‘This Is Going to Hurt’ mixes comedy and drama. It dives into life of a junior doctor in NHS. Expect laughs and tears. It shows ups and downs of healthcare work. Reality of being a doctor today is no joke, but this show makes it relatable. Enjoy!

Meet the characters from This Is Going to Hurt

Adam Kay

Adam is a blisteringly honest, painfully funny wreck of a doctor who somehow turns exhaustion and regret into punchlines — you can hear him narrating the chaos between his teeth. He’s brilliant and compassionate when the world lets him be, but also snarky, defensive and liable to make a joke at the exact wrong moment (then feel guilty about it for days). He keeps a mental catalogue of every ridiculous thing that’s happened on a shift, and also that one time he cried into a trolley of theatre gowns — or was it a bin? He’s equal parts parade-ground cynic and soft-hearted disaster, and yes, he probably does keep a stash of celebratory biscuits in his locker for when something only slightly less awful happens.

Mr Lockhart

Mr Lockhart is the sort of consultant you love to hate and secretly follow on Instagram if he had one — imperious, immaculate, and terrifyingly sure of himself. He wields authority like a scalpel and has that old-school charisma that can calm a theatre or ruin a trainee’s confidence in two sentences flat. Underneath the swagger there’s a scintilla of competence so blinding you forgive him for the patronising quips, though also he will definitely steal your pen and call it “for safekeeping.” He’s the archetypal brilliant bully — infuriating, sometimes inspiring, and always leaving you with a story to tell (and a small bruise on your ego).

Veronique

Veronique is a midwife/ward legend — pragmatic, impossibly experienced, and with this soft but fierce energy that makes everyone listen, even consultants. She swears like a poet and can soothe a terrified new parent with one look, but will also loudly mock hospital paperwork like it personally insulted her grandmother. She seems to know the answer to every baby-related emergency and also every gossip about who’s dating who; charmingly contradictory, honestly. Also, I’m pretty sure she collects tea towels with baby animals on them, which is both practical and extremely endearing.

Shruti

Shruti is the quietly intense one who reads journals in the on-call room and will quietly dismantle a problem while humming, and you absolutely want her on your team. She’s brilliant, no-nonsense, and secretly sentimental — will roll her eyes at a trainee and then bring them soup when they’re down (don’t tell—she’s stubborn about kindness). She can be prickly if you cross a professional line but will fight tooth and nail for patients; also terrible at small talk, bless her. Sometimes she’s infuriatingly organized and sometimes she leaves her stethoscope in the building for a week — human, talented, and real.

Tracy

Tracy is like the heart of the ward — warm, bossy in a maternal way, and somehow the person who knows where every missing chart, pen, and colleague is hiding. She will scold you for working too hard, hand you a cup of tea that fixes nothing and everything, and then tell a story that makes you laugh until you cry. She’s practical to the core but also has this tiny, rebellious streak (karaoke night, anyone?) that you would never expect from her uniformed exterior. Honestly, she’s the kind of person who turns the place from a hospital into a messy, loving family, whether it asked for it or not.

Julian

Julian is the unflappable senior registrar who speaks in calm bullets and makes difficult decisions look like routine paperwork — except when he doesn’t, and then he’ll pace for a minute and come back more composed, which is impressive. He’s annoyingly dependable (in the best way), precise as a watch, and has an unsettlingly soothing way of describing a catastrophe. He can be remote, yes, but he also remembers the tiny details about your life that prove he’s paying attention, just in a very secretive way. Also he secretly laughs at terrible puns and will defend his lunch with suspicious ferocity, which humanizes him a bit.

Erika Van Hegen

Erika Van Hegen is the ice-queen consultant — brilliant, rigorously clinical, and the sort of person whose name makes trainees clutch their notes and apologize for breathing wrong. She’s terrifying in the best possible way: exacting, uncompromising, and deeply impressive, but also the person who will quietly back you up when it counts (and then immediately forget to let you tell anyone, because pride). She has this taste for order — immaculate handwriting, immaculate shoes — but will also inexplicably have an enormous stack of chocolate wrappers in her drawer, which is both suspicious and delightful. Honestly, she’s the kind of mentor who makes you a better doctor by sheer osmotic pressure and a few sharp words.

Harry

Harry is the lovable chaos of the rota — forever joking, slightly late, and somehow the colleague who makes night shifts bearable with terrible playlists and better timing. He’s competent-ish (very competent when it matters), full of banter, and has that annoying habit of making you laugh when you’re supposed to be terrified. He’s loyal to a fault and absolutely the first to stage a ridiculous morale-boosting stunt, then be mortified he agreed to it five minutes later. Also he collects novelty socks and will argue passionately about obscure 90s pop lyrics, which is oddly endearing.