““Professional hospital attire” is a tricky zone, leading the naive to the default options you’d find in a Target workwear catalogue. The result? A young adult awkwardly masquerading as a thirty-something from the corporate world.”
“It’s not that clear cut though. Have you seen my CV? It’s simply glorious. Magnificent. Two-time Olympic gold medallist. CEO of my own billion-dollar start-up. And 2000 hours of volunteering to boot. What’s not to love?
Yet against all odds, I’m sitting out here, a diamond in the rough. I’ve got no idea what went wrong with the selection process.”
“I mean, I figured that because I never gave them my bank details I wouldn’t get roped into anything too bad. I only gave them my name, address, date of birth, signature, driver’s license number, fingerprints and a mouth swab – you know, the usual. It’s not much to hand over when you’re given something sick in exchange. Look at it, it’s glass!”
by JUMAANA ABDU (edited by ROSEMARY KIRK) Following are some highs and lows from my first few weeks as a third-year medical student. Medicine really does grant us the privilege of a most unique and intimate insight into human pain, crisis and – sometimes – hilarity. All patient ages have