‘OK… sure.’ I half-smile at the two students, who immediately shuffle forward to get a better look at me.

‘Thank you, Alexandra.’ Dr Harlow attempts an amiable smile but it’s so forced it makes her look constipated.

‘It’s Alex.’ I bristle slightly, not used to hearing my full name, and not particularly liking it.

‘Of course.’ Dr Harlow purses her badly liplined lips. ‘Shall we get on then? Firstly, I know you have been through this a few times, but would you mind awfully telling me what happened to you yesterday?’

Really? Why does no one write this stuff down? I sigh inwardly to hide my frustration.

‘Yes, I can do that,’ I reply. ‘I was out for a run yesterday lunchtime, something I’ve been doing regularly for the last few months…’

I reluctantly take Dr Harlow through my well-worn story from beginning to end. She doesn’t ask any questions, just listens intently, giving absolutely nothing away, while her protégés watch on, totally mesmerised.

‘So, tell me, how are you feeling today?’ she asks once I’m done. ‘Any more nausea? Double vision? How are you feeling generally?’

I do a quick self-check. ‘I’m OK. Felt a bit nauseous at breakfast time, but I kept down my orange juice, so that’s good. No more double vision.’ I hold up my index finger in front of my eyes to confirm this. ‘I only had that before the fall. Afterwards, everything was just really blurred, but that only lasted a few hours. Generally, I’m all right, other than a sore head, some fatigue and difficultly concentrating. Probably just be a cold coming on.’

‘I see.’ Dr Harlow nods, while the two students seem to lean in even further. ‘And these symptoms: the double vision, the fatigue. Have you had them before, Alexandra?’

Seriously? She can get a medical degree, but she can’t remember what name to call me by? I furrow my brow but refrain from pointing this out. Probably best I keep her on side if I want to get home today.

‘Not that I can remember.’ I try to recount any similar episodes, but nothing comes to mind. ‘I’ve been fatigued like this before, but that’s just been my body fighting off some kind of cold or viral infection that’s doing the rounds at work. I don’t get properly ill that often. Lucky that way. My fiancé says if I wasn’t so damn clumsy, I’d be the perfect package.’

‘Have you always been clumsy?’ Dr Harlow asks.

I mull this over. ‘Eh… no, actually. It’s pretty much just been the last few years. It’s because I’m so busy with work and other stuff. Always having to do everything on fast-forward.’

My eyes dart to the male student, who’s had some kind of spontaneous reaction to this statement as if what I’ve said excites him. The moment he clocks my curious glance, his expression turns to one of fright, then stone.

‘Tell me more about that, Alexandra.’ Dr Harlow zones in on me. ‘In what way are you clumsy?’