ARTISTS TALKING

# 41 [11 June 2010]

We're now just over half way through the SSC block, and it's difficult to remember a time when I wasn't commuting weekly to the Medical School.  The journey is judged nicely - no need to get up too early; feed chickens, feed cats, water tomatoes, check email & set off with an hour to spare (time allotted for lunch).  Arrive at 1.31 and pay for parking permit - this is valid for 4 hours and as parking is free after 5.30 and the penalty for not paying up to that time is horrendous, I don't fancy running the risk of a large fine for the sake of a a couple of minutes.....it has been known to happen, and stories circulate of the death and destruction visited upon transgressors. 

Then into the Medical School for a cup of tea at the refreshment bar and thence to the tutorials.  Half an hour or so spare for reading, or another cup of tea, and then into the Life Class. 

This week, the School has been setting up for something variously referred to as OSSIs or OSCIs.  My reading of John le Carré novels suggested that Ossis were East Germans, before the fall of the Berlin Wall, but somehow this didn't seem to be the right interpretation of the acronyms.  Turns out that it's what used to be known as "Clinicals", that is, examinations of students' clinical acumen using real patients.  Most of these "patients" are old hands, almost professionals, with a vast understanding of their medical conditions and a long experience of Clinicals.  They are often happy to drop broad hints about their diagnosis & treatment, although I did hear of one who replied persistently along the lines of "that's for you to find out".  The student endured this for an hour, and failed the exam.

Anyway, as a result of the OSSIs, all the examination couches had been removed from the room we use for life classes.  So: nowhere for the poor model to lie down.  But they had left us the chairs, so that was all right.

# 42 [17 June 2010]

Week 8 of 12.

The second block is about to finish, and the essays will be handed in on Friday.  Having marked them, I will also have the portfolios to assess, under the general heading "use of learning resources".  The marking proforma has one or two idiosyncracies:  everything is marked on a scale from 1 to 7, including Attendance.  A mark of 6 is in the "Honours" bracket, and 7 earns "Distinction".  One could fantasise about a student earning Honours for attendance, despite being hopeless at everything else.  Fortunately for the future of the Health Service, one or two other things are also taken into account (clinical competence, for example).

Our poor life model, who had a racking cough last week, was too ill to attend this week.  So, I modelled for a rather small class - although you will be relieved to know that I kept most of my clothes on.  As a consequence I am now totally exhausted, and seriously thinking of going to bed despite the glorious weather.

# 43 [18 June 2010]

A small disaster has struck (can you have such a thing as a small disaster?).  Having waited all day for two essays to be emailed to me, and beginning to think uncharitable thoughts about the non-emailers, I have discovered that the server I still use occasionally for medical-type emails has developed a glitch.  The error message reads:

"The xxxx e-mail service is temporarily unavailable. This may be due to a brief inter-server commmunication problem or a restart of services following system maintenance or upgrade." [ha ha... brief??? it's been off all day]

"The team will investigate the cause of this disruption and post an update if the outage [outage - good grief] is likely to be lengthy. Apologies for any inconvenience.  Further information may be available on the email update page." [it isn't] "Please click the back button of your browser to return to the previous page and try again in a few minutes."

So, an assessment of the use of illustration in educating the public about obesity, and a study of the work of Jenny Savile in relation to Body Dysmorphic Disorder, are floating about in the ether.  Fortunately I have a plan B, and another email address, but it is a bit irritating, to say the least.

It's now 10p.m., and still perfectly light outside, but a strange pink mist has descended.  I presume the rational explanation has something to do with a sudden drop in temperature, but have been watching Dr. Who on the iPlayer, and fear the worst.  An alien invasion is undoubtedly imminent, and I haven't marked those essays.

# 44 [24 June 2010]

The essays referred to on the last post (cue bugle music) have arrived and been marked.   The "portfolios" have been inspected and included in the assessment of "use of learning resources".  The last block has started, and the two new students are, I hope, up and running with their preliminary research - neuroanatomy imaging, and the work of Gunther von Hagens.  And hoorah! with three and a bit weeks to go, my University internet access has arrived.  Better late than never (I wonder how long it lasts for?)

And the best news is that our life model is better and back at work.

# 45 [8 July 2010]

Back from the Association of Medical Humanities conference in Truro - I arrived home at 1.30 a.m., way past my usual bedtime.  The conference closed a bit earlier than I expected, so I shelved my original plan to stay an extra night and travel home in a leisurely fashion during the daylight.  Unfortunately the bus to the railway station was late, and I ended up starting my seven-and-a-half hour train journey at a quarter to five in the evening.  Add to that the hour and a quarter to get home from the station at this end.....it was actually beginning to get light by the time I finally got to bed.  I am too old for this!!

