I still remember the smell of jet fuel and rain when I landed in Melbourne in late 2016. I had two suitcases, a medical degree from India, and a plan that seemed simple on paper. Finish the Australian Medical Council process, get registered, start working as a doctor. What no one told me was how long “simple” could take, and how much of it would happen far from the hospital.

Back home, I had graduated at the top of my class and finished internship at a busy public hospital. I thought my clinical skills would speak for themselves. In Australia, they had to be proven all over again, and in a way that felt unfamiliar at first.

*The first wall: the exams*

The AMC pathway for international medical graduates has two main hurdles: the MCQ exam and the clinical exam. The MCQ is a computer-based test that checks your medical knowledge against the Australian standard. I sat it six months after arriving. I had studied hard, but I missed the pass mark by two points.

That number stayed with me. Not because I doubted the medicine, but because I realized the exam wasn’t only testing facts. It was testing how you apply those facts in the Australian context. Questions about consent, triage in a regional emergency department, managing a patient who is hesitant about vaccination. These were things I had seen, but not framed the way the exam framed them.

I went back to work. To pay rent, I took a night shift job in a warehouse. I would finish at 6 am, sleep for four hours, and study from 11 am until late afternoon. My social life shrank to video calls with my family and the occasional coffee with other IMGs in the same boat. On the second attempt, I passed.

The clinical exam was harder. It’s a series of short patient scenarios where you have to take a history, examine, explain, and manage. I failed on my first try. The feedback was specific and humbling. I was too fast. I didn’t explore the patient’s concerns. I forgot to close the consultation with a safety net. These are skills, and skills can be learned. So I joined a peer study group with other IMGs. We practiced on each other in library rooms, timing ourselves, giving brutal feedback. On the third attempt, I passed.

*The second wall: getting a job*

Passing the exams gives you a certificate. It does not give you a job. In Australia, every international medical graduate needs supervision and a job offer to get limited registration. Hospitals and clinics prefer candidates with local experience. I had none.

I applied for more than 200 positions over two years. Most were in regional and rural areas because that’s where the need is greatest. I got three interviews. No offers.

During that time I worked as a medical scribe and later as a research assistant. It kept me in healthcare, but it was frustrating to be outside the room when decisions were made. The hardest conversations were with my parents. They had sold a small plot of land to support my move. Every call ended with me saying, “Not yet, but soon.”

What changed things was a three-month locum contract in a rural GP clinic in Victoria. The clinic owner was willing to supervise me. The deal was simple: show up, work hard, learn fast. There was no registrar to hand over to. If a child came in with croup at 5 pm, I managed it. If an elderly patient with chest pain needed a decision, I made the call and discussed it with the supervising GP on the phone.

That job taught me more than any textbook. I learned how to explain a skin check to a farmer who had never seen a dermatologist. I learned how to have a mental health conversation with a teenager who didn’t want their parents in the room. I learned that good medicine in Australia is often about communication as much as diagnosis.

*The third wall: training and responsibility*

With that experience, I secured a hospital job that counted toward my supervised training. The year was intense. Long shifts, constant learning, and the pressure of being responsible for patients without a safety net.

After that, I applied for GP training through the Australian General Practice Training program. GP training is different from hospital work. You are the primary decision maker. There is no team of registrars behind you. Patients trust you because you are their GP, and you have to earn that trust every day.

In my first year of training, I made a mistake. A patient came in with calf pain. I treated it as a muscle strain and sent them home. Two days later they returned with a confirmed DVT. No harm came to the patient, but the feeling of missing it stayed with me. I started keeping a reflective log. After every difficult case, I wrote down what I did, what I missed, and what I would do differently. It became a habit that made me a safer doctor.

*What it looks like now*

Today I work as a fellowed GP in regional Victoria. My days are a mix of skin checks, chronic disease management, antenatal shared care, mental health plans, and the occasional emergency that walks through the door.

I still see patients who are nervous because English is not their first language. I know what that feels like. I take a bit more time, I use plain language, and I check understanding. Many of those patients now bring their kids and their parents. In a small town, reputation travels fast.

The struggle hasn’t disappeared. It has changed. Now it is about staying up to date, managing a busy clinic, and making sure I don’t burn out. But it is a struggle I chose, and one I feel equipped for.

*What helped me get here*

If you are an international medical graduate reading this, here are the things that made a difference for me:

1. *Treat communication as a clinical skill*. In Australia, how you explain, listen, and close a consultation matters as much as your diagnosis. Practice it deliberately.

2. *Consider rural and regional work*. Clinics in these areas are often more open to supervising IMGs, and you get broader experience faster.

3. *Build a small support network*. Find one supervisor or senior doctor who believes in you. Keep in touch. Their reference can open doors.

4. *Expect it to take time*. For most people, the pathway from arrival to fellowship is five to seven years. Plan financially and emotionally for that.

5. *Look after yourself*. The process is a marathon. Exercise, sleep, and time away from study matter. You cannot help patients if you are running on empty.

*Why I share this*

I share this because when I was in the middle of it, I rarely saw stories that looked like mine. I saw success stories, but not the years in between. The gap between “I have a medical degree” and “I am a registered doctor” can feel invisible to everyone except the person living it.

If you are in that gap now, it will feel like it will never end. It does end. Not because the system gets easier, but because you get better. You learn the language of Australian healthcare, you build confidence through repetition, and you find people who give you a chance.

There are days now where a patient will come in, sit down, and say, “I’m glad you’re here.” That sentence carries a weight I did not expect. It reminds me why the years of study, the failed exams, the rejections, and the early mornings were worth it.

Becoming a GP in Australia as an international medical graduate is not a straight line. It is a series of small steps, each one building on the last. If you keep taking those steps, you will get there. And when you do, you will bring a perspective that makes the system better for the next person coming behind you.

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