At its very worst, that is how it feels. Like two nights ago, while lying in bed with CindyLou, who was bubbling away about her class Christmas party which was happening the next day when she stopped and said earnestly to me, "Mommy, you know, you can come to the party tomorrow if you want!" And, ugh! That familiar little stab of mommy guilt shot through me once again. It is never that I don't *want* to attend her daytime school Christmas parties, sign language presentations, or field trips (scarcely ever announced any earlier than 2 or 3 weeks prior to the actual day they are happening, assuring that my clinic schedule will be full, and if that isn't the case, I am likely on call). Every morning as I am leaving for work, my kids ask if I am on call. If I say "no," it is met with cheers. If I say "yes," it is met with boos, extra hugs, and sometimes tears. So, yeah, my kids are definitely affected by my chosen profession. (And we are in a situation that is *light years* better than the one we were in prior!)
Unfortunately, as many have stated, medicine is not as "family-friendly" as many other careers can be, and to many physicians, we don't stop working when we leave the office/hospital. Our chosen profession is all consuming in general, and Ob/Gyn can be demanding in particular. I feel you have heard the following from me before, I am having a distinct case of writer's deja vu The hours? Horrible. Babies have no concept of time and generally it seems that labor gets good and active sometime between midnight and 4 am. The pace? Grueling. In a medium sized practice, in order just to cover the cost of your staff and overhead, you have to do a set amount of deliveries just to break even. We get very scant education about the whole "running a business" part of medicine in our training, and while it would be great to see one patient an hour, the practice would go under in a year at that pace. As others have astutely pointed out, part-time in medicine is hardly part-time in any other sense of the word, and for Ob/Gyn, with malpractice costs, you just cannot feasibly make it work. If you want to do Ob, you have to be all in. That means call, and most of us work 24 hour calls followed by a full office or surgery day the next day...way more than what residents are doing in their training these days (makes for a rough transition to the "real world," to be certain.) No one is looking over my shoulder and counting how many hours I worked this week (hint, more than 80!!) Malpractice environment? Scary. No really. It is.
I can't say how many times I've bemoaned my career path, pulling myself from my cozy bed at 12, 1, or 4 am to make the mad dash to the hospital. I've thrown too many one person pity parties to count for myself as I work on nights and weekends and holidays while it seems the rest of the world is spending time with their friends and family (before anyone jumps me, I know this is *not* the case, but, pity party, you know, work with me here), but, by the same token, if I really try to sit and think of anything that I would love to do better, I couldn't tell you a thing. Because in the moment, I really do love my job. Once I am in the door of the hospital and with my patient, bringing her baby safely into the world is the focus of my attention. I never cease to be amazed at the miracle.
My family knows that the work that I have the privilege to do is important, and this is the reason that sometimes I can't be with them....even when I really want to be. I hope they grow up understanding that having a job they are passionate about is important, as well. My house isn't spotless, I'm not homeroom mother, I barely know any of the kids in my children's classes, I don't pick them up or drop them off at school, I don't go to Zumba, and am seldom well put-together (read: schlepping about in scrubs). So no, I don't "have it all." I have a good career. I have wonderful friends and a great relationship with my children and my husband. I think that is the best for which I can ask.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
On Choosing Pathology and its Compatibility with Motherhood
"What, you are going into pathology? But you actually like to talk to people, you are good with patients. Why would you do that?"
I decided to do pathology at the 11th hour. I already had a rumored slot in ophthalmology - I was looking to stay in my hometown as my ex had recently landed a residency in anesthesia here. At the urgency of my brother-in-law, a first year path resident, I did a month rotation in late fall, before the general residency applications were due but after I had completed my San Francisco match application. Despite enjoying the course and doing well in it I thought "Ha, pathology. That is for complete nerds." At the same time, a voice was nagging in the back of my head about ophthalmology - actually an attending's voice, one I met during a summer rotation in another state. "It's not like it used to be. I see 65, 70 patients a day. Do you think I get to talk to them? No. The techs do. I just look and dictate what goes on the chart and run to the next room. My job satisfaction has plummeted."
Before I get railed on by all the ophthalmologists or ophtho wanna-be's out there, my best friend in med school went into ophthalmology, and she is very happy practicing in a small town, doing lots of surgery, and talking to her patients. I just happened upon a woman in a bad job situation - I realize her opinion was not global. But everything you hear affects what you do, and every one's experience counts for something. I worried over ortho after calling, at the urgency of a male colleague, one of the few older female orthopedics in the state. She said, "If you want a family, don't do it. Do something else." I watched another girl friend start orthopedics, than bail out for radiology.
I admire all of the people that enter primary care, but I was never pulled in that direction. Ironic that I am now somewhat of a generalist in pathology. I do it all at a large metropolitan hospital - lab director, bone marrows, lymph nodes, apheresis, cytology, surgical pathology, frozen sections, traveling to small hospitals and clinics to cover the scope of my practice. So I did become a "primary care pathologist," to use a phrase that someone else coined, but more of a diagnostician than anything else.
Pathology residency was very conducive to starting a family. I had two kids during residency and while in retrospect that was probably more than I and my marriage could handle - when I read about the overnight call and the extent to which my colleagues here have to spend time away from their kids, I feel like I got off lucky. Aside from a few autopsies on weekend call it wasn't so bad. When I entered practice I was awed and fearful of my new responsibility and worked overly hard for the first couple of years, but now I find time to take breaks during the day and do other things. I've gotten into a nice groove. Pathology is feast or famine, and there are days when we get pretty busy, but if there is a school program or class party I can always find someone to cover for me so I can get away for an hour or two, even if it means working late. I imagine this is different from an outpatient practice where you have to show up for clinic if there are patients scheduled, no matter what. Difficult to find coverage unless there is an emergency, and emergency is probably the only reason you would cancel a clinic. My group is 13, including part timers, so it is a rare day that there isn't someone who can function as you, if needed, for a little bit. We all lean on each other so no one feels overburdened. I go to a Christmas program. Another partner needs to help her mom that just broke her hip. Someone needs to get to the bank or post office. Someone needs coverage to get to his son's basketball game. It's certainly not daily, but making the important things that fall short of broken bones in the ED is very do-able.
Most of the time, now that I am four years into practice, I have 8 hour days, even though that often means cramming lunch into 10 minutes. We are all used to that from residency, so not much difference there. I hire someone to get my kids to their after school activities - tennis, dance, etc., and often meet them before the activities are over. My current after school help marveled after she had been carpooling my kids around two weeks. "I tell everyone at my church - she's a doctor and she cooks for her kids! Can you believe it?" I laughed at the stereotype that seems to no longer be universally relevant, especially around here, where we are often begging for recipe ideas. Yes, we have our occasional mac and cheese and fish sticks days, but we sit down at night at the table together and talk about our day. We go over our multiplication tables (They go to 12 these days! I only learned to 10 so I had to brush up) and spelling words. We problem solve daily ethical issues - playground misbehavior they have witnessed, etc. We read every night. Call is usually over the phone and only rarely drags me away from my evenings with them. I fix breakfast and take them to school almost every day - I get help when I am on call and covering frozens for early OR's or have to drive to a small town, but that doesn't happen very often, either.
