Of all the interview stations I had for medicine, I remember one very clearly. I was asked to pick out three traits that I believed would make a good doctor. I remember choosing cards on teamwork, courage, and resilience, proudly explaining each choice accordingly to the examiner.

The examiner then picked out a card I hadn’t chosen – and put it down in front of me. She asked me to explain why I hadn’t included that particular card in my original choice.

Panicking, I looked down at the card, which read “swift decision making”. My first thought, was that I had made a mistake, and performed the unexpected by not choosing that card. However, very swiftly, I thought of a genuine response; I told the examiner that whilst decision-making skills are crucial in medicine, not all swift decisions are right decisions.

I have thought about that comment a lot throughout the past few years of medical school, and silently debated whether I still stand by that comment. From the outside, medicine seems to respect conservation of time; this is shown by the merit placed upon rapid fire questioning of students by many doctors, and indeed the rapid life-or-death procedures that are performed in the resuscitation bay to save the lives of acutely unwell people.

This past week, I had the opportunity to discuss a scenario which showed me why quick decisions don’t always lead to the best outcomes. This was the scenario:

A paediatric consultant received a phone call to say that there had been an error in the prescribing of a medication, and whilst the child was okay, he had to explain the situation to the child’s parents. 

The child had become acutely unwell, and one of the junior doctors had prescribed medication to help alleviate the symptoms. However, in haste, the incorrect dose was requested. The junior doctor apologised to the parents, and along with the consultant, explained how the mistake had occurred. Thankfully, the error was not life-threatening; all that was needed was extra monitoring of the child.

Discussing this scenario made me realise the impact that mistakes can have on patients and their families. For this family, the price would be a sleepless night. For others, it could be more than that. Thinking about it had a great impact on me; I put myself in the junior doctor’s shoes – I thought about how I would feel if the scenario was real and the mistake was mine.

I must admit that at times, I would find myself envious of my peers and mentors for their speed and efficiency – I don’t seem to be as gifted in the art of rapid-fire questions. I always believed that this would also be a reflection on my ability to handle stressful, acute situations, however I seem to work well under pressure, and I find myself most enjoying busy assessment unit placements. I thought about this also – how can I be good in one situation and not the other?

The answer, I believe, lies in the difference between making a decision in haste, and making a decision promptly. These may sound similar, but the distinction lies in the extra 10 seconds it takes to consider the further outcome of your decision. Sometimes, you may stop to think, and realise that your first decision was correct. However, there may be a time that those extra 10 seconds help you realise you are making a mistake. The delay may be priceless, particularly for your patient.

I think that I am now more comfortable with the fact that I spend an extra 10 seconds thinking about things, even though it means that I appear to be less “sharp” than some of my peers. I am also hoping that with experience, 10 seconds becomes 5 seconds, then 3 seconds, and so on, until the pause is no longer noticeable. I have a feeling it will always be there though, acting like a safety net for a fallible mind.

If a momentary pause means coming up with a better answer, or solution to a problem, then I’m never going to regret it. After all, the first decision isn’t always the best decision, is it?

I apologise for my brief hiatus from blogging – however, on the positive side, the reason for my absence is what formed this idea and this story.

You see, I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandparents in Iran. For those of you who don’t know, my parents are, for the most part, originally Iranian. In fact, I was born in Tehran, however I’ve spent most of my meaningful existence in the place I now call home; England.

I may be biased, but Iran is a very beautiful country. It has a very rich heritage and is a wonderfully cultured place, with scorching summers and the whitest winters. You can see the history bursting out along every pavement and every dated building.

Now as I say all this – I’m not ignorant of the political dynamics that have run alongside this history, but what is absolutely incredible is that regardless of the anthropological influence, the traditions have remained cemented and continue to be passed along generations.

I understand that many people have a certain degree of apprehension when it comes to visiting a country that is so vastly different to places they are more familiar with, but I encourage you to visit if you get the chance – you won’t regret it!

My perspective, though, is perhaps a little different from yours. I am the child of Iranian parents, and I have family in Iran. Therefore, I am not treated like a tourist would be – there are assumptions made about me understanding the culture and traditions, being able to speak the language, and engage appropriately with people in Iran. Whilst some of these assumptions are fulfilled by what my mother has taught me growing up (like being able to speak fluently), some of these ideas were and are absolutely alien to me.

Sometimes, I felt like an imposter; I looked Iranian, I spoke Farsi, yet I still didn’t understand what people were talking about. I didn’t have the same perspectives as them on a lot of subjects, and I sometimes, I struggled to understand their viewpoints, laugh at their jokes, or share their sentiments.

