I’m no Orthopaedic Surgeon but I have a bone to pick with Ndumiso Ngcobo. This past Sunday the teacher turned blogger turned Times columnist focused his attention on some of his best friends, doctors.
In essence Ngcobo asserts that doctors have no personality. That we are as bland as rice cakes or the people who write Sunday columns for the slow dying print media. Some colleagues have assured me that Ndumiso is merely being tongue in cheek, call it professional disagreement but my diagnosis is head up arse.
In his article, which you can find here, Ngcobo descbribes how his mother would have liked him to become a medical practitioner, a feat prevented only by his own laziness. Then again life can pass you by while in a comfy armchair from which you criticize the world. Failing to discover a medical career Ndumiso is now forced to suffer being surrounded by several doctors clamouring for his attention whilst making bad jokes and worse dinner conversation.
Mr Ngcobo’s assertion is that “one can either choose to have a charming personality or get a medical degree. Not both”. He goes on to say that we can’t be funny and aren’t good looking. Someone please let Riaad Moosa and Michael Mol know of this revelation. I will concede that when doctors get together the conversation is often medical. Just like whenever there’s a doctor at the table everyone without medical training forgets their boundaries and thinks it’s acceptable to ask about their genital discharge.
Then again I really shouldn’t be offended. Not only is Ndumiso Ngcobo’s theory as flawed as the plot in a Twilight film, but his best work from this past week will be in a bin by Tuesday. My best work, and that of my colleagues, gets to celebrate another birthday.