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I, Doctor

Pulse's brand-new blogger Dr Kevin Hinkley begins his surreal series 'Through the K hole', offering a sideways look at life in general practice.

She returned early from her shift at the hospital where she worked as a registrar.

Her migraine had started dully at first, a seed above her left eye which had now blossomed and was sending flashing scintillations across her forehead.

Thick, sluggish waves of peristaltic pain radiated from her neck to the top of her head and they were now accompanied by nausea; pain's faithful handmaiden.

The doctor's symptoms were not helped by the regular, low pitched throbbing sound that came from the Science and Medical Institute that had been built opposite her flat. For 24 hours a day the fans and coolers and machinery whirred and thrummed, emitting a relentless heart beat of sound that fanned out over the surrounding buildings.

She got into the shower, hoping that the warm water would relieve her, hoping to escape the noise of the Institute. On her neck, normally hidden by her black hair, was the faint tattoo of a number and what looked like a bar code. She lent forward to shave her legs and distracted by her migraine she carelessly nicked her skin. There was no pain and no blood.

Instead, a thick, curd like resin oozed from the wound. The resin, like her arteries that conveyed it, like her heart that pumped it, had been designed and made inside the Institute.

As she stood at the window, drying her hair, looking out, she noticed that the iron gates to the science block had swung open. Every August a freshly manufactured cohort filed out and as they went by she noticed that they all looked similar to her, all with the same pensive expression, all clutching their medical degrees and heading toward the future.

Dr Kevin Hinkley is a GP in Aberdeen

Through the K hole - credit HaPe Gera, Flickr Through the K hole - credit HaPe Gera, Flickr