Acute di­ag­no­sis

Sunday Tasmanian - Tassie Living - - Dvds - DEBBIE SCHIPP Young Doc­tors, WIN, Wed­nes­day, 8pm

CALL him the re­luc­tant Mc­steamy.

Rory Gled­hill thought he was sign­ing up for a doc­u­men­tarystyle pro­gram about life as a young in­tern at New­cas­tle’s John Hunter Hos­pi­tal.

Then he saw the Grey’s Anatomy- style pro­mos for WIN’S Young Doc­tors re­al­ity show – com­plete with him cast as ‘‘ the hot doc­tor’’ – and started cop­ping a rib­bing from his girl­friend and his mates.

‘‘ I said yes [ to the show] be­cause it sounded use­ful in terms of a doc­u­men­tary- style pre­sen­ta­tion,’’ says the young Ir­ish­man.

‘‘ I think sub­se­quently it didn’t ma­te­ri­alise quite as that, but the fall­out and sub­se­quent flak has been funny most of the time.

‘‘ There has been the odd thing where I think ‘ I re­ally re­gret that’.’’

De­spite the pro­mos, Gled­hill doesn’t think he’s a nat­u­ral on tele­vi­sion – and cer­tainly says his pro­fes­sion is far from glam­orous.

‘‘ Some of the nick­names that have been bandied around ... the Mc­steamy rub­bish . . . I can’t think of any job which is less glam­orous,’’ he says.

‘‘ Half the time you are deal­ing with peo­ple who are re­ally crook, and ei­ther have vomit or crap or some­thing else com­ing out.

‘‘ My girl­friend thinks it’s hi­lar­i­ous – she sees me at the end of a week of night­shifts when you cer­tainly don’t feel glam­orous, much less look glam­orous.’’

Glam­orous or not, Gled­hill and his co­horts were keen to join the se­ries that chron­i­cles their work in one of Aus­tralia’s busiest hos­pi­tals.

He ad­mits long shifts meant oc­ca­sion­ally he or one of the other seven in­terns would ‘‘ for­get them­selves’’, with the risk ris­ing when they were off- duty, and speak with­out realising the mi­cro­phones were still on them.

‘‘ I ac­tu­ally thought the cam­eras would be more in­tru­sive than they were,’’ says Gled­hill of be­ing trailed day and night dur­ing shoot­ing.

House­mate and fel­low in­tern Michael Burgess agrees it was easy to ig­nore the dis­trac­tions and get on with the job.

‘‘ The first week or so was a bit of a nov­elty and it was dif­fi­cult get­ting used to hav­ing the cam­era there, and know­ing what they ex­pected of you, but the job was al­ways the pri­or­ity,’’ he says.

‘‘ The crews un­der­stood that and when it got busy I’d just head off and get the job done. So it didn’t in­ter­fere at all, re­ally.’’

Gled­hill may be a stranger to re­al­ity tele­vi­sion but not to the med­i­cal pro­fes­sion. His fa­ther is also a doc­tor and mi­grated with Gled­hill’s mother and sib­lings from Belfast to New­cas­tle about 10 years ago to take up a post as an emer­gency sur­geon at Mait­land Hos­pi­tal. Gled­hill fol­lowed about five years ago af­ter com­plet­ing two- thirds of his own med­i­cal de­gree in the UK.

With the cam­eras now gone, and an­other in­tern­ship at Tam­worth hos­pi­tal un­der his belt, Gled­hill is on the verge of choos­ing a spe­cialty. He’s con­sid­er­ing surgery but is lean­ing to­wards emer­gency depart­ment medicine and acute and in­ten­sive care.

‘‘ I’m a bet­ter fit for them than tele­vi­sion,’’ he says.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia

© PressReader. All rights reserved.