I don't want to appear arrogant. I just am - and not without reason.
Let me explain. The merger clearly wasn't a complete success. Medics and non-medics haven't integrated as well as one could have hoped, and the non-medics yell out that we think we're 'better' than they are. The politicians amongst us reply that we're 'not better, just different'. You've heard the arguments (a tight-knit community, longer course, more tutorial-based, work with the same people for life) and of course we're different. But the longer I spend here the more I realise that we're also better. Bear with me.
I wouldn't wish this on you, but assume you get ill. Really, massively, critically ill. The kind of ill where you've got tubes in every orifice; where a machine's doing your breathing and drugs are gushing into your veins from a nest of drips. You'll hope your doctor is good. You'll want the Consultant to possess one of the finest analytical brains in the land. You'll be delighted to hear that the senior doctors in London's major hospitals do indeed tend to be blisteringly intelligent. And they started out as intelligent medical students.
And we do tend to have good brains. I know some of you lot can perform calculus at breakneck speed and speak twelve different computer languages; but it doesn't actually mean you've got a good brain, you're just overdeveloped in some tedious field or another. I wouldn't actually find you a riveting dinner party guest now would I?
Medics are picked out at a super-selective interview: we're the cream. I don't know if they actually interview non-medics. I'd doubt it - I've met some of you. Christ. And they're not just looking for brains in the interview; you've also got to be personable and adept at communication. What's more, you must have something else besides - we're chosen according to what we can contribute to Medical School life. Wonder why the department has such phenomenal musicians, actors and sportsmen? Wonder why civil engineering doesn't? They've chosen us specifically because we're better at all this.
I'm a typical medic. You write for Felix? Well done, I write for Radio 4. You play a musical instrument? Congratulations, I teach them. You're a bit of a debater; think you can construct a good argument? Have a chat with me, I'll intellectually rape you. I'll hang you with your own clumsy wordplay.
I'm not boasting - I'm nothing special compared to rest of the Medical School. We've all got something else to offer - and it's obvious by looking at what we do in our spare time. It's why Materials doesn't produce three plays a year and why Chemistry doesn't field 25 separate sports teams. I look forward to seeing the EEE Light Opera Society or the Maths Revue. We can do it, and you can't. So naturally, we're a bit reluctant to integrate - we don't want to be diluted by you lot.
Don't take this personally. I'm sure that you're a very nice person. I'm sure you're one of these people who do everything I mention and more. But think of your year in general. In general, they don't. In general, we do. Because we're better. Deal with it.
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