And this is where the idea for writing this came from. I am certainly not the only British/[insert another nationality] child to have grown up in the UK and yet still have ties with their parents’ country of origin. However the experience I’m documenting here is something I feel that only children born in my situation may understand. How do we ensure that connection, to people vastly different to us, doesn’t fizzle out simply because of Geography?

This is something I am hoping I can work out, because although being Iranian isn’t the reigning part of my identity, it is still my identity, and it will be my children’s identity also. Whilst I am more comfortable in the presence of British culture, I still go home to Ghormeh Sabzi and rice. I don’t want to forget about such a large chunk of my heritage, but more importantly I want my future family to understand where they (partly) came from.

I’ll let you know if or when I figure it out. Until then, just know that I’m proud of being a culturally mixed child.

I have a few tools at my disposal when I’m feeling bored, tired or under-the-weather; things that make me feel better, things that metaphorically hold my hand. Eating my body weight in crinkle-cut crisps and watching Netflix are two commonly used methods, and so is reading.

I have been an avid reader for as long as I can remember. In fact, I probably fell in love with it the moment I learned how to read. These days, most of the things I read are related to the body and all of it’s wonderful functions. However, in the summer, I like to pick up something that isn’t size eight font, basically latin, or made up of ridiculous abbreviations.

Last week, I ended up in Waterstones (completely by accident, of course) and I picked up some reads for the summer, so I thought I would share them. Let me know what you think!

The Girls – Emma Cline (Vintage): The Girls is a coming-of-age novel about a teenage girl called Evie. After meeting three elusive girls in the park, Evie is essentially pulled into a crowd…but not a good one. Shrouded in mystery, this isn’t a typical story of youth misadventure, as years later, there are still secrets being kept about the summer of 1969.

This book is really interesting because it is written from Evie’s perspective, but at different points in time, so the reader can experience her perceptions as a child and an adult.

Vinegar Girl – Anne Tyler (Vintage): Vinegar Girl is about Kate, a young woman who is stuck in a rut, looking after her family and running their home. She is roped in by her eccentric, scientist father, to help him stop his star lab assistant being deported from the UK, and soon, she ends up more involved than she ever imagined.

Vinegar Girl has been praised for its light and humorous storyline, so I am extremely excited for this one. I think I will take it away with me!

The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood (Vintage): The Handmaid’s Tale is about a dystopian, enclosed republic where females are responsible solely for reproducing. Objection leads to arrest, public hanging, or banishment from the republic. The story is centred around Offred, a young girl living in the republic, who soon realises she can’t live like others.

The Handmaid’s Tale has recently been turned into a TV series, however I feel like I might read the book before I watch the series.

The Power – Naomi Alderman (Penguin): I suppose you could say that The Power is the exact opposite to The Handmaid’s Tale – women everywhere are suddenly finding that they have the power to control men – with a click of their fingers, they can inflict pain, and even death, on the males of world. On the face of it, the powers seem exhilarating and incredible, but it isn’t clear where it will end.

Truly Madly Guilty – Liane Moriarty (Penguin): Truly Madly Guilty is another signature piece by Liane Moriarty. It all begins with one evening and a barbecue, but from what I gather, it definitely doesn’t end there. As well as strained relationships, and the death of an innocent person, the story is packed with suspense and plenty of secrets.

If you’ve read The Husband’s Secret or in fact, any of her books, there is apparently a good chance you will enjoy this.

The Dry – Jane Harper (Abacus): The Dry is a murder mystery, set in a small, drought-stricken town in Australia. After a family are brutally murdered, everyone thinks it was a domestic murder-suicide. However, when policeman Aaron Falk returns to his childhood home for the funeral, he unwittingly begins to uncover what really happened to the family.

Death at Wolf’s Nick – Diane Janes (Mirror Books): Death at Wolf’s Nick is about a cold case – a murder that took place in rural Northumberland in 1981. The book reviews all the evidence and along with more information, pieces together the events of the tragic night.

This was an unusual buy for me – Death at Wolf’s Nick is a non-fiction book. I gravitated towards it because on that day, it just so happened that the author herself was doing a book signing and after speaking to her, I was interested to read about the case.

Also, while I’m here, a little shameless plug for Waterstones: I know many people tend to buy books online, but they really do have some great deals there. I bought all of the books above on offer, and new publishings are usually always on offer in the bookstore. Whilst I love internet shopping, I guess I just like supporting a bookshop and its environment rather than buying books from the web. Not to mention the fact that they have great customer service, and make some amazing recommendations if you’re stuck on what to pick up.

