THE MEDICAL STUDENT

So near to Christmas and here was I, making my last journey of the year to Dundee. The waiting-room windows at Drem Station were covered in ice, and the puny electric heater gave out as much warmth as a wet finger-bandage. I stared glumly ahead of me as the commuters gathered to catch the 06:54 to Edinburgh. A couple of them arrived by bike – crass insanity with the temperature at -8 degrees Celsius. They were instantly recognisable – teardrop helmets, spectacles, high visibility coats and smug, holier-than-thou expressions. The class 322 arrived on time. Craigentinny carriage sidings were silent, the little diesel shunter dead on the track, with nothing to shunt. The 07:30 Edinburgh to Inverurie started from Platform 18 and not 16. I had to ask the porter where Platform 18 was, because I couldn’t see it. I sat at a twin seat facing the engine. At the table in front, a young man was chattering to a young female colleague. He was a management accountant, and proved himself on the journey to be a fast man with a fiduciary issue. He was the young, thrusting type of chap that does three sets of accounts before breakfast. The train filled up at Haymarket. A young man of about twenty sat next to me. He appeared to be wearing a similar suit to mine. I wondered if he had paid £49 at Asda for his. He set down a book on the folding tray that passes for a table on these class 170s. He looked nervous, tense. The book was entitled “ISC Medical: Interview Skills Consulting.” He was going for an interview, perhaps to a medical school, and he wanted to brush up on his interview technique! Now here was something interesting. I glanced at his ticket – Aberdeen – a long way to go for an interview. The book was 200 pages thick. I couldn’t dream up 200 general questions, let alone medical ones. I wondered if he had set aside two days for his interview. We trundled onto the magnificent Forth Bridge. I could see nothing but a few firefly lights over in the direction of Burntisland. The girl and trolley rumbled into the carriage and I bought a cup of coffee. The train was too full for me to ask without embarrassment for a receipt, so I didn’t. Heavy snow still covered the Fife line-side, but the gash in the sky to the east suggested the day would be clear. I glanced again at the medical student. He was still reading his book. There was a separate question on each page and a suggested answer underneath it. He read: “What attracts you most and least about your medical school?” He stared out in front of him – he found that tricky – the old conundrum – be too effusive with praise and the interview panel starts to smell a rat, but be too niggardly and run the risk offending them. Best to go for a bland answer full of ‘ifs, buts and maybes.’ The light had improved enough for me to see a set of footprints in the virgin snow on a farmer’s field as we started to drift inland. I hoped they found the bloke to whose boots they belonged. “What are the attributes of a good team leader?” Ah, that was easier. Loyalty, for one – but, hang on, no – no-one has any time for loyalty nowadays – if your staff don’t perform, you sack ‘em, that’s the modern way. Charisma? Oh, no – you have to be an automaton and so politically correct that you have to say ‘Doo Wah Diddy’ was sung by Personfred Person. The Management Accountant had been joined by a serious bespectacled chap, I think a tax inspector, at Kircaldy. He had a female companion, too. The Management Accountant and the Tax Inspector started to compete with each other when talking to their female companions, who couldn’t get a word in edgeways, both talking faster and faster and louder and louder until I thought their hair would explode. Then both of their mobile phones went off simultaneously and they tripped over each other on the way to the vestibule to answer them. I could hear the women colleagues giggling from where I sat. The Medical Student flipped over the page. “Tell us about an interesting book that you have recently read or film that you have recently seen.” Ah, the old double-whammy – get the chap thinking about medical matters- scalpels, gastritis, bell-jars, drips, anaesthetics, that sort of thing, and slip him one between the eyes in the form of an innocent question about his leisure activities. The only answer here would be the great fall-back – “never have time to read because of study and work, and the last film seen was “Star Trek IV – The Voyage Home” eight years ago on VCR, when studying the leadership potential of alien races such as Vulcans”. Failing that: “Travels with a Bag – Dr Finlay’s Casebook,” by AJ Cronin for favourite book and “Doctor at Sea” for favourite film. Never fall into the trap of nominating “Carry on Nurse” – far too lowbrow. We lurched out onto the Tay Bridge, still I think the longest rail bridge over a stretch of water in Europe. I glanced at the Medical Student and saw him turn hopelessly to question 93: “How does medicine now compare with 100 years ago?” That one was easy – it would be barely drinkable.