It's a one-year job and, unlike many other colleges, the incumbent doesn't get a sabbatical year. For Murugu Manickan, president of the students' union at the RCSI, it's studies as usual this year - and you need a lot of energy and dedication to see it through.
As I spoke with him he was busy organising a special rugby match to be played at the college's sports grounds in Dardistown, Dublin. The game is played between third-years and the rest, called the Barbarians.
The standard, he says, is quite high, with students from Australia and South Africa bringing a definite southern hemisphere flavour. This year, it's being played for charity, to help the project whereby students spend time in developing countries. Funds are needed for travel and medical supplies.
At the same time he was organising the annual ball - it took place in Leopardstown on Thursday, January 18th: there is just about one month in the year when everybody isn't facing into exams or practicals, so it has to happen then.
The Crystal Ball is an apt title. Within 18 months all the people there gathered will have qualified and be heading for the four corners of the globe, and it's a time to wonder what the future will bring. It takes the five members of the SU executive plus another 15 volunteers to organise everything for this function.
Murugu is from Cleveland, Ohio. His name is Tamil, and his family are from south India. "But I am one-16th Russian," he says.
He is representative for 1,200 students, including medical/surgical, physiotherapy, undergraduate nursing and post-graduates. A very diverse grouping, ages range from 17 to 36 and they come from almost all corners of the world.
English is the language of the college and everyone is expected to be fluent, but people are on the alert in case language difficulties are proving a problem for anyone.
With such a variety of people, from the Middle East, the Far East including Malaysia and Singapore, and countries such as Norway, where the college has special arrangements for training, there is obviously a wide range of interests. One notice I saw was advertising a class by a Japanese chef in the art of making sushi.
The college has revived its student newspaper, which rejoices in the title, Shifting Dullness. Apart from its obvious meaning, it's a medical in-joke: the words are used to describe the sound of the abdomen when a patient has liver problems.
Accommodation is obviously a big issue for students: with the current property boom, rents are very high. The college has room for a little over 200 in the hall of residence which was once Mercer's Hospital, but this means that almost 1,000 students have to compete in the private sector. City-centre accommodation is preferred to cut down on commuting time. The students do have 50 car-parking spaces reserved in the car-park next door.
Dublin, says Murugu, is generally a welcoming city and most students enjoy it. Obviously, there are occasional problems which can receive a lot of publicity, but for the vast majority the experience is positive.
Students spend a full year learning how to take a patient's medical history and do a physical examination. This provides them with the training and confidence to become good clinicians. Part of this training includes spending time in at least three hospitals to get a wide experience of actual practice.
This isn't to say that the college is backward with technology: quite the contrary. All students are given laptop computers (Apple i-books) and lecture-notes and clinical slides can be downloaded from the local Internet (the intranet) through a password protected system.
There is also a growing use of palm-top computers in hospital wards, where they are proving very useful in providing a database to help diagnosis and also as a guide to drugs, and the possible effects of combining drugs.
STUDENT politics must be fitted into the busy schedule. The election campaign lasts only one week, and it's usually keenly contested. The year before the margin was only two votes, and it went to four recounts - almost as tight as that other contest in Florida. In his own case, says Murugu, the margin was more clear-cut.
There are now 40 students from north America at the college. Perhaps the current exchange rates have made Dublin a more feasible option for American students, but nearly everyone has to take out loans to pay for tuition and maintenance, and will start their professional lives in debt.
This applies equally to students from other regions: Murugu is keen to dispel the notion that everyone comes from wealthy backgrounds. It's far more likely that students have to believe in themselves and their talents, and have to go into debt to get the training they need.