I know that there are not many readers out there who aspire to do pathology compared to the rest of the medical world - there are certainly a lot sexier specialties out there. But it is fun, it is image based, and although I interact a lot with colleagues, I spend a lot of time by myself and the scope - patients are few and far between. I guess one plus is that I get to save most of my emotional energy for my kids, for which I am very grateful. I have heard that jobs are tough to get these days in this specialty - I can understand why because I see that once you get settled in you are happy and it is tough to leave. I know lots of pathologists that work into their 70's and a few who go into their 80's - it is not a physically strenuous job and I'll bet frozen sections and surgical cases make a good match for Sudoku in staving off Alzheimer's. I watch my dad, a neonatologist in his early 60's, still working all nighters and am thankful that never has been, and never will be me (as a pathologist anyway, I hear with teenagers life gets challenging at night). That being said, most people I know get jobs, even if it is not their first choice of location, and I imagine there are location challenges in lots of specialties.
If you want to work part time, that is another story. Think twice about pathology. Part time path jobs are few and far between, and for those I see that have entered into them they either do too much work without benefits and bonuses and/or are not looked kindly upon by their colleagues even though they are taking a big pay cut for their shorter hours. It seems to have been worked out much better in other specialties - I notice pediatrics where I live, but not pathology. I would love to hear any dissension on this point - my only experience in my field is negative.
I agree with Cutter that being a working parent is a challenge many of us face these days, not just doctors. For women and men out there who aspire to be doctors, and have any interest at all in pathology, the field has my vouch for being a good one to combine with parenting. Our group is half men and half women, and the fathers (they all are - two of us are not mothers) seem to get to participate in parenting a lot more than other specialists I have observed or heard about. But you have to enjoy it - it's not for everyone. I feel lucky that I do.
A Hospitalist in Academics
I fell into hospital medicine rather unexpectedly. I knew I wanted to stay in general internal medicine, but I thought I would be a primary care internist. Then, in residency, I discovered how much I loved the inpatient setting - not for the actual medicine part - but for the educational part: I loved teaching and the ability to do so with scale with the large learner-heavy teams on the wards.
A lot of people equate hospitalists with shift work, and in many cases, this is true. Working within well-defined and pre-scheduled shifts may be very alluring to mothers in medicine: predictable hours, a defined schedule, potentially no call, and the flexibility to easily work part-time.
However, for my particular job as a hospitalist in an academic setting, I don't do shift work. Most of my clinical time is supervising resident-run teams (the other clinical time is spent doing consults or supervising a PA-led "non-teaching" service without residents), which means longer or shorter days depending on team census, the acuity of our patients, whether the resident or interns are in clinic for the afternoon, call-days, and how independent my resident is (new R2 very different supervision time than a seasoned R3). I'm available by phone to my teams when they are on call at night. I work many weekends and holidays. And although I can take compensatory days off in lieu of working the holiday, which is great and something I put into action as chief of the hospitalist section, my kids will be home without me.
Parts of my clinical job are absolutely draining, mentally and emotionally. There's the family meetings to discuss goals of care in dying patients who may or may not have decision-making capacity. There's the bearing witness to tremendous suffering -like those with difficulty coping that they have a chronic disease that brings them in and out of the hospital so frequently. But, these parts are also what give me pause - I have a job where I can make a difference. I can make someone's suffering heard, metabolized, and given meaning. I can lead a difficult family discussion and make sure everyone's needs are identified. Hard but good.
I'm in my 9th year as a full-time hospitalist and in that time, have had three children. I've taken on more administrative duties and my weeks on the wards have accordingly decreased. I have the flexibility to do research, to do committee work, to teach. I'm meeting my personal goals of academic success. I feel like I am compensated fairly for my work and the requirement to work some weekends and holidays. This scaling back of clinical duties has been critical to achieving the balance I need as my family has grown. Granted, I worked my butt off in the beginning doing a much heavier clinical schedule, starting a family, and establishing my ability to take on these non-clinical duties and establishing a research agenda to be able to scale back these last few years. On admin time, I have major flexibility. Flexibility to linger after school drop-off and chat with the other moms. Flexibility to help out with my daughter's art class. I know I have a really good thing going. And it works. Like others, key to this working for me is: 1) an amazing husband who shares the responsibilities of our home and family equally (minus this last year when he's been deployed to a war zone but that's the topic of another post...); 2) supportive and nearby family; 3) great childcare (which currently is synonymous with number 2); 4) having a flexible enough work environment and an awesome boss; 5) I try hard not to drink the Working Mother in Medicine Guilt Kool-Aid, no matter how tempting it looks some days. (Note operative word is "try.")
Hard but good. I think that about sums it up.
A lot of people equate hospitalists with shift work, and in many cases, this is true. Working within well-defined and pre-scheduled shifts may be very alluring to mothers in medicine: predictable hours, a defined schedule, potentially no call, and the flexibility to easily work part-time.
However, for my particular job as a hospitalist in an academic setting, I don't do shift work. Most of my clinical time is supervising resident-run teams (the other clinical time is spent doing consults or supervising a PA-led "non-teaching" service without residents), which means longer or shorter days depending on team census, the acuity of our patients, whether the resident or interns are in clinic for the afternoon, call-days, and how independent my resident is (new R2 very different supervision time than a seasoned R3). I'm available by phone to my teams when they are on call at night. I work many weekends and holidays. And although I can take compensatory days off in lieu of working the holiday, which is great and something I put into action as chief of the hospitalist section, my kids will be home without me.
Parts of my clinical job are absolutely draining, mentally and emotionally. There's the family meetings to discuss goals of care in dying patients who may or may not have decision-making capacity. There's the bearing witness to tremendous suffering -like those with difficulty coping that they have a chronic disease that brings them in and out of the hospital so frequently. But, these parts are also what give me pause - I have a job where I can make a difference. I can make someone's suffering heard, metabolized, and given meaning. I can lead a difficult family discussion and make sure everyone's needs are identified. Hard but good.
I'm in my 9th year as a full-time hospitalist and in that time, have had three children. I've taken on more administrative duties and my weeks on the wards have accordingly decreased. I have the flexibility to do research, to do committee work, to teach. I'm meeting my personal goals of academic success. I feel like I am compensated fairly for my work and the requirement to work some weekends and holidays. This scaling back of clinical duties has been critical to achieving the balance I need as my family has grown. Granted, I worked my butt off in the beginning doing a much heavier clinical schedule, starting a family, and establishing my ability to take on these non-clinical duties and establishing a research agenda to be able to scale back these last few years. On admin time, I have major flexibility. Flexibility to linger after school drop-off and chat with the other moms. Flexibility to help out with my daughter's art class. I know I have a really good thing going. And it works. Like others, key to this working for me is: 1) an amazing husband who shares the responsibilities of our home and family equally (minus this last year when he's been deployed to a war zone but that's the topic of another post...); 2) supportive and nearby family; 3) great childcare (which currently is synonymous with number 2); 4) having a flexible enough work environment and an awesome boss; 5) I try hard not to drink the Working Mother in Medicine Guilt Kool-Aid, no matter how tempting it looks some days. (Note operative word is "try.")
