Friday, June 30, 2006

The exam’s over!

So! It turns out that life can be pretty demanding on one's time, and I don't have hours on end to play 'top blogger'! I think I last wrote about cramming madly for the Primary FRCA exam, back in April. Good grief, what a roller coaster ride. The exam revision was gruelling on all involved, myself, Rachel, my close family, my friends (OK, so I'm not sure if they didn't secretly enjoy being left alone ;-) ), but all together I hardly saw anyone other than at work, or during weekend viva practice sessions with my buddy Lloyd - yes, not the rabbit.


The longer it has been since the OSCE and viva day the easier I remember it being. No doubt if I'd failed, I'd remember the true horror. My first part to the exam (in London) started at 8.20am, so I had to travel down the day before. I decided it best to travel by train, as anyone knows, parking in central London is a big no-no! Trying to travel light however, I travelled in my super shiny new shoes. Therein lay my first mistake. I arrived in good time at St. Pancras station, and began the hike to my hotel. The first 250yds were OK, but soon after that I realised the sound coming from my feet must be leather on bone, because it certainly didn't feel like I had any heels left! I persevered, and arrived at the Holiday Inn Bloomsbury and was surprised by its smart interior. I hobbled over to the reception and told the lady my name. 'Hmmmm.... Ummmm... Are you sure you have a reservation?' OK, problem number 2. I had somehow managed to book a different Holiday Inn, on the internet, despite having clicked the 'Location/Map' link and making sure I had the right one. 'Oh, no sir, you have booked the Holiday Inn Bloomsbury Kings Cross. My heart sank, I'd just walked from there! She gave me a map and marked the spot where my new destination lay. After checking my pedal pulses and estimating blood loss as acceptable, I decided it prudent to get the Tube back to King's Cross station and walk from there. After more painstaking tiptoeing, and the sun beating down on me like a stranded desert man, I turned the corner before the X on the map. Where's the Holiday Inn? Ummmm... Oh dear, the clever woman has mismarked the map. From my vantage point I can see a Travelodge, and go in for help. 'Yes sir, your hotel is a good 3/4 mile down the road from here'. So I set off again, about to expire from dehydration and anaemia. Finally, the hotel looms down on me, and I check in without the energy to kick off.


Exam day went much more smoothly. My morning breakfast at the hotel was left half eaten, my nerves quivering. I arrived at the Royal College of Anaesthetists and went in. As is customary at medical exams, everyone is dressed well in suits (quite out of character for gasmen) reading textbooks, trying in vain to grasp that last insight into the innards of a laser, or how chest compliance is made up. I met a friendly chap by the name of Steve, who became my bosom buddy for the duration. Lloyd had already been through his OSCE/Vivas on the Monday, passing well, and being Friday he'd had chance to tell me the gruesome reality. He'd had Dr. Colin Pinnock for his Physiology viva - I'd chuckled, he was the main editor for our revision textbook "Fundamentals of Anaesthesia". It served me right, I walked into my Clinical/Physics viva, and the man there said "Good morning, I'm Dr. Pinnock. This other chap is Dr. Nicholas Hirsch." My heart sank, but at least the second viva was going to be from an unknown! It wasn't until after lunch when I spotted another well known textbook that Dr. Hirsch is the second named editor of 'A-Z'. Phew, I thanked whoever is in charge that I never knew!


The OSCE didn't start well either. My first station was an anatomy station, 'Tell me about the anatomy of this plastic sacrum'. Oh dear, I'd given it a cursory glance, but only knew about the bone, not any of the clinical detail surrounding it! It got better however, and as my confidence grew, the stations began to feel more normal, more comfortable. There was enough time to fit in a couple of pints before the results were out. I spotted my candidate number quickly on the pass list, and went over to the 'Winners' circle'. I call it that because those had passed were invited to have a glass of wine and a pat on the back with the examiners. It felt awkward to leave the sobbing failed, and be singled out for congratulations with the others. Luckily Steve, myself and the others from the pub had all passed. Thankfully, the alcohol numbed the still aching pains from my feet and I stumbled home via the station. I'm now in the process of tutoring the next batch of hopefuls from my hospital before the millions of minute details fall out of my head. Good luck everyone!

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