I
arrived in Liverpool in the autumn
of 1976. I was about 14 when I
d e c i d e d I w a n t e d t o b e a d o c t o r,
but why Liverpool? Well, they were
the only medical school that made
m e a n o ff e r, w h i c h s u i t e d m e a s t h e y
were my first choice. That was down
to football. I reasoned that, if I was
to go somewhere for 5 years, it had to
offer me something in
addition to my studies.
And what Liverpool
offered was Liverpool
FC.
I
never regretted
going to Liverpool.
It gave me 5 great
years as a student and
a career I
thoroughly
enjoyed, and which was spent
almost entirely in the Liverpool area.
A
t the time, Liverpool was a very
traditional medical course, with
5 pre-clinical terms leading
up to the 2nd MB exams, followed
by just over 3 years of clinical
attachments. The latter were heavily
weighted towards the major hospital
specialties, with whole terms in
m e d i c i n e , s u r g e r y, p a e d i a t r i c s a n d
O&G, and just 2 weeks in General
Practice. At the end, Finals were most
definitely a marathon, not a sprint. A
week of written exams in the Grove
2 0 S t r e e t g y m n a s i u m , f o l l o w e d b y o v e r 2
Liverpool Medical School
and Beyond
By Dr John O'Donnell
MB. ChB 1981
weeks of clinical exams and vivas. My
main memory of finals was the lady at
Whiston who was my long case in the
Medicine clinical exam. When asked if
anything made her symptoms worse,
she said no, but (with a knowing grin)
they got better when she stopped
drinking. She then made doubly sure
I saw
all her signs of
alcoholic liver
disease.
T
he “old”
medical
school was
housed in the late Victorian
red brick buildings on the quadrangle
behind the Victoria Building, whilst
the “new” medical school was located
at the bottom of Ashton Street. Half
way during our time at Liverpool, the
“new” Royal Hospital opened and the
medical school moved into the Duncan
Building.
T
he Dean of the Medical School
w h e n w e s t a r t e d w a s C e c i l G r a y,
a pioneering anaesthetist,
who developed the use of muscle
relaxants and introduced the
“ L i v e r p o o l t e c h n i q u e .” O n e o f o u r
anatomy demonstrators was Ron
Evans, who later became a Consultant
Orthopaedic Surgeon at Aintree.
We were taught Neuro-Anatomy by
D a v i d B o w s h e r. Y o u d i d n ’ t h a v e t o
take notes, as you could follow each
lecture word for word in his book on
the subject. Anatomy wasn’t one of
my strengths and, in common with
countless others, I benefited from
the teaching of Dr MacMillan, known
to all as Daddy Mac. He was a great
teacher with a wonderful ability
to get across what you needed to
k n o w, a n d i n s u c h a w a y t h a t y o u
didn’t forget it. By contrast, Donald
H e a t h , P r o f e s s o r o f P a t h o l o g y, u s e d
a teaching style that combined fear
with humiliation. His great interest
was pulmonary hypertension, so it was
well worth revising that extensively
because it always came up in the
exam.
A
particular rite of passage was
the final year circus, held at
the end of Friday afternoon and
presided over Dr A. John Robertson,
a k a B l a c k J a c k . F o r t u n a t e l y, h e w a s
absent when it was my turn, and my
stumbling presentation of a long case
was heard much more sympathetically
by one of his colleagues, Colin Ogilvie
I think, but I’m not sure. A few years
l a t e r, a l o c a l G P w a s b e i n g p l a g u e d b y
a patient with minor symptoms, who
refused to be reassured and wanted a
second opinion. He thought who do I
know who will tell this patient to go
a w a y, t h e r e ’s n o t h i n g b l o o d y w r o n g
with you, and charge them a fat fee
for the privilege. The letter began
“ D e a r D r R o b e r t s o n . . . . . . .”
A
s a final year student at
Broadgreen, I first met Dr Eric
Baker-Bates, known to all as
BB. His father had been a doctor and
mayor of St. Helens 4 times, as well
as owning the first motor car in the
town. BB was in his mid 70s and long
r e t i r e d , b u t h e c o u l d n ’ t s t a y a w a y.
So he would turn up unannounced at
any hospital on Merseyside, locate a
group of medical students and whisk
them off on a teaching ward round,
all done in his own inimitable style.
This happened to us, and afterwards
he took us all back to his flat in
Rodney Street for lunch. He always
had a large stock pot on the stove,
f u l l o f h i s “ s o u p .” T h i s w a s c o n s t a n t l y
replenished by the leftovers from his
latest meal, so it was a constantly
changing kaleidoscope of aromas
and flavours. BB owned the whole
b u i l d i n g , b u t l i v e d o n t h e t o p fl o o r.
To s a v e h i m s e l f t h e b o t h e r o f g o i n g
a l l t h e w a y d o w n t o t h e b i n s , h e ’d
constructed a shoot that went all the
way from his kitchen window to his
bin.
T
he Medical Students Society was
an important part of my time
as a student in Liverpool. MSS
meetings were held every Thursday
evening during university term time in
the Old Surgery Lecture Theatre in the
Derby Building, which had been built
in 1904 to house the Departments of
A n a t o m y & S u r g e r y. W h e n t h e b u i l d i n g
was refurbished in 1990, it was
reconstructed in the Victoria Building.
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