Like any other regular day, my eyes barely open. Hair unkempt, keeping an apron on, just to ensure my identity and enforce my pitiful authority. I rushed towards the door and right into the wards premises; I’ve got to take an over, day in and day out to ensure I know everything about the poor beings who would depend on my knowledge and on my dedication. Being a house officer, my projection of my workplace doesn’t really count for I may witness heavens dropping in hell or hell violating heavens, all in the space of one day. I maybe shouted at, cursed, offended or on a lucky day praised and admired in front of the very people I am supposed to treat. My response - no matter what the case scenario - has to be a nod, hiding behind the most powerful and the most helpless three letter word on this planet, “Yes”.

I might joke around as much as I want about it … being too serious really takes the passion and fun out of it, but the truth is this field has an incredible journey that will lift you off your feet or bury you six feet under, irrespective of how qualified or how blessed you are.

Every single day you’ll have to walk the same passage that fate has spotted out for you. It’s the same day; however, the patients might change. You will be made to deal with the emergencies with or without your consent.Every time the condition worsens you’ll have to be on your feet, keeping your calm in the most stressful situations and the first to make a decision whilst all others are evidently in distress. The decision, however, has to be correct for it’s a human life you’re dealing with. This is what you are trained to do; this is what you are paid to do. The responsibility is unparalleled. You’re there to save lives. You have to be at your best regardless of your physical or mental condition. You have to bid farewell to your social and family life, shift gears, maybe. The hospital is your new home and you can consider your house as your workplace.                                                                             

The medical profession undoubtedly is one of the most difficult professions that you could ever choose, not just because you have to work hard for it, the myriad books you’ll have to open and digest, the number of never ending years that you’ll have to spend just to get the two-letter appellation with your name - Dr - and be respected and paid for it, and these two things i.e. money and respect are, of course, the hardest bits to achieve. However, these mentioned predicaments are nothing compared to what the profession has in store for you. Once you make your way into the game… Boom! There’s an explosion in your head! Tada... Greetings Mortal! “The ward takes the troll”, and then you figure out what has happened, it is then that you realise what being a doctor actually means. The words ‘responsibility’ and ‘wisdom’ launch a Spartan attack on you. You fall down; you get up, you fall again. You’re dragged, pulled, and pushed and you make a complete fool of yourself. The job is difficult; and at times impossible. There are times when you start losing yourself. Depression, rejection … whilst many would get through wisely, some would still be asking themselves if this was the right decision. If they would ever be good doctors… but, as the days pass, you grow and the fact that you started from scratch makes you an unstoppable machine. Your decisions go firm. Your hands go rigid, you begin to understand your place in the ward. And, you don’t have an identity crisis anymore. You get the answers you were seeking - you realise that you are a DOCTOR - and that’s what you are.