Last reviewed: 23 September 2025
I’m a week away from starting the MSc and my brain is doing that neat trick where excitement and dread take turns holding the steering wheel. I made my first LinkedIn post today. Hit publish. Stared at the screen like it might explode. It didn’t. A few people reacted and liked it—mostly friends and uni friends, but it eased the nerves.
The last few days were mostly logistics—moving to Birmingham, finding the kettle, figuring out which key is which. I didn’t do as much as I’d planned, which stung a little. So I kept the pilot light on: quick anatomy reps. I revisited the hip and I’ve started the knee.
What helped: I said the movements out loud while I drew them. Flexion sounded like a rhythm—iliopsoas, rectus, sartorius—and the word femoral landed as the underline. Abduction felt quieter but clearer once I pictured glute med/min and TFL working together—superior gluteal on repeat. Extension stayed honest when I let glute max lead and the hamstrings follow—inferior gluteal then the tibial side of sciatic. I kept an eye on the short head of biceps femoris, the little rebel that wanders to the common fibular.
For the knee I’m keeping the anchors simple enough to say without notes: quadriceps with femoral for extension; hamstrings with tibial for flexion; popliteus (tibial) for the unlock. When I get lost, I trace the landmarks—condyles, the trochlear groove, patella, tibial plateau, tuberosity, fibular head—until the picture settles.
What didn’t help: Treating origins and insertions like a shopping list. The lines make sense first; the labels can come after. Also, long sessions after a moving day were bravado. Five minutes with a pen beat an hour of guilt every time.
Small truth: I didn’t manage a perfect streak. Some days I drew one angle of the hip and called it a win; other days I could redraw three without peeking. The knee is newer—most landmarks I can place cleanly now, not all. That’s where I’m actually at.
This week’s aim: Most days: one redraw of hip + knee from memory, one short read (5–10 minutes) that answers a real question, and one neat line here—even if it’s just what went wrong and what I’ll try tomorrow.
Boundaries, as always: this is educational—not personal medical advice. No patient‑identifiable details. I follow local policies and senior guidance. If I change my mind, I’ll say so and date it here.
—J