That’s it from me! I should be kept super busy with all these amazing reads.

Until next time,

Fatz x

 

 

 

I thought the best way to kick things off again would be to re-introduce you to my little corner of the internet. Welcome back to my blog!

Mending the Medic is my space to write about what goes through my head, whether they are things that I love to talk about….or things I don’t (but are important).

The goal of this blog is to express myself, and share my very ordinary life with the world. A lot of what I talk about will be life-related, however I am partial to a good book or TV series so there will also be posts that aren’t  deeper than the deep blue sea. Mostly, I just want to talk about how I deal with bumps in the road, and the things I learn from my experiences.

If you think it all sounds interesting and would like to continue reading, I would appreciate you following via email/wordpress/twitter for updates.

Much love, Fatz

I’m writing this in my final hour of being 18. It is currently 11pm on the 27th of April 2016 and I won’t be 18 come midnight…sigh. To celebrate this horrendous occasion, I’m going to share 18 important things I’ve learned through surviving 18 years of life!

1. There will always be somebody, somewhere who thinks you are ugly

This is a sad fact but the sooner we accept that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, the sooner we can move on from those marginally brutal comments made by your neighbour’s elderly mum about how “Girls of today are no longer slender” etc. etc.

2. Don’t straighten your hair everyday

The beauty of sleek, straight hair isn’t worth it when 6 months down the line, each hair strand has 5 little ends to it. Turns out the para-cortex doesn’t much appreciate the daily tampering.

3. You can only do your very best

There is no point in being upset because you can’t unicycle in pointe shoes or sing The Flower Duet from Lakme. At the end of the day, if you’ve given it all you’ve got, there is no reason why you or anyone else should demand more.

4. Don’t cook everything on maximum heat

There were 2 incidents in my university flat this year where maximum heat nearly killed us all. Apart from being very embarrassing when your flatmate uploads a picture of your chargrilled cookies, it’s a bit of a waste and a “health and safety hazard” (whatever that means). On the bright side, those cookies are now our flat family heirloom.

5. Be accepting of other people and the choices they make

We had this discussion with one of my best friend’s mums. It’s hard to appreciate or compliment something that you don’t personally agree with – in this case, we were talking about tattoos. You have to remember though, Gina from down the road wouldn’t have gotten her new piercing if she didn’t like it. Complimenting something she’s proud of doesn’t make you pro-piercing, it makes you kind.

6. Try your best to reach out to people

One of the most amazing ladies I’ve met this year lives above me at university. The only reason she is now part of my life, is because one night, after hearing her cry on the phone to somebody, (our walls/floors/ceilings are like paper) I popped a note under her flat door and told her that I was downstairs if she ever wanted to talk. I’m so glad I shoved that little scrap paper under her flat door, because she’s absolutely lovely.

7. Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent

This is my favourite quote; it’s from Eleanor Roosevelt. No explanation required – you don’t need that shit in your life! Cut them out like you rip off a Biore pore strip.

8. Wear what you want, when you want, unless it’s illegal

Life is too short to worry about what other people will think of that orange aztec print cold-shoulder top you secretly fell in love with at the weekend in Town. If you would want to see it on other people, buy it and put it on. You go Glen Coco.

9. Make sure you keep the segments of your life balanced

This is something that really let me down during my A Level exams. Your mental state, your eating and your sleeping are just as important, if not more, than that extra chemical equation you are trying to cram. Being exhausted means you can’t function – you are no use in an exam like that.

10. Don’t get hung up on a single event or a single day

I for one, have this bad habit of replaying emotionally strenuous events in my head over and over again. If you’re speaking about it now though, remember; it has already happened. It is gone. Poof. BYE.

11. Save some money up!

Seriously being penniless sounds much more appealing than it actually is. University especially, is hard enough, without you having to survive on canned meatballs and UHT milk.

12. Being kind is important

Even the smallest act of kindness can make someone’s life better. I for one, don’t have much to give, but even your time/support/helping hand will be priceless in the eyes of the person who needed it.

13. Ironing is a difficult skill to master

I realised this, when I was 45 minutes behind schedule getting ready for the Christmas ball, and I melted the bottom of my navy blue, full length dress. I promptly decided to get a few pointers from Dad, because for the 17 or so years he ironed my clothes, they never ended up like that.

14. Chill…a tiny bit

It’s really easy to get really riled up about something but the only person that ends up getting emotional, whether that’s sad, or angry, or teary, is you. Your emotions are worth more.

