I have a new favourite medical drama – and now I want to have a nasty accident in Pittsburgh | Adrian Chiles

I do like a TV doctor. I’m not talking about proper doctors who sit on studio sofas dispensing wisdom. I’ve nothing against them – why, I worked with Dr Hilary Jones on ITV and he was a very nice chap – but it’s to fictional doctors I want to entrust my care.

I’ve not always felt this way. Either the standard of fictional TV medics has improved or, more likely, I’m losing the plot. It’s a relatively recent thing. I never watched ER, for some reason, and I find Casualty to be quite entertaining without ever fantasising about being rushed into Holby City hospital for emergency treatment. As for being treated by the staff of Grey’s Anatomy, that would be fine, but the constant playing of pop songs at key moments would get on my nerves. Nurse Jackie? Jackie Peyton and Dr O’Hara are a compelling nurse-doctor pairing, but too unhinged for me to take the risk with them. Shame, but I’ve got to be sensible.

There’s only one place I want to take my accident-and-emergency requirements. Be it a mere ankle sprain or a full-on life-threatener, to Pittsburgh is where I’ll be heading. The Pitt, on HBO, is on a different level.

It’s not so much like watching drama as being in one. I feel so close to the doctors, from the trainees to the top dog, that first and foremost I want to be friends with them. Although, understanding the need to keep our doctor-patient relationships professional, I appreciate this won’t be possible.

It’s in their capacity as doctors I want to engage with them. If I had a nasty accident in Pittsburgh – I haven’t ruled out going there to try to make this happen – and I woke up in that emergency room, I’d be absolutely made up. Seriously, even knowing they are actors and not doctors, I’d be very happy to have their medical attention. Perhaps not for actual surgery – that would be silly – but for general diagnosis and a bit of stitching or some such, bring it on.

I’ve given some thought as to my top picks. Naturally, it depends on the nature of my emergency, but at my bedside I’d go for Frank Langdon. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but he has bags of experience and he’s dealing very bravely with his drug-dependency problem. Alongside him I’d want Cassie McKay: no nonsense, but compassionate with it. And I would, of course, be hoping against hope that my case was complex or nasty enough to warrant them calling out for Dr Robbie to come over and have a look. No further intervention would be necessary. Two minutes with him would see me rise from my bed and walk away, right as rain.

As for my primary-care needs, geographically challenging though it would be, as it’s 3,600 miles away, my GP would be on the Cornish coast. There’s no one for me but Doc Martin’s Dr Martin Ellingham. I’ve only recently come across this classic, thanks to my mum, whom I gently mocked when I found her watching it. One episode and I was hooked.

I had it down as chocolate-box fluff, but there’s more to it than that. The doctor is engagingly misanthropic and some of the storylines and themes are decidedly dark. I went back to the beginning and I am binge-watching all 79 episodes. I love it so much that I interviewed its creator, Dominic Minghella. While he was naturally pleased at my enthusiasm, I got the sense that even he thought I might be going a little over the top.

But Martin Clunes’ Dr Ellingham is exactly what I want from a GP. Enough of the kindly, understanding family doctor guff; I want someone skilled, but also impatient, abrupt, direct and unpardonably rude. Just give it to me straight. And if Doc Martin can’t help, he can pack me off to Pittsburgh to do the rest.

Adrian Chiles is a broadcaster, writer and Guardian columnist