When I became a doctor, I thought I could cope with the pain and death I would see. I was wrong

‘I collected those distressing moments and I carried them around until I became unwell myself.’ Photograph: Lynsey Addario/Getty Images

People always tell me I was brave to apply to medical school in my 30s. But for me, the bravest thing was to walk away from being a doctor 10 years later.

I’d always wanted to study medicine but, believing I wasn’t bright enough, I left school at 15 and didn’t return to education until my 30s. Despite discovering the self-belief I’d lacked as a teenager, the going was still tough. Personal commitments meant a hefty commute and money was always tight. The end goal kept us all going, though, fantasising about the kind of medics we wanted to be. We didn’t dream about prizes or having rare diseases named after us; each one of us dreamed about being a doctor who made a difference. A doctor who fixed things.