Supporting you through your Graduate Entry Medicine course
Get advice, support and guidance on an academic and personal level during your time at Nottingham.
Medicine is an incredibly rewarding career, and we are here to support you on your journey through Medical School.
We have a broad range of support available to all our students, from professionally trained staff to dedicated personal academic tutors, to student peer mentors and our MedSoc society.
But don’t just take our word for it, meet Dana, a final year Graduate Entry Medicine student who shares her experience of studying with a chronic disability.
Studying Medicine with a chronic disability
“My name is Dana, I am a 4th year medical student…”
This is the typical opening sentence for clinical skills sessions. I say this whenever there are interactions with patients or other healthcare professionals during placements, and last but not least, during the feared OSCEs. I would like to add today to that opening sentence: My name is Dana, I am a 4th year medical student with a chronic disability.
It is not something that is usually said, but thanks to the University of Nottingham, disability and all students who suffer from it will have their recognition and exposure in the commendable initiative of Disability Recognition Month.
So, it is my turn to talk a bit about my disability and what it is like to be a training doctor suffering from it.
I have a diagnosis of complex post-traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD) after experiencing devastating traumatic events during childhood. I also have a diagnosis of chronic kidney condition and postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS). What this means is that there are times when acute episodes occur during which I must undergo intensive treatment (including frequent hospitalisations last academic year for acute kidney injury and sepsis, which amounted to losing four weeks at the very beginning of my FFP placement).
But the impact is quite consistent in my everyday life, too. There is a list of everyday occurrences which influence my overall functionality in life ranging from chronic pain, at times moderate and bearable, at other times less so; fainting episodes; psychomotor retardation; feeling fatigued more than I would like it to be.
On the emotional side, the unpalatable legacy of CPTSD is a chronic lack of confidence, dealing every day with imposter syndrome, despite previous academic successes (a PhD in bioethics and a postdoctoral research associate appointment at Princeton University). It is more of a state of mind about feeling different, wrong, inadequate, the wrong tassel in an otherwise perfectly ordered puzzle than others. And proven academic success struggles to fight and defeat a state of mind the illness has made a feature of my personality.
There is also the constant uncertainty, the fear that another acute relapse will land me in the hospital, and not allow the continuation of medical studies. And on top of it all, the profession of medicine, despite progress in this aspect, is still too much centred on the unattainable ideal of the doctor as a superhuman agency. When you have a disability, an underlying feeling of inadequacy and isolation for my body and my mind not meeting the narrative of the superhuman doctor develops.
What is it that the university has done for me to make the dream of becoming a doctor possible despite all the above limitations?
I declared my disability from the beginning and from the very start I had a bespoke support plan and frequent follow-ups with outstanding mental health care professionals from mental health advisory support and the wellbeing group. I’ve also had a tutor who has always been there for me through thick and thin giving me outstanding practical and emotional support.
To the other students suffering from a disability and attending the University of Nottingham, I would confidently say: do not be shy, talk openly and ask for support.
The University of Nottingham will do its best to help you. With me, thanks to the outstanding support received, I hope one day I will be able to say: My name is Dana, a consultant nephrologist…”
Dana Rinaldi, final year, Graduate Entry Medicine student
