As the others file out to begin their shift, I take a moment to study our new arrival, and I’ll admit to liking what I see very much. He’s dressed in the standard uniform for junior doctors, but I can’t help noticing his strong-looking forearms. His dark wavy hair is shiny, making me suspect there’s some kind of product in it, and his brown eyes sparkle with humour. Having him under my wing for the day is going to be very pleasant.

‘Welcome to the department, Dr Milne,’ I tell him, holding out my hand. ‘I’m Tilly.’

‘Delighted to meet you, Tilly,’ he replies, gripping my hand with just the right amount of strength. ‘Please call me Luke.’

I smile. ‘I can call you Luke in here, but Dr Patel will haul me over the coals if she hears anything so informal in front of the patients.’

‘Is she always that terrifying?’

‘I wouldn’t call her terrifying, exactly. If you do everything she says and don’t upset her, she’s a pussycat.’

‘Hmm. I’ll take your word for it.’

‘Shall we go and see some patients then?’

* * *

One of the things that I love about my job is that you never find yourself clock-watching. From the moment the shift starts, you’re fully immersed and you never know what’s going to come through the door next. Peak adrenaline is when the red phone rings with a trauma call. This is how the paramedics alert us to an incoming case so serious that the trauma team needs to assemble. If you’ve ever seen one of the hundreds of hospital dramas on TV, you’ll have seen people running alongside stretchers as they try to hook up drips and yell medical terms such as ‘intubate’ at each other. Thankfully, the reality is a little less dramatic. Everybody is in position before the ambulance arrives, and we work quickly and quietly to try to stabilise the patient as swiftly as we can. Of course, we don’t always succeed, and that’s tough, particularly when the patient is young, but you don’t generally get time to dwell on it because the next emergency is usually just around the corner.

Today is no different. No sooner has the motorcycle accident victim gone down to surgery than his place is taken by an elderly woman who has fractured her hip as a result of a fall at home. She looks pale and frightened, and seems confused about where she is and what’s happening to her.

‘I don’t rate her chances,’ Luke mutters to me conspiratorially as I do her observations.

‘One thing I’ve learned from my time here is that you can never predict a patient’s journey,’ I tell him equally quietly.

‘Yeah, but hip fractures are usually the beginning of the end for old people, aren’t they?’