Welcome to my Brain Dump

Brain Dump

A brain dump is the complete transfer of accessible knowledge about a particular subject from your brain to another storage medium, such as paper or your computer's hard drive. It’s a survival tactic—one I wish I’d mastered earlier in my career.

Three years ago, I was sitting in the café at the university where I worked, doing my best impression of someone who just wanted to enjoy their sausage bap in peace, when a student plopped themselves down in front of me and committed the unspeakable act of… trying to start a conversation.

The week prior, I had given a talk about how much of a procrastinator I was in university but still managed to survive, hoping to give fifth-year students some reassurance that foundation training wouldn’t completely wear them down. I aimed to inspire—but in doing so, I accidentally made myself—pause for gasps of horror—approachable!

As is typical, the student tried to relate to me awkwardly before cutting to the chase. Don’t mistake me for someone who doesn’t enjoy a little flattery; I appreciate it as much as the last slice of bread. But I was mid-bite, still feeling the effects of the Omeprazole I’d taken that morning, so I responded with my usual polite bluntness:

“How can I help?”

Big mistake.

He. Was. Terrified.

His worries spilled out all at once—night shifts, nursing responsibilities, meal planning, morphine doses. It was too much to handle while trying to swallow a bread roll. I offered some platitudes, assuring him he’d be fine, and jokingly mentioned that I might write a blog one day he could read. Even then, it didn’t feel quite right.

The Reality of Medical Training

I don’t think this is the university’s fault. To their credit, the institution where I worked produced grounded students and didn’t shy away from presenting the harsh realities of actual practice. I may be biased, but honesty is crucial when someone’s future is at stake.

The truth is, the transition from medical school to clinical practice is notoriously brutal. A 2017 study found that over 70% of junior doctors in the UK reported experiencing burnout symptoms within their first year of practice.  In 2023 alone, 15% of NHS junior doctors quit within their first two years of training.  The shift from theoretical learning to real-life responsibility hits hard.

Back when I graduated in 2011, a Glasgow deanery introductory guide for new junior doctors was pulled because it mentioned how tiring and upsetting the first few weeks could be. They were so afraid of losing staff that they redacted it entirely. That year, a junior doctor tragically crashed their car after a night shift due to exhaustion—a stark reminder that the pressures of the job are not just emotional but physical, too.

This is going to hurt, this is not

Now, I’m not Adam Kay. I have no book deal, no BBC series, nor a wildly successful comedy band (damn that guy was talented—he could have been a doctor or something). But I have lived through the chaos of medical training, and I know the toll it takes.

While most people during the pandemic focused on making sourdough starters, learning to knit, getting healthy, buying pets, or generally torturing their families with their presence, I decided to commit a decade of hard lessons from my time as a junior doctor—both in hospitals and in the community—to paper. My hope was to add a bit more balanced reality to the profession and, of course, continue to torture my family with my very presence.

So

This is for you—student whose name I’ve tragically forgotten because I’m awful like that.

Stay positive.

DW