The conference, however, was a really interesting experience and a chance to meet a great diversity of folk from all over the world.  Conferences are often huge and rather lonely events:  no-one talks to you, and if you don't already know some of the delegates, you end up not talking to anybody for days.  At Truro, by contrast, everyone talked to everyone else all the time. Unfortunately, I didn't take my camera so the only photograph I have is stuck on my mobile phone.

We presented our paper on setting up the Art & Anatomy SSCs to a small and polite audience in a session which also included presentations by Christine Borland and Lucy Lyons, so we were in distinguished company.

The highlight of the conference, for me, was the screening of David Cotterell's film "The Green Room", made during his residency with the Royal Army Medical Corps in Afghanistan.  The film was made in the Field Hospital as the surgical staff wait for an influx of wounded soldiers. Apparently calm & detached, it is charged with emotion and layers of meaning.  Superficially, one might think that nothing much is happening, just slow, almost choreographed movements to a soundtrack synthesised from unintelligible conversations and the sound of helicopter rotor blades.  In fact the suspense is palpable; the action is occurring elsewhere - either just out of shot or just out of focus at the back of the tent.  People move with deliberation, enhanced by the video technique: they are alert, anxious even, but prepared for tasks to which they have become accustomed.  At one moment, suddenly, someone laughs soundlessly and you realise that the tension has been released by a joke you can't hear. And, with unbearable poignancy, when a casualty does arrive and is wheeled to the back of the operating theatre, the surgical team still waiting for their patient turn slowly round to look, torn between concern for the new arrival and the anticipation of their own task. The claustrophic setting is not contextualised geographically or politically within the film (although this was done in detail during David Cotterell's lecture to the conference).  There is no overt ethical judgement:  we are asked to examine our own feelings about this particular situation and about warfare in general, and to reflect upon the paradox of healing in the context of conflict.

http://www.cotterrell.com

# 46 [13 July 2010]

The last week begins:  the last two students are preparing for their deadline, and I am preparing my invoice for expenses.

I'm looking forward to seeing the sketchbooks, as I think they've been doing quite a bit of drawing in the anatomy department this time.  Curiously, although students have been filling their sketchbooks with lots of stuff, there hasn't actually been a lot of Anatomy done so far.  I suspect that, at one stage, the only person doing any of yer actual anatomical drawing was me.

# 47 [15 July 2010]

There are now fewer than 24 hours to go before the final deadline for the student essays, and a fortnight to go before our deadline for assessments: so, the end of the first year of the project is in sight.  No doubt much reflection & feedback will take place, and decisions will be made about including the Medical Humanities options in next year's SSCs.  From informal conversations last night at our end-of-module party, the students appear to have enjoyed themselves, and found the Humanities options useful as a whole. (Thanks to Lisetta for the excellent hospitality.  Once again, I forgot to take my camera, so no photographs.)

An interesting piece of information from the A.M.H. conference in Truro:  apparently, medical students who study Humanities as part of their course are more able to cope with "ambiguity" once they qualify as doctors.  I wonder how you measure ambiguity?  By definition, one would expect it to be a bit tricky to pin down - is a situation ambiguous, or isn't it?  Or is it?  or perhaps not?

# 48 [18 August 2010]

As far as I can tell, the project is over for the present.  All the marking is finished, and I have even "second-marked" a couple of essays:  one by a student who came to the life classes, and one by a complete stranger whose SSC was with the Music Department.  Now I need to compose my feedback essay...

There's an interesting looking event at the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow on September 5th., but I'm not sure that I shall be able to get there.  The event is called "Flex and Ply", and the model on the poster has been painted with a dermatome map - a visual representation of the origins of the nerves supplying the different areas of skin (more or less) - which looks like a sort of stripey clown suit.  My attempts to copy & paste it into this blog have failed completely.  The information promises "wearable anatomies" as well as art work.  Use your imagination.

# 49 [27 August 2010]

As it turns out, we haven't quite finished.  One of the students is keen to polish his essay for publication - probably in the Journal for Medical Humanities.  If anyone knows whether there are any paintings by Jenny Saville in the West Midlands/NorthWest of England, I would be very grateful to hear about them as the student hasn't actually managed to see any of her paintings in the flesh (as it were)

# 50 [1 March 2011]

YEAR 2

I have been asked to do the Art & Anatomy SSCs for a second year, which is very pleasing.  This year we're planning to do two four-week blocks rather than 3, avoiding the clashes with exams which got in the way last year.

Must get organised..... the trouble with being terminally untidy is that everything is lost under piles of paper.  I had no idea that being a full-time artist would generate so much Stuff.  At least I know where the SSC Stuff is, having rescued my briefcase last year from it's 20year sojourn in the loft