All by Dr Duncan Veasey
Here’s a taster. The very first patient I had to examine the next year, resplendent in a white coat that didn’t smell of chip fat, (me, not the patient), seemed quite well, but I just couldn’t find a pulse and I had read the early parts of Hutchinson’s how to do everything. What sort of trainee doctor cannot take a pulse?
In 1970, as a callow seventeen-and-a-half-year old, I first set foot in Charterhouse Square in black cord jacket, old school tie and desert boots, the fashion at the time. I expect I was wearing trouserings of some sort and I was carrying an overlarge brief case my dear mother had given to her doctor to be. I stepped into the formidable presence of Professor Rotblat who interviewed all of his 1st M.B. students personally.
