the biopsychosocial model in practice - and that's where shared-decision making comes in. The other concept which is has been shattered since making the transition from medical student to patient is that of routine. In my first rotation, orthopaedics and rheumatology, I lost track within the first week of how many outpatient appointments I sat in on. I didn't really think anything of them - they are just another 15 minute slot of time filled with learning in a very busy day. As a patient, my perspective couldn't be more different. I have one appointment with my consultant a year, and spend weeks planning and preparing, then a month recovering emotionally. Earlier this year I wrote a whole post just about this - The Anatomy of an Appointment. Appointments are routine for you - they are not for us! The concept of routine applies to symptoms too. After my first relapse, I had an emergency appointment with my consultant, and presented with very blurred vision and almost total loss of movement in my hands. That very fact I had requested an urgent appointment suggest how worried I was. My consultants response in the appointment was "there is nothing alarming about your symptoms". I fully appreciate that my symptoms may not have meant I was going to drop dead there and then, and that in comparison to his patients in ICU, I was not as serious. But loosing vision and all use of ones hands at the age of 23 (or any age for that matter) is alarming in my books! I guess he was trying to reassure me, but it didn't come across like that! I have a Chiari malformation (in addition to Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome and Elhers-Danlos Syndrome) and have been referred to a neurosurgeon to discuss the possibility of neurosurgery. It is stating the obvious to say that for a neurosurgeon, brain surgery is routine - it's their job! For me, the prospect of even being referred to a neurosurgeon was terrifying, before I even got to the stage of discussing the operation. It is not a routine experience at all! At the moment, surgery is not needed (phew!) but the initial experience of this contact with neurosurgeons illustrates the concept of routines and how much our perspectives differ. As someone with three quite rare and complex conditions, I am invariable met in A&E with comments like "you are so interesting!". I remember sitting in the hospital cafeteria at lunch as a student and literally feasting on the 'fascinating' cases we had seen on upstairs on the wards that morning. "oh you must go and see that really interesting patient with X, Y and Z!" I am so thankful that you all find medicine so interesting - you need that passion and fascination to help you with the ongoing learning and drive to be a doctor. I found it fascinating too! But I no longer find neurology that interesting - it is too close to home. Nothing is "interesting" if you live with it day in day out. No matter what funky things my autonomic nervous may be doing, there is nothing interesting or fascinating about temporary paralysis, headaches and the day to day grind of my symptoms. This post was inspired by NHS Change Day (13th March 2013) - as a patient, I wanted to share these few things with medical students, what I wish I knew when I was where you are now, to help the next generation of doctors become the very best doctors they can. I wish you all the very best for the rest of your studies, and thank you very much for reading! Anya de Iongh www.thepatientpatient2011.blogspot.co.uk @anyadei
Anya de Iongh
almost 8 years ago
I'm an SHO, but I don't have your typical ward based job. In the last four years I have treated in jungles, underwater (in scuba gear), 5m from a gorilla, up a volcano, on a beach, at altitude, on safari, in a bog and on a boat. Expedition medicine is a great way to travel the world, take time out whist expanding your CV, and be physically and mentally challenged and develop your skill and knowledge base. As a doctor, you can undertake expeditions during your 'spare time' but it is more common for doctors to go on expeditions between F2 and specialty training. This is the ideal time either because you have been working for the last 7 years and either you need a break, the NHS has broken you, or you don't know what you want to do with your career and need time to think. At this point I would recommend using your F2 course/study budget on an Expedition Medicine course. They are expensive, but the knowledge and skill base you gain makes you more prepared and competitive for expedition jobs. There are many types of Expedition Medicine jobs ranging from endurance sports races to scientific expeditions. Although the jobs differ, there are many ailments common to all. You should expect to treat diarrhoea and vomiting, insect bites, blisters, cuts, injuries, and GP complaints such headaches and exacerbations of chronic illnesses. More serious injuries and illnesses can occur so it is good to be prepared as possible. To help, ensure your medical kit is labelled and organised e.g. labelled cannulation kit, emergency kit is always accessible and you are familiar with the casevac plan. Your role as an Expedition Medic involves more that the treatment of clients. A typical job also includes client selection and education, risk assessment, updating casevac plans, stock-checking kit, health promotion, project management and writing debriefs. What's Right For You? If you're keen to do Expedition Medicine, first think about where you want to go and then for how long. Think hard about these choices. A 6 month expedition through the jungle sounds exciting, but if you don't like spiders, creepy-crawlies and leaches, and the furthest you have travelled is an all-inclusive to Mallorca, then it might be best to start with a 4 week expedition in France. When you have an idea of what you want to do there are many organisations that you can apply to, including: Operation Wallacea Raleigh Across the Divide World Challenge Floating Doctors Doctors Without Borders Royal Geographical Society Action Challenge GapForce Each organisation will have different aims, clients, resources and responsibilities so pick one that suits you. Have fun and feel free to post any question below.
