Читать книгу Confessions of a Doctor - Stanley Feldman - Страница 10

When I first arrived at the medical school, the dean, Sir Adolph Abrahams, was a distinguished physician of the old school. His brother was Harold Abrahams, the 1938 Olympic medallist of Chariots of Fire fame. The only times I ever saw him were in the library when, always attired in the pin-striped trousers and black jacket that were de rigueur for a gentleman of his distinction, he would invariably be reading the morning papers – even in mid-afternoon. When his brother joined him he would hold forth like any grumpy old man on any topical inequity or on how far the personal habits of the students had degenerated since his times. Unfortunately they were both pretty deaf, so their quiet, private conversations would echo at high decibel level around the hallowed quiet of the library, much to the amusement of the students.

Sir Adolph was succeeded by Dean Harding, a handsome, approachable orthopaedic surgeon who was a bachelor and a misogynist. I never discovered his first name: he was always fondly known simply as ‘Dean’. He was totally different from his predecessor – whereas Sir Adolph was aloof, Dean Harding was one of the boys. He enjoyed the students’ jokes and the sense of fun and high spirits. On one occasion, when he was attending a rather drunken party at a flat occupied by a group of senior students, there was a police raid. A neighbour had complained about the noise and suggested the house was being used as a brothel. As the police arrived the dean was being smuggled down the back stairs. The next day he received an official complaint from the local constabulary. He assured them, with due solemnity, that appropriate steps would be taken to punish the offenders.

The deans of the medical schools were always on the lookout for potential donors who would endow a new facility for the school. So it was that the dean of a nearby medical school readily agreed to host a lunch for a visiting Arab potentate and his retinue before accompanying them, in their limousine, to an inter-hospital rugby match. Promises of lifelong friendship and support were exchanged amidst champagne and savouries. It was only when the ‘before and after’ pictures were printed in the college magazine that the dean recognised the Sultan as one of his own students and the retinue as students from other medical schools, all in flowing robes and hired fancy dress.