I was burned out and depressed. Disruptive and difficult. Thinking life wasn’t worth living. But still I came to work.
I mocked and resented the burnout solutions suggested by administrators: get more sleep (during my 72-hour busy call shift?), exercise, stay hydrated, meditate, take a yoga class, etc.
Don’t tell me to take a yoga class, fix the damn EMR!
The system had caused my burnout; I resented the system for now telling me I was a problem that I needed to fix. I wasn’t suffering from a yoga deficiency.
I had lots of ideas about the root causes of my burnout and how my institution could address them.
I KNEW I was right and did my best to prove it to the administrators. I was right about everything else: I was a surgeon.
I now understand that I did not comport myself well. However, it is also true that being labeled a disruptive physician and being threatened with disciplinary actions wasn’t a good approach to addressing my issues. It certainly was less than compassionate.
I mocked and resented the burnout solutions suggested by administrators: get more sleep (during my 72-hour busy call shift?), exercise, stay hydrated, meditate, take a yoga class, etc. Don’t tell me to take a yoga class, fix the damn EMR!
Although I am now stable and functional with a good sense of well-being, and theoretically have the tools to resume practice, I also know that the factors that caused my demise are ubiquitous in the medical profession.
And that, in my case, if I resumed practicing, those factors would probably win: I most likely would not survive another trip to the depths. It saddens me, because I loved (and still love) my profession. The practice of medicine is the most beautiful and noble of human endeavors. I was proud to be a part of it. And I am still flabbergasted that a seemingly minor difference in my experience might have resulted in an entirely different outcome.
Simply: underlying all the factors that caused my burnout was an unmet need: validation.
To have my voice heard. To feel appreciated and understood. To have my thoughts, feelings, struggles, successes, experiences, and abilities acknowledged. To be treated with the dignity, respect, and compassion I deserve. It’s not my fault I burned out.
Yet I still sometimes blame myself; I still sometimes feel like a failure. That I wasn’t strong enough, that I just couldn’t hack it. I still sometimes feel shame and embarrassment. And I still sometimes desperately long for those who contributed to causing my downfall to simply acknowledge the role they played.
I still love the medical profession and the people at its heart. I’m dedicated to helping them address the challenges they face while serving in our broken system of healthcare. My hope is that physicians will take a moment for some deep introspection and acknowledge the challenges/difficulties they are facing.
Moreover, they can get to a place where they are ready, willing and able to accept the healing power of an anonymous, peer support group meeting like those offered by PA.
Had I accepted the validation offered by these meetings I might still be practicing as a happier, healthy version of myself.
Hiking surgeon well being
Hiking has played a hugely positive role in my recovery from burnout, both because of its intrinsically restorative qualities as well as being a useful metaphor for my journey.
I still tend to be goal oriented; I want to reach every summit in the most efficient way possible. But I’ve learned to enjoy the process of the hike; to be able to pause and savor the views along the way. My goal is to end burnout in medicine which for me is like the goal of reaching the summit of Mount Everest: I won’t get there. But I have learned to appreciate the process; the satisfaction of helping even a single individual. When one of us is a little bit better off with respect to burnout our profession and our world become that much better
Hiking has played a hugely positive role in my recovery from burnout, both because of its intrinsically restorative qualities as well as being a useful metaphor for my journey.
Here’s a suggestion: ask your spouse, family, friends, colleagues how they think you are doing, how you are handling work/life balance etc.
Then listen to them.
It takes courage and strength to acknowledge that you are dealing with burnout. There is strength in knowing you are not alone, that others are experiencing similar challenges. There is hope in speaking with others who have overcome similar challenges.
There is fulfillment in realizing something you shared helped someone else. There is relief and healing when you are heard and validated. Peer support groups are effective in reducing the negative impact of burnout.
Physicians Anonymous is anonymous and confidential; if you prefer no one will ever know if you’ve participated in a PA meeting.
Taking care of oneself is not selfish. You can’t pour from an empty cup. You have to put on your own oxygen mask before helping the passenger next to you. To give your best to your patients you must be at your best. I invite you to attend a PA peer support meeting and start refilling your cup.
Taking care of oneself is not selfish. You can’t pour from an empty cup. You have to put on your own oxygen mask before helping the passenger next to you. To give your best to your patients you must be at your best. I invite you to attend a PA peer support meeting and start refilling your cup.
Part 1 of this couple of articles details how I got sucked into the superhero delusion of the stereotypical surgeon. How I swallowed it whole and it made me sick.
Part 2 describes what I did about it and how I am now. I hit rock bottom, got therapy, found peer support, and am now rebuilding my life with insight and more balance. Helping other physicians in difficulty, possibly preventing the career train smash that I went through, is SO rewarding.
To find out more about our groups, please click here.
Thanks for reading!
Brian
