I'm in London now, after ages.

My dad came up to Colchester and decided we ought to go see Arturo Ui which was being produced by the local company. I didn't know much about Bertolt Brecht, so this will all sound uninformed and dumb - but it was a revelation. My dad called him the 'Marxist Shakespeare of Germany' (my dad will describe any ( Read more... )

So.

On Thursday, after the amazing kid experience, and the drug rep giving me a second stethoscope (what are they like, buses?) Rebecca, Colin (who is not a medical student, is seeing a friend of mine, works at Colchester General and is older than us) and I went to this Colin-recommended pub called The Yew Tree. Rebecca drove me there (her having ( Read more... )

( Colchester is the Berlin of Essex. )

I don't know what I want to be when I grow up and it is stressful sometimes. I mean, I'm spending all this money, which isn't mine, on this medical yay-no-lectures-tomorrow-and-I-haven't-finished-my-essays-yet education, and I know it'll be a while before I can repay it, so I want it to be worth something, which makes me think I should really have ( Read more... )

[scene: the vascular clinic. Enter Mr Browne, courageous surgical consultant whose name commands admiration, fear and wonder across the hospital and internationally; followed by Potato, dumb medical student self-styling as a vegetable.]

Mr Browne: What's DNA?
Potato: 'Did Not Attend'?
Mr Browne: No
Potato: Deoxyribo Nucleic Acid?
Mr Browne: No
( Read more... )