Dr Prit Buttar's consultation room has bright yellow walls - a colour he chose himself.

The walls, coupled with a homely rug and wilting pot plant abandoned in the corner, make for a relaxed atmosphere.

And it certainly seems to reflect the interaction he has with patients who pass through his doors at Abingdon Surgery, on the town's busy one-way system in Stert Street.

Dr Buttar's job, like other GPs, calls for a multitude of skills - let alone the vast medical knowledge required for a family doctor. Today he is counsellor, diplomat, father-figure, disciplinarian and friend.

And it's this variety he loves about his work.

He says: "I love this long-term relationship and continuity of care. It's a real privilege. Just for the pride of coming into work I get to see every aspect of human behaviour."

Dr Buttar did his pre-medical training at Oxford University before qualifying at King's College, London. His studies were funded by the Army, and in return he served as a military doctor for five years.

It was as a soldier that he completed his on-the-job training as an orthopaedic surgeon.

He said: "I realised I was a people person, so at that point I swapped to general practice, and I've been doing this for about 16 years."

Dr Buttar is a senior partner at Abingdon Surgery - one of three full-time doctors, three part-time, three nurses, a healthcare assistant and a plethora of support staff.

All play a role in keeping 10,500 registered patients healthy.

Dr Buttar's day starts with morning surgery, in which he sees 11 patients scheduled for an appointment.

Like most practices, each patient is allocated approximately 10 minutes with the doctor, but none are ejected when their official time is up, and most surgeries balance out by the end of the session.

As a result, Dr Buttar is happy to chat for longer, and often coaxes extra information out of his patients via a friendly chat.

One woman recently came to see him for a routine check-up and at the end of her consultation - following an informal conversation - admitted her children were nagging her about a huge mole on her leg.

It had been there for years, and she had never done anything about it. Further tests showed it was cancerous.

Dr Buttar explains: "Chatting to patients helps us build a personal service with them. It's an opportunity for them to talk and adds a bit of humanity to our work. But there's a clinical benefit too."

He is worried that, following Lord Darzi's announcement that GPs could soon be asked to work in the evening and at weekends, this personal service could be lost.

He said: "If I have to work in the evenings or at weekends, patients won't be able to see me during the day. We'd lose that personal relationship.

"The Government's drive towards a more accessible health service will mean it's much less personal."

In a normal day Dr Buttar fits in two surgeries (morning and afternoon), home visits across a wide rural area, and emergency appointments.

As a teaching practice, he manages to offer an hour's tutorial with a medical student, flick through tens of pathology results - blood, urine and the like - and sign a pile of repeat prescriptions.

He also has to scour the paperwork threatening to swamp his desk, including outpatient letters, private medical requests and more diagnostic results, and write referral letters to hospital consultants generated by that day's appointments.

In between, he must ensure patients are checked for high blood pressure, cholesterol levels, diabetes and other nasties, which are easily treated to prevent larger, more devastating conditions, like stroke and heart attack.

With so much to juggle, it's amazing Dr Buttar - and anyone in his profession - has time to give human comfort to patients. But that's the icing on the cake.

During the day, some patients seem to have little immediately wrong with them, and sit in the consultation room demanding general support and succour.

One woman with numerous personal problems has a back operation the following week. Dr Buttar offers advice and promises to keep in touch.

That's just the happy side of Dr Buttar's human face. He must also deal with chronic illness and death.

He says: "My general policy is to be as honest as I can. I'll always give a straight answer. What'll be different is whether I volunteer information. That depends on the patient.

"If I receive bad news from a hospital consultant or from test results I'll drive round and see the patient at their home on the same day.

"I'll let them arrange a follow-up at the surgery, giving them time to let it sink in first."

The pay-off for such emotional work? A "six-figure" salary (according to the British Medical Association, GPs earn on average £95,000), a zippy sports car with leather interiors, and private education for his children.

And Dr Buttar admits he's usually home by 6.30pm - except when he's duty doctor in the evening.

But that seems small reward for his 50-hour week ensuring the well-being of hundreds of people.