Once upon a time there was a baby docling who was filled with all the excitement and anticipation that comes with the start of every adventure.
‘Twas the night before the first day on the ward. A bit like the first day at school meets Luke going off on his first mission with the rebel alliance.
The padawan doctor stepped outside from the family celebrations held in his honour to mark the coming of medical age. No longer a student but still feeling very much in the dark.
He looked at this stethoscope and his trusty little pen torch – his weapons of war, ready for battle. Fighting against disease and death along with all the other brave padawans who he had stood recently with, shoulder to shoulder pledging their allegiance to the cause during the grand ceremony marking their right of passage into the mighty halls of those that practise the art of healing.
He didn’t feel brave neither did he feel afraid. He felt ready but unsure of what was to come.
He did however wonder how long he could keep the Star Wars analogies going – foundation training takes 24 months and he was running out already of ideas.