First the doctor was diagnosed with a heart disorder, and then her son became dangerously unwell … How did it feel to be on the other side of the operating table?

Nothing thrills me more than the human body. But, until my mid-20s, it didn’t cross my mind that someone like me could become a doctor. There were no medics in my family. I was slow at maths and science, and gave them up before the age of 16. After school, I decided on an English degree, because it was what I found easiest.

Then, in my final year, something important happened. A few of us were hanging out at a friend’s house one evening when his dad, a surgeon from London, arrived to stay for the weekend. Over dinner, we all sat enthralled as he told us stories of his hospital life. He fetched a surgical textbook from his bag, full of photos of some of his favourite operations, and I remember sitting at the kitchen table late into the night, poring over these luminous images, skin peeled back to reveal muscle and bone, tumours and blood vessels. It was my first glimpse of real anatomy, and I was astounded by its beauty.