Life in 1992

What was life like for medical students when the studentBMJ began in 1992? Mark Scoote, Rachel Hooke, and Sabina Dosani reminisce

pH and buffers

I was a fresher 10 years ago, having secured a place at Bart's Medical College, before it merged with neighbouring colleges. There were 105 of us in the year, a far cry from today's amalgamated schools. During the freshers' party and subsequent evening in the bar I met practically everyone in the college, something that I'm sure couldn't happen today.

We were marched into the lecture theatre to hear a welcoming address from the dean and listened intently as we were informed about the responsibilities and privileges of being a medical student during a time of rapid technological advance and change. As we soon found out, change was already occurring in the way the preclinical curriculum was taught. Gone were the traditional disciplines, replaced instead by modules based on an integrated systems approach and new trendy subjects such as communication skills, ethics, and psychology. Despite this our first lecture, "pH and buffers," seemed as far removed from training to be a doctor as it was possible to get.

Living in college halls was excellent; all the students in the year were together and the halls were above the bar, making it the focal point of college life. It cost £30 (¤48; $47) a week to live in and a travel card to get to lectures cost £35 a month (the equivalent is £74 today). I received a full maintenance grant of £1500 per term and took out my yearly entitlement of student loan, which amounted to £830. Paying for tuition fees was never on the agenda, and was something only overseas students had to contend with. With the enormous burden of debt that students face today, I am forever thankful that I got through the system when I did. Unless things change for the better, I don't think life at medical school can ever be as good again as it was 10 years ago. I'll be advising my children to be lawyers, not doctors, that's for sure.

Driving the minibus

I remember 1992 very clearly. In October 1992, I had begun my fourth year with a general practice attachment; general practice was what I wanted to do in life. Originally, I had been told that I would be going to a surgery a few miles from my residence to which I would be able to cycle. Then I was told that because of an unforeseen problem, I would have to travel to another town about 15 miles away, an expensive and time consuming daily train journey. That was back in the days of British Rail, when all the trains were blue. Students had grants then (in conjunction with loans), but I could not get any extra help towards my travel expenses.

I had two part time jobs that year. One was tagging and summarising the records at a local general practitioner's surgery. The other was driving the student minibus; I found both of them worthwhile and fulfilling in different ways. At the surgery, I was learning about how patients presented to their general practitioner--I was not meant to read the whole record, but I did read the interesting ones. Driving the minibus taught me how to deal with difficult people, particularly drunk peers. It was something I managed well, although at the beginning of the year, I would not have thought myself capable. My life is different now, but at this time of year, I often think back on such halcyon days.

Youthful excess

The birth of the studentBMJ coincided with my arrival as a medical student at Bart's in 1992. The excitement of getting into medical school was quickly tempered by two years of preclinical basic sciences. During those years in particular, I looked forward to my studentBMJ arriving because here was the stuff I had come to study--surgery, electrocardiographs, diseases, cures, and patients. Here were articles by students who were actually seeing patients. As I agonised over anatomy, it gave me hope.

The studentBMJ remained a faithful bedfellow during my clinical rotations. First patient? First delivery? New style exams? First cardiac arrest? Someone had written about all of these and other pertinent issues. We were never alone.

When I started medical school, we were among the first to study a new "systems based" curriculum. I returned to my medical school last month to talk about medical writing, as part of a special study module. Eight years ago, the studentBMJ provided me an entry into medical writing as I wrote up a period of study abroad, and "Changing Places: From London to Berlin" made it to the life section.

When I returned to Bart's to teach last month, I realised how many hours of preparation are needed for one short talk. Even though I was lucky because everyone turned up, I can empathise with friends who feel dispirited when only half the class attends their lecture. But my real empathy lies with the skivers. The lure of London's art galleries, fringe theatre, markets, museums, and nightlife kept me out of many preclinical lectures. My mind broadening excursions were often followed by midweek lie ins with coffee, the Soundings column, and Minerva. I feel I ought to now regret the excesses of my youth, and warn future generations of medical students to study to the exclusion of all else. I have become a happy well rounded doctor; I have no regrets. StudentBMJ filled some important gaps in my education, inspired further reading, and often motivated me to go and experience medicine at first hand.

Sabina Dosani, locum specialist registrar in psychiatry, London


studentBMJ 2002;10:397-440 November ISSN 0966-6494