Samuel Imevbore, a dedicated final-year student pursuing a Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery (MBChB) in the School of Medicine at the University of Pretoria's Faculty of Health Sciences, reflects on his remarkable six-year journey through medical school. Samuel's narrative, illuminated by personal challenges and triumphs, becomes even more poignant as we gain insight into his health struggles. Despite facing significant health obstacles, Samuel's resilience, faith, and the unwavering support of his community have played a crucial role in him overcoming adversity and emerge as a medical doctor.  We hope you find inspiration in this powerful story. 

Reflecting on the past six years, it has been an incredible journey, a testament to God’s grace over my life. I am a community-made individual, blessed with an incredible supportive family, an ever encouraging best friend, and the countless doctors who have seen me over the course of six years both as a patient and a student.

Diagnosed with sickle cell anaemia at 14, I began chronic medication at the age of 16 after a sickle cell crisis left me temporarily blind.

Over these six years, additional health challenges, including dilated cardiomyopathy, pulmonary emboli, moderate pulmonary hypertension and fainting spells, tested my resilience. Completing medical school in standard time became a character-building experience.

Diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy in second year of the medicine degree at the University of Pretoria, exacerbated by the stress of anatomy, my symptoms worsened after developing pulmonary emboli in 2021. Spending a week on oxygen in ward nine on my birthday, and although my family could not visit me due to covid regulations, my best friend Lere brought some cake, which we shared with the nursing staff and my 60-year-old ward friends that happily accepted their young companion.

Samuel marks his birhday with a slice of cake, a thoughtful gesture from his best friend 

During my stay there, I tried my best to examine my new friends and explain as best as I could the pathophysiology of their conditions to them. The nursing staff, however, pleaded with me to sit still and focus on my recovery.

Post-discharge, my dyspnoea persisted, forcing me to place a plastic chair in the shower as I couldn’t stand for longer than 5 minutes without falling to the ground and would regularly fall asleep right there from the hypoxia.

Advised to limit exercises intensity took a major toll on my mental health. My body was falling apart at the young age of 21 and there was nothing I could do about it. I admittingly, against my cheerful nature, I spent a lot of time wishing God would let me get worse enough to just die in my sleep and for some months actively prayed death over my life as the chest pain progressively worsened.

Despite wishing for a different outcome, I found hope through my fourth-year rotation group. They noticed my disposition dip and helped me as much as they could. They extended support, often taking time off what they were doing to assist me with ward work, encourage me to remain positive and we even went out on a memorable picnic.

With new found hope, I worked on improving my health daily - , adhering to medication, joining volunteer committees and doing outreaches, and started jogging. My focus shifted from my own suffering to that of my patients, making me stronger in all aspects, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and academically. My marks started improving and I was enjoying medicine again.

From my teenager years in Chris Hani Baragwanath Hospital, I looked up to a young doctor my mom and I called “Dr Cool”.  He played a massive role in my choosing medicine as he spent time explaining what was going on with my body and the three-monthly visits fostered both my curiosity for medicine as well as my understanding on how to properly interact with patient and other healthcare staff.

I remembered this, and as a result of my own experience actualised a love for all my patients, and the deep understanding of the importance of hope and reassurance, and started giving it out, just like how ‘Dr Cool’ and my rotation group gave me hope.

I used to break down a lot at the start of my SIC year in fear, wondering how I could even be a doctor if I faint during ward rounds and I am asked by my seniors to scrub out during a short 40-minute C-section. How could I even dream of carving a path for myself?

I have now made it to the finish line of my degree, a stronger individual across all domains, never failing a year, fighting back the idea of quitting no matter how hard it has been.

My second name means ‘God has made this perfect’, or ‘God has made this complete’, and so my favourite passage in the Bible is James 1: 2 to 4 that says: “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.”

I have doubted God countless time. When waking up to severe bone pain simply because I forgot to drink enough water the previous day, or when my family had faced financial challanges and I struggled with not having food in my room for some time and my younger brother was homeless in Cape Town, or when I for a period of time in second year started cutting my wrists and had to be weaned off that addiction with the support of my friends, I doubted God and wanted to end everything. But through it all, my head has been held high by the support of those around me. I could not have made it through medicine or any of my many challenges without the community around me. Thank you all so much.