Trading places

We had just moved into a new house: lovely area, great flatmates, close to college and the pub, but with a terrible shower. One night, using a vaguely remembered principle from elementary physics, I crouched down in the shower in a futile attempt to increase the water pressure. I noticed a small black mole on my inner thigh that had not been there before.

And so my story begins. Innocent enough, a chance discovery that has altered my life and the way I practise medicine. I went from medical student to patient and have come back again. I am sure that every medical student has experiences as a patient, but a serious illness made me both question and appreciate our roles as doctors and has shone a new light on my life, personal and professional.

I showed the mole to my medic flatmates, my friends, and my family. They all thought I was that classic case-the medical student hypochondriac. The one who thinks that the palpitations they get after exercise are more than just a sign of chronic unfitness. The one who thinks that their tiredness is a complex endocrine disorder, not just the result of too many nights out. Unconvinced, I went to see my general practitioner, who reassured me it was probably nothing serious, as it was flat and regular in shape, although she excised it to be on the safe side. I forgot all about it and continued my third year placements.