I wake up at 430 everyday. I run from patient to patient. I sit to write a progress note with my half-eaten protein bar (with caffeine in it) by my left hand since I'm always actively using the mouse to click here and there for the latest test results, imaging, and how this and that value has been trending.
I'm some component in the machine of medical training, trying to keep up so the gears don't crush me, so those with decades more experience of me can acknowledge me and see potential in me. I have to prove myself so those same people will agree to train me.
Even early in the day I've spent so many minutes agonizing about what I want to be when I grow up, if I'm good enough for this or that, if I'll be happy in this specialty. If this girl will text me back, or if she's just ignoring me. If I'll have a chance at a meaningful relationship someday. And if I do, if it will be stable despite my moving to another city for a residency, moving again for a fellowship, and moving again for a job.
I work, I come home, I have a drink.
I work, come home, and hope another human being will one day return the same feelings I have for them.
I come home, rest, think if I'll be good enough for this specialty, if I'll be competitive enough, if my superiors will like me for who I am.
I come home, I rest, I think about how my surgery chiefs told me they would forego medical school to become a physician's assistant if they could do it again. I reflect on their stories about putting their car in park at every red light because on their way home, they knew they would fall asleep, and they'd wake up to the car honking behind them.
I'm putting down my drinks because there's no fulfillment in drinking. My entire life I've been someone who thirsts endlessly for fulfillment and meaning, to find the things that make me feel more complete, the things that make me feel I can actually rest and feel satisfaction.
I often wonder if my writings appear so jaded and if I come across as an empty, ungrateful person. But I'm happy to have such a dedicated readership when my goal is to write what I really think and feel and when my goal is to expose my very soul when I reflect upon the hardships my patients and I go through together.
Music liberates me. The feeling of my fingers pressing down on steel strings and making something sound good is rapturous, especially when it's one of my favorite British rock songs. I want to feel like that everyday, in everything I do. Whenever I play music, I feel renewed and I always feel like I'm doing something right.
Yes, medicine is a passion of mine, but I know I can't make it the only priority in my life when so much else gives me meaning, makes me feel grounded, and fulfills me.
Another long day tomorrow, another day to seize.
Anesthesiologists always seem happier than surgeons. I think that will be good for you.
ReplyDeleteDear Sam/BaylorDoctor,
DeleteThe anesthesiologists I've met do seem very happy and relaxed, especially the residents. I've also worked with a lot of surgeons who are energizing to be around and make me think about a surgical career again.
But as a medical student, we're shielded from a lot of the stressful, difficult things residents go through. I've always wondered how late the residents would stay after I finished my work and was allowed to go home, and how many times they have to say no to family and friends.
So far I think anesthesiology is for me instead of surgery. It has the right amount of procedures and critical thinking involved, and research is always moving forward, especially in the area of critical care and brain trauma.
The residency in general seems less intense than general surgery, and you still get OR time and manage critical care patients. Seems like a winner, you're right.