I went to Africa a student and came back a doctor. It is easy to forget the growing pains of the student-to-doctor metamorphosis. For me, the once vague notion of becoming a doctor was made real when I traveled to Zambia to work on the wards of St. Francis Hospital (SFH) in Katete
One day, as a trainee doctor working in rural Zambia, I walked through the gates of the hospital to be greeted by what seemed to be the “eeyore-ing” of a demonic donkey.
Mr J had traveled across the border to Zambia from Malawi. He had been admitted to hospital overnight. The brief admission note showed that he was in his thirties and had three presenting complaints: