I knew I wanted to be a doctor by the time I was five. I nursed that dream jealously through my adolescence and the political turbulence of the 1980s with the Kwiksave point system, the fall of the Mintoffian Empire and the rise and rise of Eddie Fenech Adami.

Going through medical school, however, was more like a nightmare filled with over-inflated egos, dead boring lectures and hair-raising exam experiences. But there was also a lot of sunshine made up of good company, funny anecdotes and beautiful friendships woven close to the soul, many of which I still cherish to this day. When I finally woke up to reality five years later it was with a lot of relief that the ordeal was over, fear mixed with excitement for the unknown that was yet to come and pride that my dream had actually come true.

I got a massive heart attack the first time the bleep went off during my first hospital duty but after getting round the first emergencies I started to take things more in my stride. The first two compulsory years in hospital were very tough, but it was a steep learning curve that prepared me well for the years ahead. I learnt that being a medic was about really being there for the patient even if it was just with a smile, a kind word or a gentle touch.

After the two years of in-house training were over, I decided that hospital work wasn’t for me and took up general practice both in the public and the private sectors. My own practice lasted for two years and even though I was doing very well I could not stand the constant invasion by my patients at all hours of the day and night 24/7. So I just kept my work as a general practitioner in the public health clinics in the south where even though the shift was crazy, I could at least have my time and my life.

My 12 years at the Paola and Cospicua health centres, which I fondly came to call the Bronx, were so eventful that I could easily dub them a general practitioner’s delight. I was exposed to all sorts of ailments, emergencies, social situations and tragedies; you name it, be it child abuse, domestic violence, a common cold, a traffic accident, a drug overdose, an injury at work, a blood pressure check, a birth in the clinic lavatory, I’ve seen it and done it, time and time again.

But it is the tragedies I have witnessed, some more than others that have left an indelible mark in my memory. They were the hardest tests in my career, the ones that really made me look into myself, to see if I really had what it takes to be the doctor I needed to be and the ones that made me realize that however good I was, I was just a human being and there were some things I could never change or ameliorate.

After 12 years, I realised I had given enough and that I could not possibly give any more. So I closed the door on my dream to open another. I now am the medical affairs officer for one of the leading pharmaceutical companies worldwide and one of the medics at a top cosmetic clinic. I am also doing a post-graduate diploma in Gestalt psychotherapy with the intention of furthering my studies in this field.

An American sage once said that “dreams are wishes your heart makes”. We work hard to achieve them and most of the time they do come true. But there also comes a time when some of our dreams come to an end and pave the way for others with new challenges, new satisfactions and new knowledge. That is what, after all, makes life a colourful journey worth embarking on.

Dr Mizzi is a general practitioner. She is the medical affairs officer for one of the leading pharmaceutical companies worldwide and one of the medics at a top cosmetic clinic.