Hard but good. I think that about sums it up.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Guest Post: Ruminations on Shift Work from a Mother in Pediatric Emergency Medicine
An emergency medicine physician’s schedule is inherently flexible. I can quickly switch a shift with a colleague to accommodate emergencies since there are no patients to reschedule, trade random hours of coverage in order to make it to a school function, pick up my oldest son from school earlier than the other “late day” kids when I have an early shift.
Almost thirty minutes into the resuscitation, the room has gone quiet except for the ding of the monitor alarm. This five year old victim of smoke inhalation from a house fire has a good airway, two good lines, has received several rounds of epi, fluids, even the useless calcium and bicarb and there is no change. His pupils are fixed and dilated. “Time of death 13:52.” my voice breaks the silence. I walk out of the room and wait for someone to find his mother. She was out when the fire broke out.
I finish notes, try to wrap up my shift. His mom arrives and I sit with her and tell her the news as she cries silently. I hold her hand and then the social worker and chaplain take over. I silently leave the room, sign out to my colleague, and leave to pick up my son, also five, from school down the street.
When I arrive, he runs to greet me and the sudden force of his hug knocks my hair into my face. I smell smoke. I have to hold him longer to get control of the tears that are welling up in my eyes.
Overnight shifts are great for the working mom (who is used to sleep deprivation anyway, right?) Now that the baby sleeps better, they hardly know I’m gone. Their dad can get breakfast ready and I can do last minute lunch prep and kid dressing when I come home after my shift. Then I catch some sleep in a quiet house while the oldest is in school and the baby is with our nanny.
Thirty minutes before the end of my shift the radio alert sounds. I hold my breath as the nurse answers - a 6:30 AM radio call is either a radio check or a dead baby. Unfortunately, today it’s the latter. CPR is in progress. We ready the room, draw up meds, check the laryngoscope, and wait. I review drug doses and intubation technique with the resident and all the while I am just grateful that there’s another hospital closer to my house than the one I work in, because it means that this baby is not my daughter.
She arrives and is stiff and cold. Livedo has set in. We make an effort but mostly to dot our i’s and cross our t’s and give the family time to arrive and bear witness to our efforts. We care, we tried, she is important, we are sorry...... but she is the same age as my daughter and later that morning during my protected sleep time I just lay in the bed and cry, holding one of her blankets to my face.
Shift work is one of the features that is supposed to make emergency medicine ideal for the working mom. But shift work in the pediatric emergency department isn’t really shift work after all. I hope that as I accumulate years of experience that I can compartmentalize better and not “take it home with me,” but that’s not looking so promising since I can’t seem to concentrate when I know that my kids are in someone else’s car until I hear they’ve reached their destination safely. I hope that it’s just because my kids are so young and that as they get older I will worry less - but I know that’s not true as I call the pediatric oncology fellow for her opinion on a teenager with pancytopenia and a mediastinal mass. Perhaps all I can do is somehow convince the universe that bearing witness to the suffering of other children and their families is suffering enough, and then maybe the universe will protect my own children.
*patient details changed to protect patient privacy
Almost thirty minutes into the resuscitation, the room has gone quiet except for the ding of the monitor alarm. This five year old victim of smoke inhalation from a house fire has a good airway, two good lines, has received several rounds of epi, fluids, even the useless calcium and bicarb and there is no change. His pupils are fixed and dilated. “Time of death 13:52.” my voice breaks the silence. I walk out of the room and wait for someone to find his mother. She was out when the fire broke out.
I finish notes, try to wrap up my shift. His mom arrives and I sit with her and tell her the news as she cries silently. I hold her hand and then the social worker and chaplain take over. I silently leave the room, sign out to my colleague, and leave to pick up my son, also five, from school down the street.
When I arrive, he runs to greet me and the sudden force of his hug knocks my hair into my face. I smell smoke. I have to hold him longer to get control of the tears that are welling up in my eyes.
Overnight shifts are great for the working mom (who is used to sleep deprivation anyway, right?) Now that the baby sleeps better, they hardly know I’m gone. Their dad can get breakfast ready and I can do last minute lunch prep and kid dressing when I come home after my shift. Then I catch some sleep in a quiet house while the oldest is in school and the baby is with our nanny.
Thirty minutes before the end of my shift the radio alert sounds. I hold my breath as the nurse answers - a 6:30 AM radio call is either a radio check or a dead baby. Unfortunately, today it’s the latter. CPR is in progress. We ready the room, draw up meds, check the laryngoscope, and wait. I review drug doses and intubation technique with the resident and all the while I am just grateful that there’s another hospital closer to my house than the one I work in, because it means that this baby is not my daughter.
She arrives and is stiff and cold. Livedo has set in. We make an effort but mostly to dot our i’s and cross our t’s and give the family time to arrive and bear witness to our efforts. We care, we tried, she is important, we are sorry...... but she is the same age as my daughter and later that morning during my protected sleep time I just lay in the bed and cry, holding one of her blankets to my face.
Shift work is one of the features that is supposed to make emergency medicine ideal for the working mom. But shift work in the pediatric emergency department isn’t really shift work after all. I hope that as I accumulate years of experience that I can compartmentalize better and not “take it home with me,” but that’s not looking so promising since I can’t seem to concentrate when I know that my kids are in someone else’s car until I hear they’ve reached their destination safely. I hope that it’s just because my kids are so young and that as they get older I will worry less - but I know that’s not true as I call the pediatric oncology fellow for her opinion on a teenager with pancytopenia and a mediastinal mass. Perhaps all I can do is somehow convince the universe that bearing witness to the suffering of other children and their families is suffering enough, and then maybe the universe will protect my own children.
*patient details changed to protect patient privacy
MiM Mailbag: Baby and OB/GYN internship - HELP!
Hi MiM! First, thank you so much for all of your posts, advice, and stories. I can't tell you how much they have helped me, and I'm sure others.
I'm writing because I have a big decision on my hands and I feel as if the women in MiM might be the only ones who can help me make the decision that is right for me. I am a 4th year med student, in the midst of interviewing for residency. I have long been in love with OB/GYN as a field, but not the atmosphere. So, I decided to dual apply in OB/GYN and family medicine, where the people were more like me, and I could possibly still do OB. My decision to apply in FM was also partially influenced by an intense desire to start a family with my husband, who is a PhD student nearing the end of his degree. We tried to conceive for about 7-8 months as I was in the midst of my surgery clerkship and then my OB sub-Is, and as might be expected my best laid plans to have a baby at the middle/end of 4th year crashed and burned. Even though I was devastated and worried about my own fertility, my husband and I decided to stop worrying about trying to get pregnant until after a few years of residency. Of course, the fertility gods decided to play a little joke on us. As soon as we stopped really "trying" - I wound up pregnant. The baby is due in August of my intern year. I really think I want to do OB/GYN, and I really don't want to lose a year of training, but I'm not sure how I will manage having a baby in intern year. I also don't want to start off on such a bad foot not only with my training but with my fellow residents, who might hate me for 4 years!!
