MEDICAL MATTERS:Selective amnesia makes us forget bad times, writes MUIRIS HOUSTON
I HAVE to admit to being partial to nostalgia. Those halcyon days of yore, when the summers were long and sunny, and life seemed so much simpler. Of course, it’s all a trick of the mind, which seems programmed to selectively magnify the good times and induce amnesia for the more difficult periods.
I am 25 years qualified this year, and so the last weekend in August saw a gathering of medics at Trinity College Dublin to mark the occasion. It wasn’t just our class but also those who had qualified in 1945, 1950 and so on in five- year cohorts.
It started with a symposium on the Friday, at which your columnist was the least academic speaker. It took place in the college’s anatomy department, which is tucked away at the back gate on the other side of the pavilion.
Now your humble scribe had a hard time with anatomy as a medical student. You see I don’t do 3D. The part of my brain that is supposed to deal with spatial relationships either never developed or else withered away shortly after birth.
All of which made anatomy a huge challenge; the relationships between muscles, blood vessels and nerves were there in front of me, but I could never form a ready mental image of the various connections and interrelationships.
Anatomy assessments were carried out on a continuous basis. They took the form of “spot” examinations, in which about 10 stations were set up in the examination room.
A bell rang every five minutes or so and you moved from one anatomical exhibit to the next, answering a series of questions at each. The exam was held in the morning and you discovered your fate in the afternoon. Results were posted in a window to the left of the main department entrance; a prominent red marker divided those who had achieved a pass mark from those who failed.
Walking towards the anatomy department for the first time in almost 30 years was a strange experience. Even though I was relaxed about the forthcoming talk, I could feel a certain tightening of my neck muscles and an occasional palpitation as I approached the results window.
Having spent the best part of two years hovering on either side of that red line (and never clearing the bar by much), some deep-seated Pavlovian response reactivated. My selective amnesia disappeared and for a few moments I was transported back to some difficult memories.
Of course, once I entered the department and was welcomed by the staff, the feeling was gone. It’s nice to see a place that has changed little; the purpose-built teaching area was as I remembered it.
It hadn’t lost its hallowed air with the hushed reverence that is appropriate to a setting where human bodies are laid out for dissection. And it was a special moment to approach the lectern and look up at the steep and serried rows of seats in the lecture theatre – the very same ones I had sat in for two years of my early student life.
Later, it was a joy to meet up with classmates and other graduates at the formal dinner in the Dining Hall. More time for reminisces – warm memories with which to feed the hunger of nostalgia.
Now it’s the turn of the latest generation of medical students. And to judge by the Trinity Student Medical Journal (which didn’t exist in my time) what an enterprising lot they are. The latest edition has high-quality articles on topics ranging from Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy, the “Broken Heart Syndrome”, to the surgical treatment of intractable trigeminal neuralgia.
Students are active in original research too; I found a study by Jessie Elliott into the effect of cardiac rehabilitation duration on reducing future cardiac risk most interesting. The third-year student concludes that short duration programmes would increase patient participation as well as reducing the cost of current hospital-based rehab for those who have recently suffered heart attacks or required bypass procedures for coronary heart disease.
I hope the current crop of students experience the same warm feelings as I did when it is their turn to follow the path “down memory lane”.