Published on 8 December 2025

She was pushed into the consultation room in a wheelchair by a relative.

Over the past year she had become increasingly stiff, and now she was unable to walk. Despite multiple investigations, her diagnosis remained unclear.

I began speaking to her in isiXhosa, but quickly realised she was perfectly fluent in English. Then, unexpectedly, she said: “But you are Dr Conradie. I worked with you at Rietvlei Hospital.”

She had been a midwifery trainee at the rural Eastern Cape hospital where I worked as a young doctor, fresh out of Tygerberg — now more than 50 years ago. I was amazed she remembered me after all these years. Wanting to reconnect and learn more about our time together, I arranged a home visit with her daughter.

Google Maps guided me through a densely populated township to their home. At the gate, a young boy — her grandchild — waited to welcome me, ensuring the two dogs did the same. Inside, she sat in her wheelchair in the living room with a friend and her son-in-law. The TV was tuned to a popular local Afrikaans series with English subtitles. Her daughter bustled around the kitchen, bringing me cooldrink and scones.

We talked about her life journey. She had originally trained as a primary school teacher, and after a few years decided to pursue nursing — first as a staff nurse, then as a professional nurse in Mthatha. She later moved to Rietvlei to complete her midwifery training in the hospital’s busy maternity unit. She remembered the lectures I gave to the trainee midwives. After qualifying, she went on to work at Pelonomi Hospital in Bloemfontein until her retirement.

While we were talking, the room gradually filled with more people: a granddaughter with her husband, and another granddaughter who appeared from a back room. Newly qualified as a professional nurse, she was preparing for a night shift at a private hospital 40 km away. Three generations under one roof — two of them nurses. A quiet legacy of care.

We discussed her grandmother’s condition. She asked that we pursue further specialised investigations to reach a more definitive diagnosis.

As I left, I felt a mix of emotions: deep warmth for the generous welcome and the chance to reminisce with a former colleague — and concern that, despite our efforts, we have not yet been able to ease her growing impairment.

Moments like these remind me why continuity, connection, and humility remain at the heart of medicine.