Everyone will have that person they can go to at
times of need. For me that was Sue, my academic tutor, who comforted me when I
was flailing.
In my first term at med school, I found it hard to adapt to the workload after my year away. I tried to revise in the perfectionist style I used at A level; covering every detail and knowing the curriculum inside out. At Med school the shear content in the small time frame caused me to panic. Knowing that I would have to walking into an exam not knowing everything scared me, I was out of my comfort zone.
I had a timetabled meeting to get my portfolio signed off and I broke down. The thought of underachieving was too much. Sue was there for me, we talked about our home lives and I felt like she really cared. She was an interesting character with interests in art and literature. She was also an above the knee amputee from cancer. She emailed me over the holidays and invited me to meet her for coffee in town if I ever needed a chat. She was more than just a tutor.
We continued to meet up and email throughout the academic year and I was looking forward to see her after the summer. Unfortunately, my academic tutor group was met by the school secretary who had some devastating news. Over the summer the cancer had returned. We were assured, that although Sue could no longer be our tutor she would be around and would still be lecturing ethics.
I was really saddened by the news, such a bombshell to be dropped on her life. I knew she was planning a holiday to Sardinia, I bet she hadn't been able to go. She was probably spending her time going back and forth to the hospital. I went out and bought her an arty card. There were lots of cards with 'get well soon' and 'thinking of you' but they just didn't seem right. I got my whole tutor group to sign the card and have it to school office to pass on to her.
That weekend was when the real shock was. I logged on to my uni account to find an announcement from the Medical school's Dean about Sue. I could only assume this would be about the cancer returning and about her relinquishing some of her teaching responsibilities. It was far worse that I ever imagined.
The cancer was terminal and it had taken her.
It was such a shock, how could it all happen so quickly? We were given the impression that she was relatively 'okay' seeing as she was still at work. I felt so stupid to be faffing about that card when Sue was dying. She was actually dying. I can't imagine her family looking at the frail version of Sue. Her teenage children watching her suffer. I was supposed be revising for tomorrow's exam but I found myself reading her blog. It filled me with pain and sadness to know that she will never see her daughter graduate and won't be around to support her son through his uni application.
I tried not let it bother me but it really did. I didn't know her incredibly well but she was someone special to me.
The following week we had seminars on death and dying, the day of Sue's funeral. Why is it that things always work out like that?
It was too much, I had to leave the group. I couldn't get her out of my mind. I didn't want to get her out of my mind, she deserved thinking about but now wasn't the time to mourn.
My seminar leader came out to me to make sure I was okay. I was, it was just a bit too soon to be openly discussing death. I would have probably been okay if I didn't contribute to the session but that's just not like me, I like to get involved. I was mortified that my seminar group had seen me in tears. I felt weak, like people would think I'm too sensitive.
She reassured me that I was doing okay, she said you can't teach empathy and sensitivity. After some time, this made me feel better; I shouldn't be embarrassed to be emotional. We all get caught off guard sometimes, it's what makes us responsive human beings.
Writing this has given me the opportunity to reflect on the whole experience. Sue really was a special lady. I'm very glad to have met her and send my condolences to those she was close to.
In my first term at med school, I found it hard to adapt to the workload after my year away. I tried to revise in the perfectionist style I used at A level; covering every detail and knowing the curriculum inside out. At Med school the shear content in the small time frame caused me to panic. Knowing that I would have to walking into an exam not knowing everything scared me, I was out of my comfort zone.
I had a timetabled meeting to get my portfolio signed off and I broke down. The thought of underachieving was too much. Sue was there for me, we talked about our home lives and I felt like she really cared. She was an interesting character with interests in art and literature. She was also an above the knee amputee from cancer. She emailed me over the holidays and invited me to meet her for coffee in town if I ever needed a chat. She was more than just a tutor.
We continued to meet up and email throughout the academic year and I was looking forward to see her after the summer. Unfortunately, my academic tutor group was met by the school secretary who had some devastating news. Over the summer the cancer had returned. We were assured, that although Sue could no longer be our tutor she would be around and would still be lecturing ethics.
I was really saddened by the news, such a bombshell to be dropped on her life. I knew she was planning a holiday to Sardinia, I bet she hadn't been able to go. She was probably spending her time going back and forth to the hospital. I went out and bought her an arty card. There were lots of cards with 'get well soon' and 'thinking of you' but they just didn't seem right. I got my whole tutor group to sign the card and have it to school office to pass on to her.
That weekend was when the real shock was. I logged on to my uni account to find an announcement from the Medical school's Dean about Sue. I could only assume this would be about the cancer returning and about her relinquishing some of her teaching responsibilities. It was far worse that I ever imagined.
The cancer was terminal and it had taken her.
It was such a shock, how could it all happen so quickly? We were given the impression that she was relatively 'okay' seeing as she was still at work. I felt so stupid to be faffing about that card when Sue was dying. She was actually dying. I can't imagine her family looking at the frail version of Sue. Her teenage children watching her suffer. I was supposed be revising for tomorrow's exam but I found myself reading her blog. It filled me with pain and sadness to know that she will never see her daughter graduate and won't be around to support her son through his uni application.
I tried not let it bother me but it really did. I didn't know her incredibly well but she was someone special to me.
The following week we had seminars on death and dying, the day of Sue's funeral. Why is it that things always work out like that?
It was too much, I had to leave the group. I couldn't get her out of my mind. I didn't want to get her out of my mind, she deserved thinking about but now wasn't the time to mourn.
My seminar leader came out to me to make sure I was okay. I was, it was just a bit too soon to be openly discussing death. I would have probably been okay if I didn't contribute to the session but that's just not like me, I like to get involved. I was mortified that my seminar group had seen me in tears. I felt weak, like people would think I'm too sensitive.
She reassured me that I was doing okay, she said you can't teach empathy and sensitivity. After some time, this made me feel better; I shouldn't be embarrassed to be emotional. We all get caught off guard sometimes, it's what makes us responsive human beings.
Writing this has given me the opportunity to reflect on the whole experience. Sue really was a special lady. I'm very glad to have met her and send my condolences to those she was close to.
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