Reflection on My Medical Internship Journey

It’s been just over a month since I wrapped up my medical internship, and only now do I feel the weight of the journey settling in. Back then, life was a whirlwind of moving, budgeting, and preparing anxiously for the next chapter, leaving little room to pause and reflect. But with things quieting down, I can finally look back on a journey that began in October 2022—a journey that tested every ounce of resilience, knowledge, and empathy I had.

Groote Schuur Hospital with Lions Head mountain in the background

I started as a fresh-faced graduate, eager to dive into the challenges of a tertiary hospital in South Africa. I still remember the excitement of signing my employment contract. I showed up dressed in my best, ready to make a good impression. The intern coordinator greeted me warmly, walking me through the essentials: the departments, support structures, and even the disciplinary policies—a blunt reminder of the responsibilities that lay ahead. She gave me a hospital tour and, as a small gesture, handed me a Groote Schuur Hospital jacket, a token that made me feel truly welcome. That simple kindness energized me for the journey I was about to begin.

My first day brought a mix of achievement and panic. A nurse approached, asking me to prescribe something for a patient in pain. “Me?” I thought. “Prescribe something? What if I prescribe the wrong thing?” Flustered, I asked, “What do you think I should prescribe, mister?” He suggested paracetamol with a skeptical look, and as he walked away, I quickly double-checked the dosage on my phone to be absolutely sure. I wrote up “Paracetamol, 1g, orally, 6 hourly, for 3 days,” signed, and stamped my name on the prescription sheet, feeling a silly but profound sense of accomplishment. My first prescription as a doctor—a small moment, but one I’ll always laugh at when I think back.

From there, the real work began. My first rotation was General Surgery, an intense baptism by fire. Days were filled with pre-round clerking, ward rounds, and ward work, but it was the “hot” and “cold” calls that truly tested me. Hot calls meant admitting surgical patients in casualty, presenting them to the registrar, and assisting in emergency surgeries, while cold calls placed me in charge of the ward. Nursing staff calls were relentless, with patients needing urgent care for blocked drips, blood pressure concerns, and, on occasion, cardiac arrest. I remember my first resuscitation vividly. In the neurosurgical ward, I was racing between chest compressions, struggling with a blood gas machine six floors away, and dealing with panic rising in my chest. An emergency registrar stepped in just as I was losing hope, and together, we managed to get the patient’s heart going again, although sadly, it was too late to change the outcome.

Through experiences like these, I learned the importance of staying calm amidst the chaos. By the end of surgery, I was more capable and a little less terrified, but every call left its mark. Each one pushed me to grow, building both my endurance and my confidence.

Internal Medicine was no less grueling, though it brought a different kind of challenge. Here, I cared for many chronically ill patients, often finding myself certifying deaths rather than rushing to resuscitate. Delivering bad news to families was incredibly difficult, each call a fresh reminder of the gravity of my work. But where surgery demanded stamina, medicine demanded insight. I grew proficient in skills like ECG interpretation, reading chest X-rays, and handling everything from HIV and tuberculosis to complex chronic illnesses. Each case felt like a detective’s puzzle, blending history, physical findings, and test results into a narrative.

Despite being mentally exhausting, Internal Medicine gave me a deeper understanding of holistic care, a lesson I carried into each subsequent rotation.

Next came Paediatrics, six months into my internship. Nothing could prepare me for the emotional weight of working with children. On nights in the sub-acute ward at Red Cross Hospital, I cared for 20 children with respiratory issues and another dozen with gastrointestinal problems, all while managing admissions and taking copious notes. Being the sole intern was toiling, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t shed tears on those especially hard nights.

Paediatrics has always been a field I considered specializing in. Yet, for every heartwarming success, there was a heart-wrenching challenge. I encountered child neglect, abuse, and palliative conditions where recovery wasn’t an option. Balancing grief with resilience became essential, and while it often felt overwhelming, the joy of seeing a child recover and go home gave me hope.

Through it all, Paediatrics pushed my mental health to its limits, but I emerged with a greater appreciation for the resilience of children and the privilege of contributing to their care.

The rotation in Obstetrics and Gynecology marked the end of my first year. Here, I faced the joys and tribulations of bringing life into the world. Managing labor complications and performing C-sections honed my skills and confidence. Witnessing the courage of women during childbirth and supporting them through such vulnerable moments left a profound impact on me. Without the luxury of time, obstetrics forced me to act swiftly, often in emotionally charged situations. These moments taught me decisiveness, and cultural competency as I learned to communicate with families from diverse backgrounds.

Year Two felt lighter but just as enlightening. In Anaesthesiology, I learned to manage human physiology in real-time, balancing gases, drugs, and managing airways. Orthopedics offered a break, allowing me to practice fracture reduction and understand the basics of orthopedic procedures.

But Psychiatry at Valkenberg Hospital was a eye-opening experience. Working with acute male patients, I experienced medicine in its rawest, most human form. Every conversation demanded empathy, patience, and presence. I had to look beyond quick fixes and truly listen, building trust with patients who often came from backgrounds of trauma, stigma, or poverty. I learned the power of non-judgmental listening, a skill I know will serve me in every area of medicine.

Finally, Family Medicine brought it everything full circle, allowing me to focus on preventive care and holistic patient-centered care. Here, I learned that some of the most impactful moments happen in the quiet of patient connections, where understanding and support can change lives can lead to lasting change.

Reflecting on my journey, from nervously prescribing a single gram of paracetamol to where I am today, I’m in awe of how much I’ve grown. Each rotation challenged me in unique ways, teaching resilience, compassion, and self-discovery. And while the journey often came at the expense of family time, social life, and my personal health, I feel overwhelmingly proud of what I’ve accomplished.

As I prepare for the challenges of community service, I carry these memories as a foundation for the doctor I’m becoming. They remind me of the value of perseverance and the strength found in vulnerability, and I look forward to sharing more reflections as this new chapter unfolds.

“In sharing our stories, we can help others find their own paths through the shadows.”

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this journey—please share your experiences, reflections, or any comments you have in the section below, and don’t forget to like and share if you found this meaningful!