I realize there are a lot of pros and cons to either taking a year off, or starting internship 8 months pregnant and giving birth at the beginning of internship. And, there's also the option of choosing FM over OB, since it is more of a baby-friendly residency, but I'd hate to feel like I didn't choose my preferred specialty because I got pregnant. I guess I'm just hoping to get advice from some of you who are much wiser and more experienced than me in all this. I'm not sure how many people have gone through something like this, but if there are any out there who can give me their words of wisdom, I would be incredibly grateful.
I'm a 4th year med student (I'm 27 and married), born and raised in the northeast, and currently double applying in OB/GYN and family medicine. And I'm 5 weeks pregnant.
I'm writing because I have a big decision on my hands and I feel as if the women in MiM might be the only ones who can help me make the decision that is right for me. I am a 4th year med student, in the midst of interviewing for residency. I have long been in love with OB/GYN as a field, but not the atmosphere. So, I decided to dual apply in OB/GYN and family medicine, where the people were more like me, and I could possibly still do OB. My decision to apply in FM was also partially influenced by an intense desire to start a family with my husband, who is a PhD student nearing the end of his degree. We tried to conceive for about 7-8 months as I was in the midst of my surgery clerkship and then my OB sub-Is, and as might be expected my best laid plans to have a baby at the middle/end of 4th year crashed and burned. Even though I was devastated and worried about my own fertility, my husband and I decided to stop worrying about trying to get pregnant until after a few years of residency. Of course, the fertility gods decided to play a little joke on us. As soon as we stopped really "trying" - I wound up pregnant. The baby is due in August of my intern year. I really think I want to do OB/GYN, and I really don't want to lose a year of training, but I'm not sure how I will manage having a baby in intern year. I also don't want to start off on such a bad foot not only with my training but with my fellow residents, who might hate me for 4 years!!
I realize there are a lot of pros and cons to either taking a year off, or starting internship 8 months pregnant and giving birth at the beginning of internship. And, there's also the option of choosing FM over OB, since it is more of a baby-friendly residency, but I'd hate to feel like I didn't choose my preferred specialty because I got pregnant. I guess I'm just hoping to get advice from some of you who are much wiser and more experienced than me in all this. I'm not sure how many people have gone through something like this, but if there are any out there who can give me their words of wisdom, I would be incredibly grateful.
I'm a 4th year med student (I'm 27 and married), born and raised in the northeast, and currently double applying in OB/GYN and family medicine. And I'm 5 weeks pregnant.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
On My Reality as a Primary Care Doc and a Mom
As a premedical and then medical student, and even as a resident, I was hell-bent to practice International Health in a third world country. I spent every clinical second I could in far-flung forgotten corners of the world, doing crazy medical stuff. I never imagined myself practicing Internal medicine at a well-to-do practice at a major academic medical center in a big city in the U.S. As a matter of fact, I scoffed at that idea.
And yet, a decade later, I made the very deliberate choices that led me to exactly this reality. Here I am; and as shocking as it would be to my 20-something self, I am pretty darned happy.
It’s a long story how I came to be where I am, a story involving first my own naivete/ a hefty dose of reality, and then my own evolving understanding of myself/ the world. And a lot of therapy. That’s a whole other essay. Now, I can comfortably talk about balancing my growing family with a rewarding career in Internal medicine.
Here is my reality:
I’ve been in practice for 3 years. I was lucky enough to be hired into this small, unique practice that sits within a very large medical complex. Every provider here is part-time. No one sees patients more than 5 sessions a week. Almost everyone is heavily involved with some other aspect of medicine- academics, administration, research. We are on call for our practice for 7 solid days every 2 or 3 months. The reimbursement and perks are pretty good, for academics. We enjoy wonderful administrative and nursing support. The environment is positive, supportive, and progressive. (And, it is subsidized by the major medical center we live in, because they need us.)
I started off heavy in academics and research as well as my clinical responsibilities, but have dialed it back to only clinical responsibilities, 5 sessions a week, FOR NOW. I’m no longer working with medical students, and no longer participating in research. The reason is that I’m focusing on my family- getting pregnant, being pregnant, being with my very young kids as much as I can. And this practice “gets” me. They’re all OK with me stepping off that career treadmill, because most of my colleagues did much the same thing. I know I’ll be back, and I am not worried.
And, Primary care is fun! After 3 years here, I can walk into the exam room where my patient Jackie is and say, ‘Jackie, What the hell! Three ER visits for weirdo bizarre accidents- A staple gun to the hand? A tool box on your toes? I don’t even want to know about that buttocks injury. What on earth is going on?’and she laughs and says ‘I know, I’m a clutz, we’re doing the DIY thing and I think me and power tools shouldn’t play together. Even when I’m not using one, I trip over it’.
Or ‘Mary, we’ve been playing this diet-exercise-and-weight-loss approach to your blood pressure for two years now, and it’s not working. Don’t you think it’s time to throw in the towel and take some blood pressure medicine already?’And she says ‘I know, I know- I was wondering when you would call me on it. I wanted to try, though, and I appreciate your letting me.’
It makes such a huge difference in my day that I am beginning to KNOW most of my patients. And, they know me. I’ve got photos of my family up, as well as this great pregnant belly, and people ask me about them, and share their own stories… I insist on 20 minute urgent visits and 40 minute physicals for my patients, and all that extra time gets used, with talking. Really talking. I think it works- not only for me, but for my patients as well.
So, for now, I work my 5 sessions over 4 days a week, and in my spare time I do some blogging. The rest of my time and energy is spent with my Babyboy (17 months old) and currently, being 9 months pregnant with soon-to-be Babygirl; as well as quality time with my husband and parents. We moved back to this city to be close to my parents, and my mom takes care of Babyboy when I’m at work. Hubby is one of those dream husbands who shares the cooking, cleaning, laundry and just about everything else, while managing his career in the media. FYI, I am the main breadwinner. Our life is not extravagant; our life IS very comfortable. We know we will never be able to send our kids to private schools, nor afford fancy vacations etc. and that’s OK. What we have- THIS WORKS.
I think that what makes this setup work so well is 1. my working part-time, 2. working in such a great environment, as well as 3. the family support we have. And all this was no accident. When I actually set about looking for a job, these key things were exactly what we (me and my husband) were looking for. We did have to move to get here. But we are glad.
I freely admit that in the world of medicine, primary care reimbursement is abysmal. I make a decent living- compared to our neighbors. Compared to my med school and residency friends who are now gastroenterologists, endocrinologists, hospitalists, anesthesiologists, and many other specialists, I make a pittance, even taking my hours into account.
I get frustrated that my med school loans are so huge. The interest grew and grew all those years while I was in training. What I earn is barely enough to pay the loans/ interest as well as the mortgage etc. I never thought about that for two seconds when I was pre-med or in med school- I always blithely assumed that it would all get taken care of somehow. We manage- and again, overall, we are very satisfied with life. But there are times when I get mad about it, too.
