I spent most of my fifth year at medical school working on a project surrounding funding for the last few years of medical school. In a nutshell, over 90% of senior medics cannot afford their most basic living costs. The problem was discussed in detail in Felix last year with articles by me and last year's editor, Philippa Skett. 

Tomorrow morning a paper will finally go to Provost Board in the infamous Blue Cube after over a year of work. I am nervous, excited and frustrated all in equal measure. A positive step forward has been taken, but the proposals put forward by the College are still a million miles from a genuine solution. To back up the copious and compelling data I have presented to College, I was asked to provide "talking heads". Personal stories from students. Apparently a well conducted survey with a response rate three times higher than SOLE is insufficient. I have just collated and sent a whole bunch of letters from ICSM students to John Neilson and Provost James Stirling. This collection of letters includes my own story of funding medical school which I have decided to publish as an open letter here. There is hope glimering on the horizon - many people in the College have listened and empathised. The message that this needs to be fixed is slowly working up the chain of command. 

Dear John Neilson,

Since you and Dean Pateman beseeched me to provide “talking heads” to back up the data I provided (with a much higher response rate than SOLE), I have done just that and will tell my own personal story of NHS Bursaries in solidarity with my colleagues.

I grew up far less than well off, the daughter of a teacher and a mechanic. Everything I have ever done, I have managed though scholarships, blind luck and good old fashioned North of England hard graft. I did not go to a good school and I have been in some form of employment continuously since the age of 13.

I fought tooth and nail to get into medical school; I have studied hard, been very active in societies and have worked full time and voluntarily for the Union. I worked and saved before I even started at Imperial, grafting through pub pot washing jobs, retail jobs and teaching music while still in school, followed by several months of minimum wage, 60+ hour a week, backbreaking work as a hotel chamber maid until a few days before moving to Imperial. As you can see, I am far from work shy and do not necessarily care for glamour or the easy life.

During the last five years at Imperial I have been extremely fortunate. One of the few benefits of a below average household income is maximum student loan and a full College Bursary. I am grateful for this and would like to take the opportunity to extend my thanks to the College for this. In spite of this, I still returned to work at the Hotel every holiday to save up, regardless of exam commitments after Christmas and Easter breaks. In the summer between my second and third years I actually worked several jobs simultaneously while living with my parents – 7 days a week, 10 hours a day, three months. Essentially, I did not have a holiday or take a break for 3 or 4 years.

Based on the above, you are in no position to tell me that I should have done more to remain financially stable.

After third year, holidays stopped and normal term structures stop for medics. I could no longer move home for a few months to earn and save. This is where the problems begin. I should take this opportunity to state that I never reached the level of desperation faced by many of my peers, however I was forced to cut back very dramatically. Regardless of all the part time work and a maximum NHS bursary, I still struggled to make ands meet.

I lived in an overcrowded (5, at times 6-7 people in a 3 bedroom), damp, structurally suspicious flat managed by a highly unscrupulous landlady. Fruit, vegetables and the odd pint or dinner with friends to take the edge of seeing people, including children and babies almost die (or actually die) before my eyes were an occasional luxury.

I took up a fairly lucrative tutoring job towards the end of my fourth year. The downside to this comes from losing huge amounts of valuable study time travelling to wealthy London suburbs, making excuses to leave distant hospitals early, sacrificing my education in order to get to work. I knew if I didn’t, I would not be paying rent that month.

The angriest I have ever been with the College was in December 2014. As part of our paediatric rotations we are sent on a two week ‘residency rotation’ so that we can experience paediatric care from other angles; many of the available placements are well outside of London as far away as Dundee. I emailed to coordinator explaining that if I were sent away from London, I would not be able to work and would thus be unable to eat, pay rent or travel to clinical placements. I received I terse response (im)politely telling me to essentially eff off, with the College’s part time employment policy attached.  Can you imagine how that feels? The institution, which has a duty of care to you, who committed in its own strategy to support your wellbeing, essentially did not care if I was evicted or starved.

I survived, but a lucky streak can only last so long, and ‘Northern Grit’ can only be so strong. I am proud to have made it to the end of my fifth year, despite feeling disadvantaged academically after loosing so much time to chasing financial stability. I can tell you with certainty that things would have only got worse had I not taken a sabbatical year. I certainly would have no way of fulfilling my dream of an elective doing obstetrics and maternity care in the developing world. Elective is a right of passage for those pursuing medicine, and an opportunity to learn what cannot be learned in the UK.

Once again, sheer luck as seen me in a position where I am able to get by. I can have the dream elective, an educational experience like no other. Next year I will be secure enough to devote time to studying. Like all medical students, I am constantly striving to become the best doctor I can possibly be. Many of us feel disadvantaged by the number of hours we must work, alongside gruelling timetables of 35-40 hours a week in the hospital with hours of our own studying on top. I can’t see it as anything but a step backwards that students are being directly disadvantaged by their financial situation.

Thank you for your time

Jennifer Watson