Her sister's healthcare journey inspired Ann to pursue a career in rural medicine

From the coastal shores of Tweed Heads to the remote villages of India, I’ve seen how geography can define fate—how a lack of specialised care and long travel times can turn medical needs into insurmountable challenges.

The raw force of this reality drowned me entirely at 10:30 am. on April 23rd, 2018. My little sister, Angelin Aji Thayyil (our little Angie), came into the world. She was a tiny bundle of life— born a month too early. The lights above cast a harsh, sterile glow, rendering her skin almost translucent and her tiny fingers balled into tight fists. But there was a taut silence, a heavy, merciless, unspoken tension that seemed to press down on everyone. It wasn’t long before the diagnosis came: William’s syndrome. A rare genetic condition that would shape her life in ways we couldn’t fully grasp at the time. The doctors explained the heart issues, the developmental delays, and the distinctive features that would make her different. 

We were caught in relentless waves of medical appointments and therapies, with her fragile heart at the centre of it all. The doctors told us she would need open-heart surgery to correct the narrowing of her aorta. The hospital where Angie was born lacked the specialised care she needed, so we left the comfort of home for the unfamiliar corridors of a distant hospital, where her heart could finally find relief.

Five years later, the day arrived. It was the day of her surgery.

In a dimly lit hospital room, I sat on a tattered, blue, plastic chair. The waiting room was a blur of anxious faces and hushed murmurs, occasionally interrupted by the rustle of magazines and the faint clatter of toys from the play area.   Despite the presence of my little brother and my dad, a deep, empty void pressed in on me, wrapping me in a sense of isolation. I turned to my dad, trying to muster a brave face, and asked, “Is she gonna be, okay?”
Silence answered me, stretching the hum of the lights overhead. Desperate for
reassurance, I repeated, “Appa… is she going to be, okay?”

This time, he replied, “Yes… she will be.”