I get frustrated that so much of primary care work is not recognized, or reimbursed. For example, it’s my day off at home, and I just spent three hours logged into the electronic medical record to check lab and radiology results for patients, and send them their results as well as a plan; also called one young patient to inform her she has Chlamydia and needs treatment, spent 30 minutes with her on the phone; refilled numerous meds (ones the nurses could not refill without collaboration); responded to several emails from specialists regarding mutual patients; answered several emails from patients (we have a system where patients can email us with questions, which is great but TAKES TIME); and reviewed my schedule for tomorrow as prep. This is normal. The workday often spills over into the evening and the weekend. It ends up being a lot more than what is registered on the paycheck.
Having voiced all those frustrations, I know that no matter what speciality you end up in, there are always frustrations. No matter what walk of life, really, there will be frustrations- when you’re in the nitty-gritty, the negatives present themselves. But, in the grand scheme of things, I’ll take my career over anything else.
I think that as a doctor-mom, I have it pretty good. Overall, I am, and my family is, very happy.
And yet, a decade later, I made the very deliberate choices that led me to exactly this reality. Here I am; and as shocking as it would be to my 20-something self, I am pretty darned happy.
It’s a long story how I came to be where I am, a story involving first my own naivete/ a hefty dose of reality, and then my own evolving understanding of myself/ the world. And a lot of therapy. That’s a whole other essay. Now, I can comfortably talk about balancing my growing family with a rewarding career in Internal medicine.
Here is my reality:
I’ve been in practice for 3 years. I was lucky enough to be hired into this small, unique practice that sits within a very large medical complex. Every provider here is part-time. No one sees patients more than 5 sessions a week. Almost everyone is heavily involved with some other aspect of medicine- academics, administration, research. We are on call for our practice for 7 solid days every 2 or 3 months. The reimbursement and perks are pretty good, for academics. We enjoy wonderful administrative and nursing support. The environment is positive, supportive, and progressive. (And, it is subsidized by the major medical center we live in, because they need us.)
I started off heavy in academics and research as well as my clinical responsibilities, but have dialed it back to only clinical responsibilities, 5 sessions a week, FOR NOW. I’m no longer working with medical students, and no longer participating in research. The reason is that I’m focusing on my family- getting pregnant, being pregnant, being with my very young kids as much as I can. And this practice “gets” me. They’re all OK with me stepping off that career treadmill, because most of my colleagues did much the same thing. I know I’ll be back, and I am not worried.
And, Primary care is fun! After 3 years here, I can walk into the exam room where my patient Jackie is and say, ‘Jackie, What the hell! Three ER visits for weirdo bizarre accidents- A staple gun to the hand? A tool box on your toes? I don’t even want to know about that buttocks injury. What on earth is going on?’and she laughs and says ‘I know, I’m a clutz, we’re doing the DIY thing and I think me and power tools shouldn’t play together. Even when I’m not using one, I trip over it’.
Or ‘Mary, we’ve been playing this diet-exercise-and-weight-loss approach to your blood pressure for two years now, and it’s not working. Don’t you think it’s time to throw in the towel and take some blood pressure medicine already?’And she says ‘I know, I know- I was wondering when you would call me on it. I wanted to try, though, and I appreciate your letting me.’
It makes such a huge difference in my day that I am beginning to KNOW most of my patients. And, they know me. I’ve got photos of my family up, as well as this great pregnant belly, and people ask me about them, and share their own stories… I insist on 20 minute urgent visits and 40 minute physicals for my patients, and all that extra time gets used, with talking. Really talking. I think it works- not only for me, but for my patients as well.
So, for now, I work my 5 sessions over 4 days a week, and in my spare time I do some blogging. The rest of my time and energy is spent with my Babyboy (17 months old) and currently, being 9 months pregnant with soon-to-be Babygirl; as well as quality time with my husband and parents. We moved back to this city to be close to my parents, and my mom takes care of Babyboy when I’m at work. Hubby is one of those dream husbands who shares the cooking, cleaning, laundry and just about everything else, while managing his career in the media. FYI, I am the main breadwinner. Our life is not extravagant; our life IS very comfortable. We know we will never be able to send our kids to private schools, nor afford fancy vacations etc. and that’s OK. What we have- THIS WORKS.
I think that what makes this setup work so well is 1. my working part-time, 2. working in such a great environment, as well as 3. the family support we have. And all this was no accident. When I actually set about looking for a job, these key things were exactly what we (me and my husband) were looking for. We did have to move to get here. But we are glad.
I freely admit that in the world of medicine, primary care reimbursement is abysmal. I make a decent living- compared to our neighbors. Compared to my med school and residency friends who are now gastroenterologists, endocrinologists, hospitalists, anesthesiologists, and many other specialists, I make a pittance, even taking my hours into account.
I get frustrated that my med school loans are so huge. The interest grew and grew all those years while I was in training. What I earn is barely enough to pay the loans/ interest as well as the mortgage etc. I never thought about that for two seconds when I was pre-med or in med school- I always blithely assumed that it would all get taken care of somehow. We manage- and again, overall, we are very satisfied with life. But there are times when I get mad about it, too.
I get frustrated that so much of primary care work is not recognized, or reimbursed. For example, it’s my day off at home, and I just spent three hours logged into the electronic medical record to check lab and radiology results for patients, and send them their results as well as a plan; also called one young patient to inform her she has Chlamydia and needs treatment, spent 30 minutes with her on the phone; refilled numerous meds (ones the nurses could not refill without collaboration); responded to several emails from specialists regarding mutual patients; answered several emails from patients (we have a system where patients can email us with questions, which is great but TAKES TIME); and reviewed my schedule for tomorrow as prep. This is normal. The workday often spills over into the evening and the weekend. It ends up being a lot more than what is registered on the paycheck.
Having voiced all those frustrations, I know that no matter what speciality you end up in, there are always frustrations. No matter what walk of life, really, there will be frustrations- when you’re in the nitty-gritty, the negatives present themselves. But, in the grand scheme of things, I’ll take my career over anything else.
I think that as a doctor-mom, I have it pretty good. Overall, I am, and my family is, very happy.
Medicine: Not for mothers?
I have to be honest: I'm a little burned out on writing about what PM&R is and why it's so awesome. I've covered it before both on Mothers in Medicine and on my own blog. People email me questions about it frequently, which I'm happy to answer, but... it's just hard to motivate myself to write yet another post about it.
So with the permission of our lovely moderator KC, I'd like to address the topic week a little more generally, and say some things that have been weighing on me lately. Namely:
Medicine is not a great career for a mother.
There, I said it.
Since we were asked to address which aspects are not family friendly, allow me to do so:
1) Unpredictable
When you're dealing with sick people, you can't predict your schedule, whether you're doing inpatient or outpatient. You might think you're going to be done at 5PM, and then your last patient will say, "Oh by the way, I'm having 10 out of 10 chest pain." Imagine it's 6PM, your patient says that, and you know your daycare will close in 15 minutes. It can (and will) happen.
2) Unforgiving of illness
Have I written about this one enough? I think I have. When you've got two children who pass colds back and forth (and then to you), you realize how difficult it is to be in a job where you basically can't call in sick.
