The last day for my student. They stay for 2 weeks at a time, and usually there are 2 of them. For some reason this one was a singleton, which is actually a lot less stressful. I check his current events and cultural knowledge as I tend to on the last day, as I think it's important that doctors are in touch and have a reasonably broad cultural base. Some of them, however, are appallingly lapse in either or both of these areas, but this lad is above average, not only academically but also in these broader fields. I sign his attendance sheet (his was perfect)but am unable to grade him, as the examiners are keener on knowing whether they have turned up than how good they are when they get here.
This afternoon I have a coffee with an old friend whose wife is very ill with myeloma. This is a kind of gratis counselling session, but I don't mind: he's one of my oldest friends and really needs this form of support. Midway through our conversation at a Coffee #1 outlet a young man comes over to our table and, clipboard in hand, asks if he can speak to us for a few minutes. In unison we both say "Actually, no, sorry" I can honestly say I have never seen anyone look quite so crestfallen at being rejected as he did at that moment. He retreated to his own table and sat there enshrouded in a pall of gloom for many minutes before getting up to leave.
Friday, 12 March 2010
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