the many faces of med students: the one you eventually fall for.

It’s bound to happen. Spending ten hour days with the same people over and over and over again—you start seeing them differently. Some will have tiny quirks that eventually drive you mad, while you’ll inevitably warm up to others a little too much. There won’t be any distinct turning point; one day there won’t be any awkward feelings, and the next—the next day there is and you can’t get rid of them.

So, what do you do? Do you bite the metaphorical bullet and take a leap of faith, or do you stay quiet and hope that, when you’re no longer spending so much time with the object of your affection, that they simply dissipate as suddenly as they arrived? Or better yet, do you run to the nearest physiotherapist/nurse/pharmacist/consultant/senior medical student and convince yourself that you could never have feelings for a colleague because there are just so many other, more attractive, people in the hospital?

Just remember: for every Elliot and JD, there’s a George and Izzy.

the many faces of med students: the sharply dressed one.

Seven-thirty am ward rounds. The perfect excuse to rock up to hospital bleary-eyed and in your least formal formal clothing, all while clutching a cup of coffee to your chest and praying that you remembered to brush your hair and your teeth before leaving for the hospital.

Unless you’re the sharply dressed med student that always (regardless of time, place, or rotation) makes sure that they’re properly attired in the most stylish clothing. This med student is also particularly coordinated (because what’s the point in looking good if you’re just going to get sprayed with various bodily fluids, or spill hot chocolate all down your front?). They’re the epitome of “dress to impress” and yes, we’re just jealous that even after spending an hour in the mirror, we’re still not as stylish as the sharply dressed one.

the many faces of med students: the highlighter addict

Her lecture notes are enough to induce an epileptic fit, they’re that colourful. And every single word on the page is highlighted—in three colours, no less. Instead of a pen, she carries around her favourite highlighter attached proudly to her ID badge. Her love affair with the adorable doesn’t cease with raindow-adorned papers, though—her list contains smiley faces next to her favourite patients, and her exclamation marks are dotted with love hearts.

As lame as it may be, the highlighter addict brightens up everyone’s day, literally and metaphorically. After all, there’s no problem that fluorescent colours can’t solve.

the many faces of med students: the proactive one.

Ward rounds are over, and you’re studying in the common room (read: surfing YouTube and watching parodies that aren’t really contributing to your studies at all). Do you know who isn’t in the common room? The proactive one. They’re off clerking patients, cannulating patients, catheterising patients, or, if nothing else, they’re actually studying (most likely in the library, away from the internet). They have boundless energy and a complete, enduring love for medicine, and they want nothing more than to be the best doctor ever.

The proactive med student is rather admirable, really. And they’re going to be top of the class come clinical exam time.

many faces of med students: the future psychiatrist.

“So, how does that make you feel?”

“I’m really worried about X, he seems stressed/angry/depressed/anxious/psychotic/adjective-of-your-choice here.”

“Have you noticed Y lately? She seems to be rather down and with the circumstances…”

If you’ve heard these statements floating around the common room, chances are that you’ve encountered the future psychiatrist. While peering over the DSM-IV (ignore the fact that she’s on a surgical rotation), she’ll comment on the emotions of any patient, student or supervisor that she sees, and can recite anti-depressants and anti-psychotics from memory (but none of the muscles of the body, or common cardiac condition, or how to conduct an endocrine examination), all while inventing instances of mental illness within her peer group. Every movement of yours will be scrutinised and over-analysed while she’s around, and she’ll have a diagnosis ready for you within minutes.

But it doesn’t matter. We all know that psychiatrists aren’t real doctors.

the many faces of med students: the inevitable surgeon.

The inevitable surgeon is so stereotypical it hurts. He will almost always be found in scrubs, and he’ll pass of his feats as no big deal—that central line was nothing. Closed an abdomen? No big deal. He’ll still expect you to be in awe though. In his eyes, every rotation is boring compared to the adrenaline of acute care; in fact, he’ll skip his other rotations to spend more time scrubbed in theatre. And don’t expect him to share his opportunities—he won’t tell you how he managed to convince a consultant to let him suture in his first week.

In the world of qualified doctors, he’s proactive. In med school, he’s just arrogant.

the many faces of med students: the theatre junkie.

Forget drugs, caffeine, and cigarettes—this student gets high on the thrill of sutures and scalpels. They’ll strut around in their scrubs all day, and no matter how many times they’re given the opportunity to leave theatre, they’ll stick it out, watching the surgeons weave their magic and hoping for the chance to scrub up and hold retractors—isn’t that what life is all about?

And anyway, let’s be honest. Scrubs are far more comfortable than professional attire, even if they’re not very flattering.

the many faces of med students: the one who never sleeps.

Ask her how many hours she got last night. Or when she actually went to bed. Chances are, she probably didn’t get between the sheets before two, and somehow, she’s still on time for a seven-thirty ward round—in fact, she turns up half an hour early. And the really scary part? She stayed up late and was productive. None of this staying-up-late-because-she-was-watching-Friends or forgetting-to-sleep-because-she-was-too-busy-tumblring.

In the real world, she’s superwoman. In the medical world, that’s perfectly normal behaviour, and it means that intern year is going to be a breeze.

the many faces of med students: the quiet one.

She sits in the corner of tute rooms and follows consultants around on ward rounds, barely muttering a word unless spoken to first. You know she works, and you know that she knows something, but she’s always the last to proffer an answer, if she proffers one at all.

Maybe she’s shy. Maybe she’s scared. Or maybe she’s an introvert drowned out in a course of extroverts.

the many faces of med students: the one who knows everything.

In medicine, everyone but you is the one who knows everything.

The secret is, we all think we know nothing compared to everyone else. And the truth? We’re all going to make it somehow.