3) Must work part time to work "only" full time.
An attending I talked to at a VA (not exactly a rigorous working environment) said that she had to cut back to working 75% time in order to only work 40 hours per week. Between on call time, documentation, phone calls, etc, the hours on your contract don't in any way resemble the hours you work.
4) Will mess with your sleep/wake cycle
It's bad enough worrying that a baby will wake you up. Worrying that a baby OR a pager will wake you up is enough to drive you crazy. I like my sleep, so this is a big one for me. How many times have I wished to be in a job where I could sleep through the night every night... ah, heaven.
5) Residency is killer
Dare I say that no residency is actually friendly to mothers? Yes, I'll say it. I'm sure some of you will come up with exceptions, but I think it's pretty overwhelmingly true.
6) You can't take a break
In a lot of careers, you could probably take a year or two off after your child is born. In medicine, it's much harder. You forget stuff and are rusty when you get back... not a great thing when you're dealing with people's lives. Taking long breaks is also a bit of a dink on your "permanent record." I once tried to apply for hospital privileges through a computer system and the program would not let me submit because I couldn't "account for" the 1.5 months between med school graduation and the start of internship. If I had taken a year off, the computer probably would have exploded.
7) The consequences of a mistake are so horrible
When you're a doctor, you can't mess up. People's lives and livelihood are at stake. You can't be careless for the sake of getting out a little earlier.
Truthfully, I sometimes feel like the entire school system is lagging behind the idea that two parents might be working. I mean, the school day ends at 3PM, which is extremely inconvenient for working parents. Kids get random weeks off from school during the year and the whole summer. And if they get sick, they're supposed to stay home. What on earth are we supposed to do with them if both parents work?
OK, but here's the good news:
I work as a consultant, which allows me to have a lot more flexibility. While I can't just not show up, it's not as big a deal to shift my hours. And the base salary for most physicians is enough that we can work part time (i.e. normal people's full time) and still bring home a good paycheck. (If you want to read more about what makes PM&R a good specialty for mothers, you can click on the link I mentioned above.) And if you enjoy the work you're doing, presumably you're happier in general and therefore a better parent (maybe).
But it's hard not to get a nagging feeling that when you're trying to juggle both motherhood and medicine, you're failing a little at both.
So with the permission of our lovely moderator KC, I'd like to address the topic week a little more generally, and say some things that have been weighing on me lately. Namely:
Medicine is not a great career for a mother.
There, I said it.
Since we were asked to address which aspects are not family friendly, allow me to do so:
1) Unpredictable
When you're dealing with sick people, you can't predict your schedule, whether you're doing inpatient or outpatient. You might think you're going to be done at 5PM, and then your last patient will say, "Oh by the way, I'm having 10 out of 10 chest pain." Imagine it's 6PM, your patient says that, and you know your daycare will close in 15 minutes. It can (and will) happen.
2) Unforgiving of illness
Have I written about this one enough? I think I have. When you've got two children who pass colds back and forth (and then to you), you realize how difficult it is to be in a job where you basically can't call in sick.
3) Must work part time to work "only" full time.
An attending I talked to at a VA (not exactly a rigorous working environment) said that she had to cut back to working 75% time in order to only work 40 hours per week. Between on call time, documentation, phone calls, etc, the hours on your contract don't in any way resemble the hours you work.
4) Will mess with your sleep/wake cycle
It's bad enough worrying that a baby will wake you up. Worrying that a baby OR a pager will wake you up is enough to drive you crazy. I like my sleep, so this is a big one for me. How many times have I wished to be in a job where I could sleep through the night every night... ah, heaven.
5) Residency is killer
Dare I say that no residency is actually friendly to mothers? Yes, I'll say it. I'm sure some of you will come up with exceptions, but I think it's pretty overwhelmingly true.
6) You can't take a break
In a lot of careers, you could probably take a year or two off after your child is born. In medicine, it's much harder. You forget stuff and are rusty when you get back... not a great thing when you're dealing with people's lives. Taking long breaks is also a bit of a dink on your "permanent record." I once tried to apply for hospital privileges through a computer system and the program would not let me submit because I couldn't "account for" the 1.5 months between med school graduation and the start of internship. If I had taken a year off, the computer probably would have exploded.
7) The consequences of a mistake are so horrible
When you're a doctor, you can't mess up. People's lives and livelihood are at stake. You can't be careless for the sake of getting out a little earlier.
Truthfully, I sometimes feel like the entire school system is lagging behind the idea that two parents might be working. I mean, the school day ends at 3PM, which is extremely inconvenient for working parents. Kids get random weeks off from school during the year and the whole summer. And if they get sick, they're supposed to stay home. What on earth are we supposed to do with them if both parents work?
OK, but here's the good news:
I work as a consultant, which allows me to have a lot more flexibility. While I can't just not show up, it's not as big a deal to shift my hours. And the base salary for most physicians is enough that we can work part time (i.e. normal people's full time) and still bring home a good paycheck. (If you want to read more about what makes PM&R a good specialty for mothers, you can click on the link I mentioned above.) And if you enjoy the work you're doing, presumably you're happier in general and therefore a better parent (maybe).
But it's hard not to get a nagging feeling that when you're trying to juggle both motherhood and medicine, you're failing a little at both.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Topic Week: brief thoughts...
I struggled about what to post for topic week. I feel like I should post as a voice of one of the “not family friendly” specialties and a resident, but also I feel like I’m still so much in the middle of training that I don’t have perspective yet. So, all I have to say is this - It can be done. Its hard for all of us - pediatricians, anesthesiologist, OB/GYN’s, surgeons, residents, medical students (I’m just naming some specialties that I know mom-docs). In all honesty, I think its hard just to be a working mom of any type. But, people do it. Children survive and succeed. I love medicine and patients and surgery and I LOVE being a mom. I’m just going to keep doing my best, using my support systems, asking for help and praying that I do this right.
Also, I welcome any specific questions!
Guest post: Med Peds
In medical school, I started off wanting to do Family Practice. I always knew that I wanted to do primary care. With Family Practice, I would be able to see the whole spectrum of ages, and care for the whole family across generations. While I was in the midst of planning my 4th year rotations, a friend suggested that I consider Med Peds. It was about the same time that I realized how little Peds rotations are required in Family Practice, and how much OB was required. I knew that I wasn’t going to do OB, so it seemed like a complete waste of time.
I ended up matching in Med Peds, and realized after the first 3 months of internship when we switched specialties that I was in deep trouble. (My program, typical of many Med Peds programs, has residents switch from Medicine to Peds every 3 months and so on.) Throughout my residency, I felt like I was constantly behind all my categorical colleagues. I was also tired of having to do so many inpatient and ICU rotations. That’s what happens when you try and cram two 3 year residencies into 4 years.
