Musings from my Rocking Chair

By Nihal D Amerasekera

As I moved house and downsized I have insisted on taking my rocking chair with me. It has become a silent companion in my retirement. This is the next best thing to a traditional Sri Lankan Hansi-Putuwa that my granddad spent his leisure. Sometimes I slowly rock myself into a slumber. There are times I reflect lazily on the twists and turns of my life.It is a perfect posture to meditate, ruminate and cogitate when the days work is done. I am partial to a glass of vino to help lubricate my thoughts.

Memories of Sri Lanka where I grew up are always with me. What stands out is my deep and lasting gratitude to my country for giving me the education at school and University for free. The all-round education was of the highest order and I couldn’t have had it better anywhere else in the world. It is some comfort and consolation that I worked as a doctor for 7 years in Sri Lanka.

Still there are times I dream I’m in the Mens Common Room in the Medical Faculty at Kynsey Road. Such is the depth of feeling for my alma mater. There I feel close to the friends who made it so special. GHC with its iconic long corridors was our workshop where we learnt our trade. I like to think it was a splendid institution, yet, no organization is perfect. There are many things I disliked in the faculty. Starting at the very beginning it was the rag. The psychopaths had a field day every day of those 2 weeks. It is incomprehensible that the management turned a blind eye to this obnoxious and vulgar behaviour. Old habits die hard as the vestiges of the rag still haunt the freshers.

There was far too much anatomy taught and the detailed study seemed so pointless, as I look back. The signatures and revisals were conducted as if they were a matter of life and death. The Block had a sinister and toxic ambience. Some of our teachers reveled in our stress and discomfiture. Surely there are better ways to teach and learn. Thankfully the ’syllabus’ has been scaled down.The pendulum has now has now moved too far in the opposite direction. Some students think the posterior fornix is in the back of the eye!!

There was an amiable man, whose name I cannot now recall, who taught us pharmacy. He showed us how to make the once ubiquitous mixtures, Carminative, Pot Cit and Sodi Sal. These were dispensed by the gallon up and down the country at government hospitals. We learnt about tinctures that made up these mixtures and how they were poured into narrow bottles with a zig zag slip of paper to indicate the dose. He demonstrated how the ointments are made. This was light entertainment for us after the sweat and toil for a multitude of subjects for the 3^rd MB.

Forensic medicine was taught in great detail as it was bound to come in handy for many of us to perform autopsies and attend courts as  DMO’s. There was so much emphasis on M'Naghten rules.A generation of medical students failed if they could not repeat the rule exactly at the viva voce examination. I do not think any one of us used the M'Naghten rules ever in our lifetime and will never ever do. Prof HVJ and Dr WDL Fermando conducted these Vivas. I forgive them for this grave‘miscarriage of justice’ for their wonderful rendition of the popular song “Officers daughter” at an event at the Health Department Sports Club at Castle Street. It was done with such intense passion, forensic detail and greatpoignancy. This received a rapturous ovation.

The doctor series of books written by Richard Gordon glamourized the medical profession.They gave the general public a rare glimpse into the lives of hospital doctors. The arrogant, imperious and revolting behavior of theSenior Surgeon, Sir Lancelot Spratt, stood out as he carried out his surgical duties.His condescending treatment of medical students gave us an impression of the tough life of students and staff in London in the 1950’s. Our clinical teachers who had worked in Britain conducted themselves in a similar manner. They behaved as demi-Gods treating everyone else with contempt. The suggestion of having a second opinion was anathema to them. I hasten to add there were many exceptions. Having said all that with frankness and sincerity it must also be said our clinical teachers were some of the best in the world. This was the golden era of medical education in Sri Lanka. Everyone of them without exception gave of their best to the students and to their patients. I just wished they showed a bit more kindnessand less of their enormous egos to usstudents as we learned our trade.

I take a cue from the title of the 1996 song by that English Rock Band - Oasis – Don’t look back in anger. 

The wind of change has blown across medical education worldwide. I had the privilege to teach radiology registrars from the Royal Free Hospital and also medical students from the Royal Free and Cambridge University.Teaching is now done with mutual respect and is great fun and satisfying to all.There is far more friendly banter now. The medical curriculum too has undergone an enormous transformation,teaching what is relevant.Whenever a doubt exists a second opinion is encouraged by clinicians. There are better text-books than we’ve had. Much of the theory of medicine is now available on Google. Hence the students ask far more searching questions than we ever did.Teachers can’t get away with thosewoolly answers.

The great heights our batch-mates have reached in almost every sphere of medicine shows without doubt how well we have been taught. I do not think any of us have been hampered adversely by the toxic atmosphere and the aggressive teaching methods. It was simply unpleasantat the time when there was no real need for it.

As I reflect and reminisce ours was a most remarkable batch. Friendships are a divine gift. It brings great sadness to lose so many so soon. May they find eternal peace