On the last day in the seventh completed week of my Paediatric rotation, I got a cold. Safe to say, I did well to accomplish twenty-seven days surrounded by snotty children without getting one until the final day, day twenty-eight. It was my first SAMP and yes, I chose to be surrounded by children, and what a rotation it has been. Amongst the many, many wheezers, I have seen some incredible, unique, and heart-breaking cases. I worked within the Royal Blackburn Hospital, a much larger facility than the Royal Lancaster Infirmary. There, I saw more depravity, safeguarding concerns, and cases of consanguinity and subsequent genetic deformities than I had ever seen before.

Thankfully, I was not defecated or vomited on a single time during my placement. I did, however, have bricks thrown at my head by a young boy with Autism, lose hearing in my left ear for an entire afternoon after a particularly unhappy boy screamed in it whilst I assisted with venipuncture, and witnessed one mischievous young girl smear a suspiciously brown substance all over the floor (which was later discovered to be chocolate ice cream – thank goodness).

While spending time in the Children’s department in Blackburn, I also ventured to the Neonatal department in Burnley. I saw assisted births and newborns struggling to take their first breaths. It was a mixture of health versus sickness; I examined fit babies but also tiny, premature neonates in their extraterrestrial looking incubators.

The two hardest parts of this rotation were:
a) Commuting every day and the nightmares of rush hour and,
b) Leaving – this was really quite sad.

This rotation was the first one where I actually felt part of a team, respected and appreciated. A place where everyone knew my name (and I wasn’t just ‘medical student’). Here, I could actually use my knowledge and skills to help patients and staff alike. I wasn’t just taking, I was able to give back.

So, here I am, first rotation down and my parents ask how am I finding fifth year compared to fourth? Well, the difference between the two is utterly incredible.

Fourth year was finals year, by far the most difficult of all five. There was more work demanding my time and my social life disintegrated into nothingness. This year has been bliss, so far. Our timetables are more flexible, we have less pressure yet more responsibility, and much more autonomy. Fifth year is the ideal time to explore the Lake District, actually do things with your friends (because group revision does not count as socialising), visit your family, try new things like dancing (shout-out to Lancs Salsa Soc), make your CVs ready for FY1 application (which admittedly comes much sooner than expected), and explore a few cities or countries, even. If you’re a fourth year already panicking about finals, I urge you to think of fifth year as your light at the end of the tunnel. You will love it; you just have a few hurdles to jump first.

 And so, with this piece of reflection work completed, (which took significantly less time to do than the 10,000 reflections needed for the Log Books), I will now enjoy a quick trip home and look forward to my next rotation in GP.

Cheska Ball – 5th Year Medical Student