When I got pregnant in my 4th year, I was forced to give up my international rotation. I was very upset, and felt that I was being punished for being a woman and pregnant. (This harkens to all the blog entries and posts about residency requirements for maternity leave, time off, etc etc.) There were too many core rotations to do, and so I couldn’t do a “fluff” rotation when I was already going to take time off for maternity leave. (I took 8 weeks off after having a C-section for a premie, and then in the midst of trying to establish breastfeeding, went back to outpatient clinic 2 half days a week 2 weeks afterwards, and also had to do a rotation that involved reading books and writing papers. After all that, I had to make up 2 weeks at the end of residency.)
In retrospect, I would have just forced myself to pick either Medicine or Peds. It was too stressful trying to do both. At heart though, I do enjoy being a Med Peds doctor. I still enjoy taking care of the whole spectrum of ages, and feel that I received excellent training despite feeling behind my categorical colleagues during residency.
The best part of it is that after practicing for a few years in a more traditional setting with lots of inpatient call, I now have a job that is 100% outpatient. I see patients Mon to Fri, and have no weekend and no overnight inpatient calls. Yes, I do have to be available 24-7 to answer telephone calls, but it’s a world of difference from having to go in to the hospital in the middle of the night. With primary care, it’s entirely possible to find a group that does purely outpatient. Additionally, you have the option of doing urgent care or being a hospitalist, and these types of options are far better in my mind than traditional outpatient plus inpatient duties. With the increasing popularity of hospitalists, both adult and peds (though peds is now just starting to catch on), there are now more and more options for practices that allow you to work more regular hours where you can actually see your kids. It will be not prestigious or lead to awards and recognition if you are looking for a purely outpatient job, but as long as you don’t aspire toward a distinguished academic reputation, then you have options.
I ended up matching in Med Peds, and realized after the first 3 months of internship when we switched specialties that I was in deep trouble. (My program, typical of many Med Peds programs, has residents switch from Medicine to Peds every 3 months and so on.) Throughout my residency, I felt like I was constantly behind all my categorical colleagues. I was also tired of having to do so many inpatient and ICU rotations. That’s what happens when you try and cram two 3 year residencies into 4 years.
When I got pregnant in my 4th year, I was forced to give up my international rotation. I was very upset, and felt that I was being punished for being a woman and pregnant. (This harkens to all the blog entries and posts about residency requirements for maternity leave, time off, etc etc.) There were too many core rotations to do, and so I couldn’t do a “fluff” rotation when I was already going to take time off for maternity leave. (I took 8 weeks off after having a C-section for a premie, and then in the midst of trying to establish breastfeeding, went back to outpatient clinic 2 half days a week 2 weeks afterwards, and also had to do a rotation that involved reading books and writing papers. After all that, I had to make up 2 weeks at the end of residency.)
In retrospect, I would have just forced myself to pick either Medicine or Peds. It was too stressful trying to do both. At heart though, I do enjoy being a Med Peds doctor. I still enjoy taking care of the whole spectrum of ages, and feel that I received excellent training despite feeling behind my categorical colleagues during residency.
The best part of it is that after practicing for a few years in a more traditional setting with lots of inpatient call, I now have a job that is 100% outpatient. I see patients Mon to Fri, and have no weekend and no overnight inpatient calls. Yes, I do have to be available 24-7 to answer telephone calls, but it’s a world of difference from having to go in to the hospital in the middle of the night. With primary care, it’s entirely possible to find a group that does purely outpatient. Additionally, you have the option of doing urgent care or being a hospitalist, and these types of options are far better in my mind than traditional outpatient plus inpatient duties. With the increasing popularity of hospitalists, both adult and peds (though peds is now just starting to catch on), there are now more and more options for practices that allow you to work more regular hours where you can actually see your kids. It will be not prestigious or lead to awards and recognition if you are looking for a purely outpatient job, but as long as you don’t aspire toward a distinguished academic reputation, then you have options.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Career Topic Week
Our next Mothers in Medicine topic week (weeks where we feature posts from our regular contributors and readers on one topic; morphed from the original topic days when we had way too many posts for 24 hours...) will be next week, December 12-16, with the topic being our chosen medical specialties, as they relate to being a fit for our lives as mothers in medicine. Posts may address aspects of our specialties that are family-friendly, which aspects are not family-friendly, things we wish we would have known before choosing our specialties, opportunities for part-time work, and really any musings on the topic.
You can link to prior topic week posts from the sidebar to see examples.
If you'd like to contribute a guest post for topic week, please send it as a word document to mothersinmedicine@gmail.com. Would love to have them!
Thanks, as always, for reading and being part of this community.
You can link to prior topic week posts from the sidebar to see examples.
If you'd like to contribute a guest post for topic week, please send it as a word document to mothersinmedicine@gmail.com. Would love to have them!
Thanks, as always, for reading and being part of this community.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Thinking big
There's a young physician named Dr. Thompson who works at my hospital. A few days ago, I heard some staff members talking about Dr. Thompson:
"Someday, I'm going to turn on the TV and Dr. Thompson will be talking about something important, and I'll be like I KNOW THAT GUY!"
On one hand, I was a little insulted that nobody would say that about me. On the other hand, I agree. Dr. Thompson is smart and has ambition. While I am thinking, "How can I help my patient?" Dr. Thompson is always thinking, "How can I help this hospital? How can I help my field? How can I help the planet?" I could never think as big as he does. Mostly, I'm just trying to get through the day.
I wonder, is it because I'm a woman with kids? Does that take the fight out of me? Is it possible to be a mother of young children and also think big?
Recently, I saw a list of all the female world leaders. There are currently 20 female presidents and prime ministers, which is a record number, and half of the 10 most populous countries in the world have female leaders. These are all women (many of them mothers) who clearly think big.
It was sort of inspiring to see that list. I guess it means I have no excuse.
"Someday, I'm going to turn on the TV and Dr. Thompson will be talking about something important, and I'll be like I KNOW THAT GUY!"
On one hand, I was a little insulted that nobody would say that about me. On the other hand, I agree. Dr. Thompson is smart and has ambition. While I am thinking, "How can I help my patient?" Dr. Thompson is always thinking, "How can I help this hospital? How can I help my field? How can I help the planet?" I could never think as big as he does. Mostly, I'm just trying to get through the day.
I wonder, is it because I'm a woman with kids? Does that take the fight out of me? Is it possible to be a mother of young children and also think big?
Recently, I saw a list of all the female world leaders. There are currently 20 female presidents and prime ministers, which is a record number, and half of the 10 most populous countries in the world have female leaders. These are all women (many of them mothers) who clearly think big.
It was sort of inspiring to see that list. I guess it means I have no excuse.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
MiM Mailbag: Working abroad
My non-physician husband and I have a wanderlust that is not well satisfied due to the constraints of my job. We would love to live abroad when our children are at an age where they can appreciate the experience, but not too old that they wouldn't want to hang out with mom and dad or have their education interrupted in any significant way. Ideally when our daughter is 11 or 12 and our yet-to-be-born son is about 8 or 9. We are actually pretty open to where we would live as long it is safe for a young expat family.
There are two big issues - the first is that (aside from broken Spanish) I don't speak any other languages and the second is that my huge educational debt would prevent me from going without a salary for very long. I don't need to make as much as I would as a US employed physician, but I can't be a volunteer. I also know that medical licenses limited to one country, and most countries will not allow you to practice without licensure through their own boards (perhaps Australia and New Zealand are exceptions? I heard they are cracking down on foreign MDs due to some recent issues with substandard care).
