Don’t pretend you hate LMSS, we all fancy medic boys really

They’re just so good with their hands

liverpool liverpool medics LMSS medical students medics medigate student students uni university university of liverpool UoL

They might be the most hated on campus, but there’s something about stethoscopes that turns on the heat.

Medics aren’t that popular on campus right now. Not that they’ve ever been. We all know they fall into the category of vets, vegans and people who ask questions at the end of seminars. But even with that stigma, you can’t deny everyone’s guilty secret: we all find medics hot.

Turtlenecks are hot OK

Oh, the shame. Is it the underlying arrogance, the all consuming medical cliques and/or the potential future pay load? Something about those scrubs just turns everyone on. Forget #medigate –  you want to be deratified if it means you can spend time with the LMSS men. As much as we all pretend to hate them with the rest of the guild-loving-fanatics of campus, those clinical skills garms and that confident air of being an absolute twat and loving it is weirdly attractive.

You barely see or talk to them (maybe that’s the problem), but a rare glimpse of the Adonis’ of campus boys and your legs go wobbly. They can have a confidential consultation with us any day.

Maybe its a case of liking what you can’t have, because realistically they’re way too busy to date an arts student and they only date each other. Maybe it’s because they’re always lugging massive books around, so you know they’re going to be strong, rugged and masculine. Or maybe its some weird reverse psychology and all that exclusion as they walk around chatting about medic rugby, medic polo and medic dinners makes you desperately want to be involved in their secret lives.

Ladies Men

Realistically, they’re the perfect future partner. Choose a good one, and you’re guaranteed at minimum a NHS GP’s salary of £61,250 a year for your household, and at maximum,  £180, 500 a year if you successfully pick the one who ends up as a private healthcare consultant. Plus, you won’t have to see them that much what with late night shifts until they can afford a big enough house that you still don’t have to see them that much. A perfect situation? I think so. Gold-digger and proud over here.

And even when they’re still at uni, there’s significant pros to medic dating. Let’s talk about their anatomical knowledge, girls. What could be more alluring than someone naming all your body parts in latin? Than them knowing the symptoms you have could be due to tuberculosis, emphysema or just a smokers cough? Than the constant reminder, day and night that they’re “a medic, you know”?

What’s more sexy than the knowledge that your partner-in-crime can save your life if you have a sudden anaphylactic reaction to their overbearing superiority complex? They’d be sympathetic to the worries of contraception, they’d understand god damn periods. And before you tell me that the NHS online symptom checker is the perfect virtual partner for my lusty cravings remember that if the medical student you choose is a future surgeon, then those hands will be the best thing coming  – what more could you want?

He’s not even a real medic

If you can put up with them whispering seductively into your ear at 3:00am, telling you “I’m a medic, did you know?”, then a relationship of unregulated prescription drugs and exciting role-play awaits you. Literally, heaven. These guys are willing to put the work in for the long run, they won’t give up easily. And once you’re in the clique, you’ll never leave – they won’t let you.

And yet, and yet, attraction equals simultaneous revulsion. Because, they’re medics. Medics. The ones everyone YikYaks about being the bastards of campus, the ones who hate Harry Anderson and want him to lose his job. How can anyone so evil, so pompous, be attractive?

Yeah, I have their name on my bedroom wall.

This paradox is ruining my life. I want to hate them but I can’t.  It’s like fancying Leonardo Di Caprio in Wolf of Wall Street or Christian Bale in American Psycho. They’re the Heathcliff to my Isabella Linton. It’s so wrong its right. And I just can’t get those stethoscopes out of my head.

So they’ll always remain ovary-explodingly attractive and yet the last person I’d want to be seen with. The lustful thrill down my spine when I catch one snidely commenting on Guild decisions on Facebook. The ones we all want but can’t have, and can’t say we want.

Maybe we could just deratify the whole medical school from the university and then I won’t have to deal with this torture.