Summer Hospital Intern To meet the requirements to apply for graduate school, I began my internship as a doctor last summer at a local hospital in China. It was not only a wonderful experience to improve professional techniques, but I also learned the meaning of life and the responsibility I had on my shoulders. The first day I was excited and scared at the same time. I was curious about everything I could see, smell and hear. I was excited because everything was new to me. The office was very quiet, all the doctors were focused on their work. Everything in the office was very well organized. The equipment shimmered as it attracted me to the touch. The smell of ink was still vaguely in the air. I got a little scared when I entered the hallway. It was really crowded, people seemed very busy, no matter if they were patients or doctors. People were everywhere. It was really easy to pump someone. Rapid footsteps made noise on the marble floor. The smell of the hospital's special antiseptic solutions was very pungent. The call bells in the wards were very high-pitched, and were combined with the red lights in front of the wards and the white walls. I had never felt more nervous before. I felt dizzy because I had no idea what I could do, but that whetted my will to fight even more. Overall, I like this place. The department I worked in was called the comprehensive internal medicine department and also included a rheumatology clinic. Even though I volunteered at the hospital for a long time in school, I never had the chance to do real volunteer work. So I was eager to learn everything. My instructor was a real person. She was almost my father's age, so she took care of me like I was her daughter.......halfway......like in danger. I had completely forgotten the original intention of why I wanted to become a doctor. I just wanted to show off. What the old man said was like a wake-up call. Since then, I have become even more committed than before. My internship ended the week before the fall semester started. Three months weren't a long time, but they meant a lot to me. It was not only a great experience for clinical practice, but in the meantime I understood more about the meaning of life and the responsibilities I had. By then I was a new person with a new attitude. I was so lucky that I had the chance to change myself. Thanks to the old man. I never heard from him after he left the hospital, but I really wish he was still alive. Since he spoke to me I no longer felt proud when someone called me doctor. I know that's what I'm going to be and there's nothing to be proud of.