My Experience as a medical intern
Any doctor will tell you that the hardest time of their training was during their internship. I have many stories to share about my experience, but there’s one I will probably never forget.
Last year, I was the doctor on call in the obstetrics and gynaecology department during the Easter holiday. There were only two interns in each department, so we had to collaborate to ensure continuous coverage. On Good Friday, I worked the entire day because my colleague was post-call (meaning she had been working for the last 48 hours) and needed to leave the hospital early to rest. We completed our rounds together, she assisted me with several patient reviews, and then I remained to oversee the department for the entire weekend. The department comprised three wards: the gynaecology ward, the postnatal ward, and the maternity ward, where most emergencies occur, especially on weekends.
I returned to review the patient, hoping for a quick resolution, but we ended up rushing for an emergency Caesarean section.
I anticipated leaving the hospital at 6pm on Friday, looking forward to refreshing and getting some rest before potentially being called in again. After completing all pending reviews and procedures, I was ready to depart by 6pm. However, as soon as I stepped out of the gate, I received a call from the nurse in the maternity ward about an emergency. I returned to review the patient, hoping for a quick resolution, but we ended up rushing for an emergency Caesarean section. Thus began one of the most chaotic shifts I’ve ever experienced. I remained in the theatre the entire night, and I was surprised to see the sun when I glanced out the window—it was already morning.
Exhausted, hungry, and disoriented, I finally stepped out of the theatre. After a quick shower and breakfast at home, I returned to the hospital at 10am for the daily ward round and to review any new admissions. I conducted rounds in three wards—the gynaecology, maternity, and postnatal wards—alone. By the time I finished, it was already afternoon. I attended to various procedures in the gynaecology ward and discharged several patients in the postnatal ward. Some patients admitted the previous night while I was in theatre were understandably frustrated because they hadn’t been seen promptly upon arrival.
By 4pm, I had completed all procedures and was looking forward to resting, but I was called for an emergency in the maternity ward. Upon arrival, I found a woman experiencing severe post-delivery bleeding. We rushed to the theatre to repair a tear and stop the bleeding. It felt like there was a button someone pressed that weekend, triggering one emergency after another. Before I could leave the theatre, the nurse informed me of three patients needing emergency C-sections. I hoped she was mistaken, but upon review, they indeed required immediate surgery. And so, I found myself spending another night in the theatre. While I didn’t mind the workload—seeing it as an opportunity to hone my skills—by morning, I could hardly feel my feet.
Before I could leave the theatre, the nurse informed me of three patients requiring emergency C-sections. I hoped she was mistaken, but upon review, they indeed required immediate surgery.
Calm to Chaos
I was uncertain about my next move—should I complete my daily rounds in the three wards before going home, or should I prioritize getting a few hours of sleep first? It had become apparent to me and the entire department that my shifts had a tendency to transition rapidly from calm to chaotic. With this in mind, I knew going home before rounds was not an option. So, I made the decision to push through and began my rounds.
That day, each patient seemed like a daunting task, and it took me the entire day to complete rounds in all three wards. I hadn’t had a proper meal, slept, or even showered. I was physically drained, literally dragging my feet from one ward to the next.
Exhaustion
The nurse on duty noticed my exhaustion as I walked around the hospital carrying a cool box and blood samples. She kindly relieved me of my duties, insisting I go home, shower, and get a few hours of rest. She assured me she would handle things until I returned and would only contact me if necessary. She even offered me a cup of porridge from the thermos reserved for new mothers—a gesture I’ll always be grateful for.
I did not leave the hospital again until the following day. I was running from one emergency to another.
My colleague who came to take over from me on Monday morning found me in theatre. I was not even sure what day it was. That last surgery was a horrible one. We lost the baby and I had to deliver the news to the mother. She found me writing down the theatre notes while the nurse covering the gynaecology ward was on my neck, complaining that I needed to rush to her ward because there was a patient who needed blood urgently. I remember being too tired to even reply to her. I finished writing my notes and didn’t even change from my blood stained scrubs and crocs. I just walked out towards the gate.
I got to the gate and suddenly burst into tears, which I honestly have no idea even now where that came from. I walked to my house while weeping. On the way, I got a call from home and my family was checking on me since they had not heard from me the entire weekend. I tried to gather strength to talk to them, but I just couldn’t. Instead, it was like hearing my mum and aunt’s voice added fuel to the fire. I continued weeping uncontrollably over the phone. I could not even give them a reason for my weeping.
Reflecting on my experience, I realized it was a typical ordeal for a medical officer intern during a weekend call. Some interns face even tougher challenges in busier centers
Lack of Support
I finally stopped crying when I reached my door, explaining to my family that I’d had a challenging call. I’ll never forget my aunt’s comforting words: ‘While we hope for your success as a doctor, remember, you’re our daughter first and foremost.’ It was Easter Monday, and I was grateful for the day off. After showering, eating, and resting, I felt refreshed and ready to tackle internship life once more. Reflecting on my experience, I realized it was a typical ordeal for a medical officer intern during a weekend call. Some interns face even tougher challenges in busier centers, lacking the support or coping skills needed to navigate the demanding training. Sadly, discussing these difficulties is often viewed as complaining, perpetuating a culture of silent suffering inherited from past generations of doctors. It’s crucial for the government to show greater respect for doctors, especially interns, who play a significant role in the healthcare workforce.
