Dr. Kamlesh Darji

Don’t confuse professionalism with over-friendliness.

The day you start doing personal works for a consultant, a boundary is crossed.

Initially you’ll be praised.
The day you’re exhausted and say no, you’ll be treated worse than someone who never helped at all.

So stay strictly professional.
Do your assigned work honestly.
Don’t put yourself in a position where refusing personal favors later becomes a big problem.

Be decent to seniors, juniors, nurses, technicians, and staff - everyone is carrying something you can’t see.

Drop the ego; it only makes long days heavier.
Talk to people outside your specialty.
Greet them when they come to your department, and show some respect.
Do this every day, quietly, without expecting anything back…
and the hospital slowly stops feeling like a battlefield and starts feeling a little more like home.

Do not romanticise suffering.

Be ruthless with basics - sleep when possible, eat something (apron has 3 pockets, 1 is for food), drink water, read daily, learn something new daily.

System may break you, but skills stay. Survive first. Excellence follows.

Never confuse workload with learning.

You may handle hundreds of cases and treat/sign them out within days - that is workload.

Learning is choosing two high-value cases every day, studying them in depth, and if possible; write an article on them.

That’s how residents become experts.

You're staring at a patient and something feels wrong.

You can't name it yet. The vitals look fine. The labs don't scream. But your gut does.

Don't rationalize it. Don't wait. Tell your senior right then: "Something about this doesn't feel right and I can't figure out what."

That instinct is your brain catching details you haven't consciously processed. The residents who catch rare diagnoses aren't smarter - they're just the ones who listen to that whisper instead of fighting it.

Say it out loud. Let them help you see what you're sensing. That's how you actually learn medicine.

Before leaving the hospital, revisit one case that confused you that day.

Read about it for 10 minutes. Find out what you missed.

Do this every day for three years. You'll build knowledge that no last-minute exam preparation can replace.

Before presenting a case to your consultant, ask yourself: “What are the three questions I might be asked?”

Find their answers beforehand.

Do this consistently, and you'll realize something remarkable: you're no longer just preparing for questions. You're training yourself to think like a consultant.

Never measure your worth by how replaceable you look on duty.

Practical reality:
If you fall sick, someone else will cover your work by evening.

Emotional reality:
If you lose self-respect, clarity, or curiosity - no one replaces that for you.

So do this, daily:

• Eat one proper meal without guilt (mostly dinners)
• Ask one honest doubt without fear (if seniors are not good, ask AI)
• Learn one thing that is not immediately useful but deeply satisfying

Residency trains you to become efficient.
Don’t let it train you to become empty.

Hospitals remember output.
You have to remember yourself.
Okie?

You're at a tertiary center.

Most patients haven't come straight to you. They've been to a village hospital first. Then a district one. Maybe a private setup. By the time they reach your OPD, two or three doctors have already seen them.

Those doctors stood where you're standing now. Just without your CT scanner. Without a senior one phone call away. Without your institute's name behind them.

But they're doctors. They examined the patient. They wrote things down.

Read their files. All of it. Don't skim. Don't toss the folder aside because the handwriting is bad or the paper is yellow. Their findings save you time. Their reports work as your quality control. Their differentials are clues - sometimes the diagnosis is sitting right there on page two and you're about to order it again from scratch.

Lower your ego about the institute. The doctor who throws away old files and starts fresh isn't being thorough. He's being arrogant. And one day he's going to miss something a PHC medical officer caught three months ago.