Last week, in an attempt to reduce the cost of educating the average medical student, managers at Hull Royal Infirmary were instructed to bulk purchase 200 portable training kits, now known to be MB’s battery operated board game ‘Operation’.

 

We asked Consultant Orthopaedic Surgeon John Dear to explain the benefits of each of the tests within the game:

 

Spare ribs – “Humans only need 3 ribs, the rest are superfluous. I always advise smashing the extras with a sterile hammer and removing the shards with a hoover. Little weirdo Prince, of course, had 1 removed so he could hoover himself. Lucky bitch.”

 

Adam’s apple – “Some say that there’s no place for religion in science, and I say, ‘Eh? We’re talking about a man’s throat, you nut job’.”

 

The ankle bone’s connected to the knee bone – “That rhyme’s helped me immensely over the last 30 years. It’s a catchy little tune too!”

 

Broken heart – “Ah, sadly I know it only too well: an innocent, fresh-faced young intern, a charming fifty something Doctor … a little wine, a little Byron … a misunderstood gesture, a trapped testicle … and a case of malpractice. I shall never visit Rome again.”

 

Wrenched ankle – “I’m still having a weekly massage from a young Argentinean boy. Sometimes he rubs my ankle as well.”

 

Butterflies in the stomach – “The way I always feel before starting a surgical procedure where somebody inevitably dies.”

 

Water on the knee – “Always a risk if people have been near plumbing, visited the sea-side, or wet themselves in fear at my shaking crack-addict’s hands.”

 

Wish bone –  “Bones can get accidentally broken during surgery, and when it happens I encourage all of my students to make a little wish, for example a full recovery for the patient, or if not, then at least a solicitor who’s open to a bribe. As for me, it’s usually something frivolous and selfish, like yesterday when I accidentally paralysed a man from the neck down, I wished for my favourite pudding at the canteen. Thankfully it came true. Mmm, jam roly poly!”

 

Bread basket – “A tidy little reminder of why we struggle through this job every god forsaken day – the copious amounts of money. I like to place it all in a lovely big basket.”

 

Chief Executive of Hull’s PCT, Christopher Short, defended the training method, “This isn’t just a kids game, it can support serious medical instruction. We can also have a great piss-about during tea breaks.”

 

Meanwhile, the effectiveness of the technique is already delivering benefits to the local community, as recently qualified Junior Surgeon Barry Scott told us, “The whole experience was fantastic, though when I recently lost my first real patient I had no idea that anything had gone wrong. No buzzer, no nose lighting up – nothing. How am I supposed to work in these conditions?”