Sunday, February 24, 2008

Revelation

At a family dinner my uncle asked me a question:

Would you do it all again?

Simple question, hard answer. My parents, grandmother, brother, and various other family members were there – all awaiting what, I'm convinved, they were sure they’d hear. Instead I dropped a blow. After refusing to answer at first and being cajoled into answering I replied:

It’s not that I wouldn’t, but right now I’m not sure. It’s really not been worth it and it’s a helluva lot harder than anyone understands. I don’t know…I don’t think I’d do it again. I know I wouldn't want my kids doing this.”

Almost everyone sat there, rather stunned. I’m sure they thought they’d hear me praise my training and the love that has grown inside me for medicine. Instead I was honest. Honest about the hardship, the frank disappointment, the depression that had set in many times, and just let them know I wasn't sure if I'd made a good decision. My uncle, who is by trade a lawyer, looked at me and shook his in agreement.

He then went on to expound on how he hated being a lawyer for the first 10 years following law school, which his wife agreed completely. This received incredulous replies from my grandmother and mom, to which my uncle and aunt echoed my frustrations - debt, disappointment, pressure, self-doubt, and the feeling of accepting a lie. He explained how the debt, the lack of esteem, and overall bullshit that he had to endure while fresh out of school made him almost quit several times. He expounded on how he hated people assuming he was "rich" because he was a lawyer and that he had originally believed he'd be wealthy when he entered law school. The harsh fact was, that for many years, they barely could afford to live.

He then looked at me directly and proceeded to inform me that it got better. It took time, but once you find what makes you happy it makes the job fantastic. He now loves what he does – though it wasn’t what he initially thought he’d be doing.

That was, for me, the only time that I truly felt that someone in my family understood what I felt. The sad part is that the only reason he understood it was because he had to endure something similar. You just can’t explain this to people who haven’t dealt with the process. They all look at you like you’re crazy and talk about the money, the prestige, and the myths that shroud the professions of medicine and law.

I hope that I'll find the peace and happiness that he has in law. I would really like to wake up most days and want to go to work. Right now I don't.

7 comments:

Doc's Girl said...

"I know I wouldn't want my kids doing this."

I think that is the most powerful sentence of your entire post...and probably how a lot of professionals feel.

Liz said...

Wow. how much does it suck that we have to suffer through 10-12 years of bull-S before we can actually feel like we love what we're doing?

as i get deeper and deeper into medical school i realize more & more that i was deluding myself into somehow thinking that we would be able to have kids & manage dual residencies. :(

Couz said...

"He expounded on how he hated people assuming he was "rich" because he was a lawyer and that he had originally believed he'd be wealthy when he entered law school. The harsh fact was, that for many years, they barely could afford to live."

A big "hell yeah" to this. I'm going into my third year of huge debt, financial stress and general gut-wrenching uncertainty.

My husband gets it a lot more than I do, but I'm angered on his behalf when people ask him why he works if his wife is a doctor. His answer? Someone has to pay the bills.

Bostonian in NY said...

My GF is a law student and she went to law school mainly to avoid the real world for a few more years, which has led to the same self-doubt, depression downward spiral that you and your uncle described.

I hit a similar feeling last semester and started absolutely hating what med school was making me into, but I'm still a little too fresh to have my soul/optimism completely crushed.

Liana said...

This post made me sad. And a bit worried. Which is kind of crazy, because you're some guy I just know through the internet. But you're also some guy whose posts have gone from edgy and honest to angry and uh... bitter. Don't get me wrong... this is still one of my favourite blogs, and I do realize that sometimes a blog is just a place to vent. But I'm still worried about you... especially your last paragraph.

Anonymous said...

Just stumbled onto your blog tonight and this is already my second post. The truth of the matter is, a lot of people feel the way you do. I graduated from medical school in 2004. Have now completed residency and I'm finally making good money. Am I at a point where I would say it's all worth it?
Not yet.

Things are a lot better than they were. I can afford a lot of things I couldn't in years past. I've just begun to realize there is a HUGE demand for my services and I can make a lot of money if I'm willing to work for it. I am now the attending and I get to make the calls on my own, without anyone looking over my shoulder. Nurses don't give me as much grief anymore because I am in charge. I put in a lot fewer hours than I did as a resident.
But there are drawbacks.