Dr Rachel Saunders
almost 8 years ago
This image shows the cardinal sign of a perforated abdominal viscus. There is air under the diaphragm indicating air within the peritoneal cavity which can occur from a perforated abdominal viscus, following a laparoscopic abdominal procedure (where air is pumped into the peritoneal cavity to improve the views) and after more obscure events such as vigorous waterskiing in a female. When this appearance is seen it should be treated as a surgical emergency until proved otherwise.
about 11 years ago
By Genevieve Yates One reason why I chose to do medicine was that I didn’t always trust doctors – another being access to an endless supply of jelly beans. My mistrust stemmed from my family’s unfortunate collection of medical misadventures: Grandpa’s misdiagnosed and ultimately fatal cryptococcal meningitis, my brother’s missed L4/L5 fracture, Dad’s iatrogenic brachial plexus injury and the stuffing-up of my radius and ulna fractures, to name a few. I had this naïve idea that my becoming a doctor would allow me to be more in charge of the health of myself and my family. When I discovered that doctors were actively discouraged from treating themselves, their loved ones and their mothers-in-law, and that a medical degree did not come with a lifetime supply of free jelly beans, I felt cheated. I got over the jelly bean disappointment quickly – after all, the allure of artificially coloured and flavoured gelatinous sugar lumps was far less strong at age 25 than it was at age 5 – but the Medical Board’s position regarding self-treatment took a lot longer to swallow. Over the years I’ve come to understand why guidelines exist regarding treating oneself and one’s family, as well as close colleagues, staff and friends. Lack of objectivity is not the only problem. Often these types of consults occur in informal settings and do not involve adequate history taking, examination or note-making. They can start innocently enough but have the potential to run into serious ethical and legal minefields. I’ve come to realise that, like having an affair with your boss or lending your unreliable friend thousands of dollars to buy a car, treating family, friends and staff is a pitfall best avoided. Although we’ve all heard that “A physician who heals himself has an idiot for a doctor and a fool for a patient”, large numbers of us still self-treat. I recently conducted a self-care session with about thirty very experienced GP supervisors whose average age was around fifty. When asked for a show of hands as to how many had his/her own doctor, about half the group confidently raised their hands. I then asked these to lower their hands if their nominated doctor was a spouse, parent, practice partner or themselves. At least half the hands went down. When asked if they’d seek medical attention if they were significantly unwell, several of the remainder said, “I don’t get sick,” and one said, “Of course I’d see a doctor – I’d look in the mirror.” Us girls are a bit more likely to seek medical assistance than the blokes (after all, it is pretty difficult to do your own PAP smear – believe me, I’ve tried), but neither gender group can be held up as a shining example of responsible, compliant patients. It seems very much a case of “Do as I say, not do as I do”. I wonder how much of this is due to the rigorous “breed ’em tough” campaigns we’ve been endured from the earliest days of our medical careers. I recall when one of my fellow interns asked to finish her DEM shift twenty minutes early so that she could go to the doctor. Her supervising senior registrar refused her request and told her, “Routine appointments need to be made outside shift hours. If you are sick enough to be off work, you should be here as a patient.” My friend explained that this was neither routine, nor a life-threatening emergency, but that she thought she had a urinary tract infection. She was instructed to cancel her appointment, dipstick her own urine, take some antibiotics out of the DEM supply cupboard and get back to work. “You’re a doctor now; get your priorities right and start acting like one” was the parting message. Through my work in medical education, I’ve had the opportunity to talk to several groups of junior doctors about self-care issues and the reasons for imposing boundaries on whom they treat, hopefully encouraging to them to establish good habits while they are young and impressionable. I try to practise what I preach: I see my doctor semi-regularly and have a I’d-like-to-help-you-but-I’m-not-in-a-position-to-do-so mantra down pat. I’ve used this speech many times to my advantage, such as when I’ve been asked to look at great-aunt Betty’s ulcerated toe at the family Christmas get-together, and to write a medical certificate and antibiotic script for a whingey boyfriend with a man-cold. The message is usually understood but the reasons behind it aren’t always so. My niece once announced knowledgably, “Doctors don’t treat family because it’s too hard to make them pay the proper fee.” This young lady wants to be a doctor when she grows up, but must have different reasons than I did at her age. She doesn’t even like jelly beans! Genevieve Yates is an Australian GP, medical educator, medico-legal presenter and writer. You can read more of her work at http://genevieveyates.com/
Dr Genevieve Yates
about 7 years ago
A powerpoint covering Emergency Presentations. A lot of this is from the Oxford Handbook of clinical medicine or clinical knowledge summaries. I figure this stuff is something we should be able to rattle it off for clinical finals. I must credit my slide on shock to DrCrunch. Visit his site (drcrunch.co.uk) and follow him on twitter/facebook/youtube. There's a youtube video where he actually talks through the pacman diagram. I felt it was a brilliant way of explaining shock so put it in there! All images are off google.
over 7 years ago
Knee injuries are common and of emergency appartment acute injury admissions, the knee is the joint most often affected. This talk focuses on the injuries most often experienced by professional sportsmen. It provides an interesting environment from which to learn about injuries we are all likely to see if we work in A+E. The talk covers knee anatomy, common signs and symptoms of knee injuries, how to examine the knee and general management of the injuries.
almost 10 years ago
I completed this article in collaboration with a senor registrar whilst studying as an undergraduate medical student in Dundee. This article outlines the proposed introduction of a technique that employs ultrasound to visualise the femoral nerve whilst performing a femoral nerve block. This procedure is performed on patients in both the emergency dept and surgical theatres. Traditionally this procedure has been performed using a 'blind technique' which has an increased association with side effects including inadvertent damage to local structures and systemic toxicity related to local anaesthetic. In the article we give a brief outline of both the the traditional and ultrasound guided techniques and allow readers to understand the benefits of using the proposed technique. We believe that this article will be of great interest to senior medical student and junior doctors who are interested in careers in emergency medicine and anaesthesia. This
over 8 years ago