Medical Trial and Croydon Riots

While I’ve on the study I’ve had a few problems with the ward’s hospital internet connection. I’ve tried logging on several times using different passwords but despite the fact the wireless symbol is showing there is a strong feed the firefox Mozilla and google chrome are refusing to recognise it. I don’t know what I’ve done to my laptop and I’ve tried to consult it’s help support centre but there doesn’t seem to be a reason why the internet explorer wouldn’t work. Technology is wrong. Or the people who made it are. And their mistake is preventing me from updating my blog as I would like.

Since Monday my experience on the study ward has been quite normal and routine. Well, that’s as “normal” as you could possibly expect. It’s never boring as there is always something happening or someone to talk to, if you don’t mind a stint of claustrophobic isolation and periods of laying about checking your email (sic) and watching tv.

For the study myself and eleven other volunteers have to spend a period of roughly six to eight hours laying silent and still on our beds while doctors and nurse tiptoe around us and hush us at the slightest movement. They are taking heartbeat tests using an ECG monitor and blood samples from a canulla valve injected into the arm. It is not a painful experience except for the uncomfortable feeling of laying on your back for such a long duration and occasionally at 6 am when a nurse accidentally misses a vein in your arm and pushes the needle into your muscle and then goes through a controlled panic of locating another vein before doing it again. The only other complaint I have of the ward, besides the limited entertainment and DVD selection, would probably be the hospital. It’s back to school dinners, and if your pallet isn’t against bland microwave dishes consisting of endless variations of rice/pasta you won’t have a problem, though the quality of the food itself can often feel…well say…bland. The one other human necessity you will have to do without is of the intimate sort. The trial is mixed sex so often you’ll find someone to talk to and sometimes the close proximity of the volunteers can mean ample opportunity for conversation and exchanges but you must be aware of etiquette and remain polite where there is an extreme absence personal space and privacy. You might be surprised to find yourself introducing who you are to your neighbour on the ward and chatting away on various subjects that you never even knew you possessed knowledge on simply as away of breaking the pulverising monotony. Most of the volunteers are students, graduates or travellers alongside individuals who are either out of work or between jobs. On this trial I’ve met two medical students midway on there courses who have chatted to me a lot about their career interests, full moon parties and gap year holidays abroad. I feel like I know a lot more orthopaedic practice and the labyrinth complexity of exams taken they must undergo over a 5-7 year period.

So far the trial has lasted for two periods of five days with one weekend intermission in between. On Monday 8^th August during my admission for the second period I became a window spectator to the Croydon riots that occurred just 10 minutes away on the road leading to the city centre. My sister, who I had been staying with at her flat in Brixton, had woken me that morning to tell me that town centre and its’ railway station had been closed due to the damage caused by the riots the night before. Funny, as we met outside the Ritzy cinema near the main junction Brixton underground and I felt surprised to see so many bystanders and young people who I leaned had been at a local music festival that Sunday.