You recently won the Clinical Humanities Essay Competition; can you tell us more about your winning essay?
As part of our longitudinal GP placement, my peers and I had the chance to spend time with a member of the local community, listening to her reflections on ageing and navigating the healthcare system. My essay emerged from these conversations, shaped by the idea that ageing is not a solitary act, but something deeply communal – woven through relationships, responsibilities, and the often-unseen structures of support that surround a person: family, community, and healthcare.
What I tried to capture in my writing was the truth that illness is rarely just clinical. It is deeply existential. It touches identity, reframes how one is seen – and, just as importantly, how one sees oneself. More than a record of our encounters, I hoped the essay would serve as a wider reflection on care itself – not as a task to be completed, but as a practice of humility and presence. To care is not to reduce complexity into something more manageable, but to recognise it and remain with it. In doing so, both our understanding of the patient and our own approach to care can become more considered, and ultimately, more complete.
How did you get involved in this project?
As part of the placement, we were invited to create a piece that reflected the realities of our local GP community and the challenges it faces. The experience proved more impactful than I had anticipated, and when the opportunity came to reflect on it more formally, I felt a pull to write as a way to process what had stayed with me. I spent time gathering my thoughts, tracing the arc of our conversations with the patient, and trying to translate what she shared – her life, her stories, her insights – into written form. In doing so, I hoped not only to reflect on my own learning, but to honour what she offered us: her time, her openness, and a generosity that stayed with me long after the project ended.
What advice would you give to other medical students?
One thing I try to hold onto is this: approach every person as if they have something to teach you – about your field, about others, and often, about yourself. Whether a peer, a patient, a passerby, or a lecturer, there is always something to be learned – if only we remain open to it. No single person holds all the knowledge, and it’s often through listening and staying curious that we uncover insights no textbook or guideline could offer.
That mindset also shapes how I think about being a medical student. I believe we should all become more comfortable saying, ‘I don’t know’ – early, often, and without shame – because it’s what we do next that matters most. Honesty in uncertainty isn’t a flaw in medicine; it’s safety, humility, and integrity in action.
Where do you see yourself in five years’ time?
In five years’ time, I’ll be two years into working as a doctor and approaching the end of the Foundation Programme. It’s a future that’s still difficult to imagine with any real clarity – as an incoming third-year student, there’s still so much to do, and even more to learn – but I look forward to it all. By then, I hope to be entering specialty training, with plastic surgery as my leading interest, though I’ve also maintained a strong curiosity about psychiatry. Just as important to me, though, is finding ways to give back, particularly to newer or aspiring medical students. It can be a daunting system to find your place in, and if I can offer any encouragement, reassurance, or guidance – however small – I’d be glad to help others feel a little more supported as they find their own way.
What do you do with your time outside academia/work?
Outside of my studies, I volunteer at Evelina London Children’s Hospital whenever possible. It’s a small way to show up, and I like to think the exchange means something both ways. I also write – fiction, essays, whatever feels worth putting down; it helps me shape and sort through whatever’s on my mind. If there’s time, I usually find myself in a gallery, especially when a new exhibition or something unexpected catches my eye. I’m also always on the lookout for live music – preferably in a venue I haven’t been to, and if it’s one of my favourite artists, even better. London’s got endless options, and I’m down to see where it all leads.
QUICK-FIRE:
Favourite season: Autumn into winter. The heat of summer wears thin after a while, and I’ve always preferred the greyness – that stretch when everything gets a bit gloomier.
Favourite London restaurant: Gymkhana might be the best meal I’ve ever had. But for something closer to home, Elliot’s in Borough Market never misses – low-key, consistent, no fuss.
Coffee order: Double espresso – can’t do without you.
One thing you could not go a day without: My headphones, no question. There’s always something playing – usually soul, or anything by Sade.