Young BJS
Dedicated to and managed by surgeons in training, Young BJS offers everything a trainee could need to supplement and expand upon their core learning.
Focusing on the importance of surgical research, it gives trainees the opportunity to read and critique research, design surgical projects and optimise their chances of being published in peer-reviewed journals.
Early postoperative orthostatic intolerance: pathophysiology and clinical implications
Joshi GP, Lobo DN, Kehlet H.
BJS 2025; 112: znaf109.
Perineal reconstruction for advanced pelvic malignancies
Li Z, Tang A, Drew P.
BJS 2025; 112: znaf164.
Peritoneal surface malignancy: performing complete cytoreduction in occult peritoneal spaces is challenging
Glehen O, Bhatt A, Sugarbaker PH.
BJS 2025; 112: znaf098.
Essay competition: my most rewarding day as a surgical trainee
Have you had a moment in your training that reminded you exactly why you chose surgery? A day that made you feel proud and inspired?
Now is your chance to share that story with the surgical community — and win some fantastic prizes.
The “My most rewarding day as a surgical trainee” essay competition is now open!
Preoperative management and resectability criteria in perihilar cholangiocarcinoma
Sturesson C, Soreide K.
BJS 2025; 112: znae329.
Comment: Treatment often considered futile, but a thorough work-up, and surgery for selected patients is worthwhile.
Evaluation and treatment of ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm
Leinweber ME, Rahmaditya FS, Hinchliffe RJ
Br J Surg 2025; 112: znaf051.
A surgical challenge on the evacuation train
Georgios Karagiannidis MBBS, MRCS, AFHEA
I was on holiday in Greece when news broke that a wildfire had erupted northeast of Athens, rapidly approaching the small town of Varnavas. On the morning of 12 August 2024, the skies were already heavy with smoke, and the wind carried an ominous, ash-laden warmth. I had planned a brief train trip north to admire the countryside, but instead, I found myself in the midst of an emergency evacuation, with local authorities urging everyone to board trains heading away from the fire zone.
I was ushered onto a crowded carriage filled with anxious families, many clutching their belongings in small bags. The train began rolling slowly southward, but before long, the atmosphere grew tense and unsettling. Amid the chaos, a frail-looking older man, who had been coughing incessantly, suddenly collapsed in the aisle. I identified myself as a doctor (the only medical personnel on board) and rushed to his side.
When I knelt down, I noticed a small wound on his arm. He must have brushed against jagged metal or broken glass during the hurried boarding. He was also breathless, appearing to verge on shock. Quick assessment revealed that in addition to the laceration on his forearm, he might be suffering from inhalation of smoke or an exacerbation of a chronic lung condition.
High stakes on a plane
Oliver Kooseenlin
I was sleeping on a flight and I am woken by a flight attendant asking a man in the opposite row “are you sure you’re OK?”
He was hyperventilating and complaining of chest pain. When the flight attendants started to bring out medical equipment from a locker, a curiosity spark lit up. I never experienced a medical emergency on a flight since graduating. I assisted a passenger on a train before, but never in the air.
I introduced myself, informed them I was training to become a surgeon and tried to get a brief history. I had no idea where to start. I asked, with little confidence, if there was any emergency kit? The crew proceeded to show me vials of adrenaline, an airway kit, an oxygen cylinder and plasters. The patient had low sats, so I went through my A to E in my head – thinking of my recent CCrISP -, putting on oxygen as we moved onto C and D, asking the cabin crew to be my “scribe” for the findings. A whirl of surgical differentials started spinning in my head when examining the abdomen. Could this be a pneumothorax, would he need a chest drain? Is this a perforation needing urgent intervention. Is this an episode of pancreatitis triggered by one too many in the bar pre-flight?
Everyday emergencies: “It’s the journey that matters”
Ayesha Unadkat
We often hear "It’s the Journey That Matters," but this took on new meaning for me one evening on a train. I realised surgical problems begin long before the first incision—sometimes in the everyday moments, often unnoticed.
It had been a long day, my mind cluttered with unread emails as the train hummed on. Suddenly, a shopping bag slipped from an elderly woman’s hand, spilling groceries. She barely reacted, staring at her hand as her grandson scrambled to collect the items. “Nan, you dropped everything!” he laughed, but she didn’t respond. Her eyes met mine, blinking as if clearing a fog. Her voice, slow and slurred, murmured, “Sorry, I just feel a little off”. Something felt wrong. This wasn't mere clumsiness but a silent alarm bell, a surgical emergency unfolding amidst the mundane.
Introducing myself, I gently inquired about her symptoms. "Can you raise your arms?" I asked. Her left arm wavered; the right remained motionless. Her history, reluctantly revealed, included a recent ‘tumble’, a detail she'd dismissed as trivial. My mind raced—could this be a stroke? An intracranial haemorrhage? The "FAST" mnemonic, a staple of stroke diagnosis, flashed through my mind: Facial droop, Arm weakness, Speech difficulties, Time to call emergency services. Without scans or senior clinicians, what was once just a memory aid from a lecture now felt very real. If this was a neurosurgical emergency, ‘Time’ was critical.
Cast your vote: ‘A surgical problem I helped manage on a plane, boat or train’ essay competition
We invited medical students and trainees to share their most memorable experiences managing surgical problems while in transit — on planes, boats or trains. Now, it’s your turn to decide the winner.
Read the entries and cast your vote by clicking the thumbs-up icon next to your favourite:
Antibiotic stewardship in acute pancreatitis
van Santvoort H, Voermans RP, Zyromski NJ, Siriwardena AK.
Br J Surg 2025;
112: znaf007
Rectal cancer surgery: radiology roadmaps
Pring ET, Burling DN, Glover TE, Jenkins JT.
BJS 2025; 112: znae270.
BJS Open 2024 best colorectal surgery articles: editors’ choices
Lorentzen L, McDermott F.
BJS Open 2025; 9: zraf005.
The best of hepato-pancreato-biliary (HPB) surgery in BJS Open : advancing frontiers towards 2025
Marchegiani G.
BJS Open 2025; 9: zrae167.
Emergency care of metabolic bariatric surgery patients
Zakeri R, Andersson E, Borg CM, Liem RSL.
Br J Surg 2024; 111: znae233.
The operating theatre of the future: What will it look like in 2050?
Kashmir Gaddu
This essay was submitted as part of an essay competition. Read the competition announcement and rules for voting here.
Gone are the days of a solely sterile room in monotones of blue.
2050 has arrived … Tiny nanobots weave through the patient, delivering precise doses of medication, while advanced robots with their metallic limbs stand poised. Look around ... students shed the weight of textbooks; their eyes glued to sleek headsets as they virtually explore the patient's anatomy and learn in real-time. Even damaged tissue finds new life, printed on demand to match the patient's unique biology. Welcome to the future of surgery, where technology and empathy intertwine to heal.