When Lisa Waia was just four years old, she told her dad she was going to be a doctor when she grew up.
It was a promise she never forgot.
Now a surgical registrar at Townsville University Hospital in north Queensland, Dr Waia has her sights set on an even bigger dream to become an ear, nose and throat surgeon.
As a carefree kid growing up in Bamaga at the tip of Cape York Peninsula, it wasn’t until she left her hometown at age 11 that she realised her childhood was a little bit different.
"I remember talking to kids about tombstone openings [a Torres Strait Islander tradition performed several years after the funeral]," Dr Waia said.
"And they're all like, 'What the hell is a tombstone opening?'"
Dr Waia says it was those cultural differences that made her continually question herself about whether she was good enough to be a surgeon.
Children hearing for the first time
Even as a child, Dr Waia knew too well the substandard medical care in Indigenous communities, and it was this that kept her motivated over the years.
Dr Waia has six years of training before she becomes an ENT consultant, but she's not quitting.
For her, it’s difficult to witness chronic conditions like middle ear disease that are fixable and preventable.
"We've got some of the worst ear disease worldwide … and that's pretty poor considering we're in 2022," she said.
She also points to lack of access to affordable fresh fruit and vegetables in regional and remote communities.
"I remember not begging for lollies at the shop, but for the nectarines I could smell, but they were so expensive," Dr Waia said.
"And if my mum was going to buy one, she'd have to buy one for every single one of my siblings and it just adds up."
Dr Waia is one of nine Indigenous doctors out of 850 at Townsville University Hospital and was one of the few Indigenous medical students in her cohort at James Cook University.
"This is crazy because it's the year 2022," she said.
"There's still so much work to do."
Dr Waia said improving medical care was about more than flying staff in from capital cities, but about doctors living, working and connecting with communities.
"They know I'm going to be accepting of their background and their beliefs."
It's not that simple
Australian Indigenous Doctors' Association training specialist Karen Nicholls said all First Nations doctors faced different challenges in their careers, but there were some common themes.
"The health care system is not built to be culturally safe and accommodating of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander doctors and medical students in [there is a] lack of understanding in regards to family and cultural obligations."
Dr Nicholls said "cultural loading" was also prevalent because there was an expectation that First Nations students were an expert on Indigenous issues when they were there to learn, rather than educate.
But her message to future doctors was clear.
Career, motherhood or both?
Dr Waia said it had taken her a while to accept she was a role model.
And like countless other women who balance motherhood and careers, Dr Waia said she hit a fork in the road about two years ago when she became pregnant with her son.
"At the start, I was like, 'Oh great, I've worked so hard … and felt like I was throwing it all away.
"It's so wonderful we have surgeons now who are female and have kids before their training or while they're training too, they can say, 'I know what it's like.'"
Dr Waia said her son was too young to realise what she had achieved.