The big decisions I make. All day, every day. The patients I worry about when I'm on my way home, even when I know I did everything right for them. The drug seekers. The demanding people. The times you save someone's life but don't get a bit of thanks from the family, while ten other patients have nothing wrong with them but demand more and more of you and are never satisfied despite getting appropriate care. The constant threat of litigation, even when you do everything reasonable and appropriate.

I see and talk to physicians in my field who are five or ten years out and see how they have seen it all before; how they seemingly cope with things better and are better adjusted, more comfortable. And I hope that will be me in a few years. People always told me that making the transition to attending would be the most difficult transition I'd ever make. I never believed it until I got out. You spend so much time looking forward to being done with training; to making good money, calling your own shots, having a lighter schedule, etc. But the truth of the matter is, there's a whole new set of challenges.

As a medical student every year I looked forward to the next. Finally as a fourth year I looked forward to the autonomy of being a resident and not dealing with the academic nonsense. I was ready to stop borrowing money, stop dealing with the constant exams, match somewhere and be done with worrying about how I looked on paper.

The process continued as an intern and resident. Every year you look forward to the progression, only to get there and look forward to the next thing.

Best advice I could give: Cherish your accomplishments. Don't lose sight of how far you've come. Never lose hope. Take pride in what you do, every day, and don't let anyone get in the way of that---this includes upper level residents with an attitude, attendings on a power trip, and demanding and rude patients. All three can drain you spiritually and emotionally, but only if you let them. If you let them they have gotten the best of you. Don't let them get the best of you.

Take every opportunity in your training and beyond to learn something, from everything and everyone. And make sure you do something to get away from the craziness and enjoy yourself. Because you deserve it.

Anonymous said...

Just stumbled onto your blog tonight and this is already my second post. The truth of the matter is, a lot of people feel the way you do. I graduated from medical school in 2004. Have now completed residency and I'm finally making good money. Am I at a point where I would say it's all worth it?
Not yet.

Things are a lot better than they were. I can afford a lot of things I couldn't in years past. I've just begun to realize there is a HUGE demand for my services and I can make a lot of money if I'm willing to work for it. I am now the attending and I get to make the calls on my own, without anyone looking over my shoulder. Nurses don't give me as much grief anymore because I am in charge. I put in a lot fewer hours than I did as a resident.
But there are drawbacks.

The big decisions I make. All day, every day. The patients I worry about when I'm on my way home, even when I know I did everything right for them. The drug seekers. The demanding people. The times you save someone's life but don't get a bit of thanks from the family, while ten other patients have nothing wrong with them but demand more and more of you and are never satisfied despite getting appropriate care. The constant threat of litigation, even when you do everything reasonable and appropriate.

I see and talk to physicians in my field who are five or ten years out and see how they have seen it all before; how they seemingly cope with things better and are better adjusted, more comfortable. And I hope that will be me in a few years. People always told me that making the transition to attending would be the most difficult transition I'd ever make. I never believed it until I got out. You spend so much time looking forward to being done with training; to making good money, calling your own shots, having a lighter schedule, etc. But the truth of the matter is, there's a whole new set of challenges.

As a medical student every year I looked forward to the next. Finally as a fourth year I looked forward to the autonomy of being a resident and not dealing with the academic nonsense. I was ready to stop borrowing money, stop dealing with the constant exams, match somewhere and be done with worrying about how I looked on paper.

The process continued as an intern and resident. Every year you look forward to the progression, only to get there and look forward to the next thing.

Best advice I could give: Cherish your accomplishments. Don't lose sight of how far you've come. Never lose hope. Take pride in what you do, every day, and don't let anyone get in the way of that---this includes upper level residents with an attitude, attendings on a power trip, and demanding and rude patients. All three can drain you spiritually and emotionally, but only if you let them. If you let them they have gotten the best of you. Don't let them get the best of you.

Take every opportunity in your training and beyond to learn something, from everything and everyone. And make sure you do something to get away from the craziness and enjoy yourself. Because you deserve it.