Doctor Who?

A patient is spouting some incoherent babble, the GP is trying to tease some sense out of them, and behind him I'm using every iota of mid-morning energy to keep my eyes open. I casually wonder if I'm creasing my shirt more than necessary so I bring a stop to my slide towards the floor and focus on the conversation. They seem to be discussing a Dr Thomas. They both know this medical man and are acting as if I should too.

After a few minutes of racking my brains—not easy at the best of times—I decided to ask after this Dr Thomas as soon as the patient has left. I settle on the form of the question (“This er Dr Thomas you mentioned what field of medicine is he in?”) and bide my time. Luckily, the very faintest waft of caffeinated fumes reaches me just in time and I realise that I am Dr Thomas. A potentially humiliating episode is narrowly averted once more.

Later, after some coffee, I sat in a state of mild panic. Dr Thomas sounds like a competent bloke. I can picture a fellow in a nice tie, carrying a folder, and striding confidently down a corridor. Dr Thomas has patients! What's more, he is able to offer them all the advice and treatment that they need. Dr Thomas is the very model of friendly professional reliability. James Thomas is someone entirely different. He's been in full time education for over 80% of his life. He's never earned a penny. He doesn't have a nice tie or even a folder to carry and any striding in a corridor is almost certainly in the wrong direction. Any attempt to call James Thomas “Doctor” would be ridiculous. Irresponsible even. In fact, it should probably be illegal.

However, in just a matter of months, this absurdity will happen up and down the country. Some will cope superbly; some will struggle; some will flounder; most will ultimately manage. Some will crash and burn. So, as I prepare to wave goodbye to studenthood, I wonder which group I'll belong to. Only time will tell.

So long. I'll see you on the other side. Brace yourselves