Rhubarb 2020

ST EDWARD’S r h u b a r b

The Junior Doctor

placed on an emergency Covid rota and both the shift pattern and working in restricted areas underneath layers of sweaty plastic aprons, gloves and masks was gruelling. A mask perpetually hid my reassuring smiles from scared patients. However that was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil. Despite the best medical care, people were dying in impressive numbers every day right in front of our shielded eyes. Covid claimed the lives of several colleagues. It was, frankly, terrifying. By far the most difficult and most important part of my job became updating families every day. I cannot fathom how painful it must have been for people not to be allowed to visit a critically ill loved one, and it was a privilege and an honour to have been able to represent them. The kindness of strangers, both to me

By Dr Camilla English (K, 2006-2011) MB BCh BAO, BSc (Hons) 

Camilla English left Teddies in 2011 and qualified as a doctor in 2019. She gives a fascinating account of her first year as a doctor and the impact Covid-19 had on her both professionally and personally. No matter how hard they try to manage your expectations at medical school, nothing can prepare you for the day when you actually start working as a doctor. After a grand total of 22 years in education, it was finally my turn: Dr English. I was to start on Medicine in a district hospital in the south east of England. My first day on the ward, I remember vividly feeling both terrified and thrilled by the huge responsibilities I had suddenly taken on. The first few weeks were a strange dichotomy of asking probably ridiculous questions, not knowing where anything was and trying to make all of the nurses fall in love with me (if you don’t have a friend amongst the nurses as a junior doctor, God help you), while also having the authority to make important decisions and prescribe scary medications. Those weeks were also full of firsts, from prescribing paracetamol to managing critically unwell patients with

O S E I N T E R V I E W

personally and to the wider NHS, has been amazing. I was so overwhelmed that I sobbed when the first NHS clap happened. I’m sure I’m no hero, but the efforts of the NHS as an institution have been heroic. I have no doubt I am a different doctor than I would have been without the additional challenges a pandemic posed, and I have come a very long way in 12 months. I have grown more than I ever imagined in so many ways. I helped to coordinate an in-hospital wedding for a 38-year-old patient of mine

everything from sepsis to strokes, heart attacks and seizures. Just as I felt like I had got the hang of things, my first rotation ended and I moved to general surgery. The cycle of firsts started all over again, however this time I had a new sense of confidence. I knew now to expect to be disappointed with myself when I couldn’t offer patients or nurses the answers they expected, but I had also learned to be proud of the care I could provide

I had no induction, no formal introductions and certainly no instruction manual. I was placed on an emergency Covid rota and both the shift pattern and working in restricted areas underneath layers of sweaty plastic aprons, gloves and masks was gruelling

and the knowledge I did have. I knew my strengths but was also aware of my limitations and what I needed to work on as a clinical professional. I was no longer just winging it. I decided I wanted to be a surgeon. Then the rumours started: “Have you heard about this “killer virus” in China?”. At the start, all I could think was “this had better not ruin my ski holiday” (in fairness, it didn’t!). I now feel immense guilt at that thought having crossed my mind. Instead of rotating as planned in April, when Covid-19 hit I was taken away from surgery on a Friday and on Sunday started working in the high-dependency Covid unit. I had no induction, no formal introductions and certainly no instruction manual. I was

who was terminally ill with cancer, I have been threatened by patients and their families, I have watched hearts break as I told families devastating diagnoses, and I have helped to save thousands of lives. I have laughed until I cried and I have cried until I laughed, and I have worked with some incredible people. By far the most important lesson I will take with me is that often the most helpful thing I can do for someone is to kneel at their bedside, hold their hand and simply be there for them when they are at their most vulnerable. Despite the near- overwhelming challenges I faced on a daily basis, I have fallen head over heels in love with being a doctor, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for my career.

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