Paul was my friend. We revised together at George's and later for the MRCP, and I was lucky enough to be one of the people who first introduced him to climbing at the Castle in north London. He very quickly became a much better climber than me, as I suspect he was a better doctor and a better human. I'll never forgive myself for not keeping in touch more as our medical and personal lives grew: not from any misplaced ideas that I could have helped him any more than the amazing people whose love surrounded him, but from simple selfish loss and the fact that I let someone amazing slowly drift out of my life. The thoughts here are testament to a life wholly and richly lived, to a person grounded in love and kindness and talent and responsibility and joy, and to the ongoing tragedy that medicine continually fails to look after its own. My thoughts are with all those that knew and loved Paul, but most of all with my friend who I miss.