15. Blogging is a great vent

If you like speaking, but nobody listens anymore, blogging is your number one star solution. Pop your details in, add some colour, and get typing.

16. Never forget those important people

It’s easy to forget who it was that helped pull you up from rock bottom, but if they were there at your hour of greatest need, they are special, and you should always remember how much you owe your successes to them.

17. Educating yourself is vital

I don’t just mean this in a traditional sense, although I do value academia myself. It’s important to arm yourself with knowledge about the world around you. You are a person, and at least in this country, you pretty much get a choice in everything. It’s a real shame when people overlook their right to contribute to things that affect all of us. Learn about your politics, learn about your taxes, learn about your economy, people!

18. Ice-cream is a gift from the gods

Ice-cream, is better than any human could ever be. It is always there when you need a shoulder (or tub) to cry on. Ice-cream will never let you down, turn around, or dessert you. (GET IT?!)

I know people say this all the time but I genuinely can’t believe 2015 is gone. It was such an emotional rollercoaster for me; some terrible things happened. What is extremely surprising is that I’ve come out of the past year even more a dreamer and even less a pessimist. You might argue that this is entirely the opposite of an expected reaction to pain, loss and sadness, and actually, until recently, I probably would have agreed with you. Not any more though. Sorry.

When you conquer the things that are holding you back, you realise that life holds very few true limits, and there are so many opportunities within your reach. Those self-forged ceilings can be raised or even broken. The emotions that come with new-found freedom? Optimism. Hope. Belief.

The thing is, time does actually fly, and as someone who has spent many years living in a little self-perpetuated cardboard box, I can tell you that it’s hard to see the value of time when you’re sad, lost or feeling lonely. Suddenly, weeks of self-limiting become months of self-limiting; even years of self-limiting, and the Bank of Time doesn’t care if you regret the way you spent yours.

Personally, my newest goal is to climb every mountain that I really truly want to, whether it is emotional or physical. I want to get the most out of my time on this little rock.

Even when you leave the box, there is always a temptation to return to your comfort zone. Life is easier when you order the same meal, or drive the same route, or work in the same profession. My question is, is it more interesting?

 

I have to thank one of my good friends for putting this question out into my world; he is infinitely more perceptive than me. Whilst deep into one of our many Facebook conversations he put forward an idea that really, truly made me think.

You see, he asked me, what my purpose was in living. What reason, or small list of reasons, was keeping me focused on life. What do I want to achieve in my short lifetime? My “Bucket List”. My friend is a very honest person, and he said that after he thought about it, he came to the conclusion that he would want to live his life in a fulfilling way, enjoying each day, even though the easier option is to pick a sensible career and settle into its pattern, allowing this entity to shape his life.

This really struck a chord with me, because I remember what it felt like to not have a reason; to question my very existence. I guess my answer to this meaningful question is that I’ll only be content to die once I know that someone, somewhere in this world is living a better life because of something I did, or something I said. I understand that this is a rather far-fetched idea but it is the reason that has the greatest pull on me.

We live in a world where, sadly for a vast group of people, picking a university degree that pays its own ridiculous debt and the equally ridiculous mortgage afterwards is more important than completing their bucket list, but you see, picking a sensible degree doesn’t mean you are more likely to survive and live out your whole life. It doesn’t make you immune to the horrible tragedies that tear hundreds of families apart each day. Very sadly, this is highlighted in the new BBC programme ‘Before I Kick the Bucket’. Don’t get me wrong, the fact that we are fallible is no excuse to be a complete cabbage, but it is an excuse to do something that makes you happy, each and every day.

I wish we lived in a world where the people who possess life-changing ideas didn’t wake up in the morning and begrudgingly drive to their 9-5 office jobs, but hey, the only people who can change that are the people right here, on these streets, in these cities. Us.

WordPress started this blog post for me so I guess I better introduce myself properly. Hello, my name is Fatemeh, and I’m a newbie adult who has lived a somewhat difficult yet normal life so far (I reckon I might manage a few more decades). There is nothing extraordinary about my experiences; younger people have dealt with far greater problems than me. The only difference is that now I feel like I want to share them, just to see if I’m not the only one.

This small corner of the interweb is dedicated to my perspective of the world, and whilst my Dad can proudly say that he raised me to be very respectful of other peoples’ beliefs, I am not about to pretend, or shape my ideas to be more convenient and less thought-provoking. It may take me a while to write my posts and edit them because thoughts are not like words, and the translation is difficult. However, if you are one of the very first people to come across this page, hang on, and I promise that you will never read fabricated post here.