The decision to work in medicine is basically a version of the email you get in early October asking you to choose your menu options for the work Christmas party. No doubt you'll choose the chicken, to be on the safe side, and it's more than likely everything will be all right. But what if someone shares a ghastly factory farming video on Facebook the day before and you inadvertently witness a mass debeaking? What if Morrissey dies in November and, out of respect for him, you turn your back on a lifestyle thus far devoted almost exclusively to consuming meat? What if you develop a life-threatening allergy to escalopes? Ultimately, no one knows what they'll fancy for dinner in sixty dinners' time.

Every doctor makes their career choice aged sixteen, two years before they're legally allowed to text a photo of their own genitals. When you sit down and pick your A Levels, you're set off on a trajectory that continues until you either retire or die and, unlike your work Christmas party, Janet from procurement won't swap your chicken for her halloumi skewers - you're stuck with it.

At sixteen, your reasons for wanting to pursue a career in medicine are generally along the lines of 'My mum/dad's a doctor', 'I quite like Holby City' or 'I want to cure cancer'. Reasons one and two are ludicrous, and reason three would be perfectly fine - if a little earnest - were it not for the fact that's what research scientists do, not doctors. Besides, holding anyone to their word at that age seems a bit unfair, on par with declaring the 'I want to be an astronaut' painting you did aged five as a legally binding document.

Personally, I don't remember medicine ever being an active career decision, more just the default setting for my life - the marimba ringtone, the stock photo of a mountain range as your computer background. I grew up in a Jewish family (although they were mostly in it for the food); went to the kind of school that's essentially a sausage factory designed to churn out medics, lawyers and cabinet members; and my dad was a doctor. It was written on the walls.

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