I have a very half baked dream of working for a US embassy (perhaps doing IM) but not sure if that is really feasible or if that circumvents the issues of needing additional licensure. Locums is also an option, but have heard mixed reviews of some of the agencies. I also emailed a few agencies and never heard anything back.
I have noticed that there is quiet a bit of international readership of this blog. I would be interested to know if anyone has information regarding American physicians who would like to work abroad.
Many thanks in advance,
s
www.theredhumor.com
There are two big issues - the first is that (aside from broken Spanish) I don't speak any other languages and the second is that my huge educational debt would prevent me from going without a salary for very long. I don't need to make as much as I would as a US employed physician, but I can't be a volunteer. I also know that medical licenses limited to one country, and most countries will not allow you to practice without licensure through their own boards (perhaps Australia and New Zealand are exceptions? I heard they are cracking down on foreign MDs due to some recent issues with substandard care).
I have a very half baked dream of working for a US embassy (perhaps doing IM) but not sure if that is really feasible or if that circumvents the issues of needing additional licensure. Locums is also an option, but have heard mixed reviews of some of the agencies. I also emailed a few agencies and never heard anything back.
I have noticed that there is quiet a bit of international readership of this blog. I would be interested to know if anyone has information regarding American physicians who would like to work abroad.
Many thanks in advance,
s
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
My Morning
My morning before I even get to work:
--Wake up (duh)
--Shower
--Get dressed (OK, nothing remarkable yet)
--Breast pump ~20 minutes
--Pack up breast pump to take to work
--Nurse on other breast
--Change baby diaper
--Change baby clothes
--Wake up Mel
--Cajole Mel into getting dressed, sometimes doing it for her
--Make Mel breakfast
--Pour defrosted milk into pre-made bottles
--Pack up bottles with icepack + extra diapers or whatever else daycare ran out of
--More cajoling for Mel's jacket and shoes
--Get both kids into car
--Drop off Mel at kindergarten: kisses, clinging, tears
--Drop off baby at daycare: put bottles in fridge, peel off baby jacket, fill out "day sheet"
--Drive to work
Honestly, by the time I get to work, I've already been up for hours and it feels like the day must be almost over.
What's your pre-work ritual like?
--Wake up (duh)
--Shower
--Get dressed (OK, nothing remarkable yet)
--Breast pump ~20 minutes
--Pack up breast pump to take to work
--Nurse on other breast
--Change baby diaper
--Change baby clothes
--Wake up Mel
--Cajole Mel into getting dressed, sometimes doing it for her
--Make Mel breakfast
--Pour defrosted milk into pre-made bottles
--Pack up bottles with icepack + extra diapers or whatever else daycare ran out of
--More cajoling for Mel's jacket and shoes
--Get both kids into car
--Drop off Mel at kindergarten: kisses, clinging, tears
--Drop off baby at daycare: put bottles in fridge, peel off baby jacket, fill out "day sheet"
--Drive to work
Honestly, by the time I get to work, I've already been up for hours and it feels like the day must be almost over.
What's your pre-work ritual like?
Friday, November 18, 2011
Your worst sick story
After my last post, my husband still refuses to believe doctors/residents get chastised for calling in sick.
Help me out. Tell me your WORST story about you or a coworker calling in sick. Like how you called in sick and then your chief resident drove to your house and beat you to a bloody pulp.
Help me out. Tell me your WORST story about you or a coworker calling in sick. Like how you called in sick and then your chief resident drove to your house and beat you to a bloody pulp.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Sick Days, Part the Millionth
I'm a PGY3 resident and my one year old baby has her first cold. I'm sick too. She's congested and can't sleep for more than about 30 minutes at a time. At 4AM, I realize that between being very sick and getting zero sleep, I don't know how I'm going to get through a busy clinic that day. I decide to text message the chief resident that I'm sick and won't be in that day, as well as sending an email.
The next morning, I wake up to a furious email from the chief, saying that my text woke her up and now she (also sick) has to cover my clinic after being woken up. I was inconsiderate on not one but two counts. (Had I not woken her up, I'm sure I would have somehow been yelled at for not letting them know soon enough.)
Later that year, I get tracheitis (whatever that is). I can't talk more than a few words. I come to work, but get sent home midday by my attending. I call the new chief to tell him I'm going to stay home the next day. I don't have anything even scheduled and was just supposed to "help out" with extra consults. "Well," he says, "I can dock you for the half day you took off today and a full day tomorrow. But the problem is, you can't take off more than six weeks in a year or else you have to make it up."
"Are you serious?" I'm baffled. "This is my second sick day. Do you have me recorded as taking off more days than that?"
"I'm just warning you."
Eventually, you get the message. Never call in sick. You get trained, like a dog or a seal.
I feel like now I need somebody to tell me when it's appropriate to take a sick day. In the past, before I got "trained," I took sick days when I needed to, sometimes more readily than I should have. Now I've gone too far in the other direction. There's a balance between being responsible about your job and ignoring family/health issues. When I tell someone that my child has a fever of 102 and is throwing up, yet I'm at work, it's almost a little embarrassing. Where are my priorities?
Recently, I had a pretty serious family emergency, and although I came to work, I left early. Unfortunately, I had a meeting in the afternoon where my presence was crucial. When I talked to the attending coordinating the meeting, I explained the situation and he said he'd have to cancel the meeting.
"Oh god, I feel awful about that!" I said. "Maybe I should just go to the meeting."
The attending looked at me like I was out of my mind. "Fizzy, stop it! You're being ridiculous. We'll just reschedule."
I felt grateful but also really ashamed over the decision I almost made.
The next morning, I wake up to a furious email from the chief, saying that my text woke her up and now she (also sick) has to cover my clinic after being woken up. I was inconsiderate on not one but two counts. (Had I not woken her up, I'm sure I would have somehow been yelled at for not letting them know soon enough.)
Later that year, I get tracheitis (whatever that is). I can't talk more than a few words. I come to work, but get sent home midday by my attending. I call the new chief to tell him I'm going to stay home the next day. I don't have anything even scheduled and was just supposed to "help out" with extra consults. "Well," he says, "I can dock you for the half day you took off today and a full day tomorrow. But the problem is, you can't take off more than six weeks in a year or else you have to make it up."
"Are you serious?" I'm baffled. "This is my second sick day. Do you have me recorded as taking off more days than that?"
"I'm just warning you."
Eventually, you get the message. Never call in sick. You get trained, like a dog or a seal.
I feel like now I need somebody to tell me when it's appropriate to take a sick day. In the past, before I got "trained," I took sick days when I needed to, sometimes more readily than I should have. Now I've gone too far in the other direction. There's a balance between being responsible about your job and ignoring family/health issues. When I tell someone that my child has a fever of 102 and is throwing up, yet I'm at work, it's almost a little embarrassing. Where are my priorities?
Recently, I had a pretty serious family emergency, and although I came to work, I left early. Unfortunately, I had a meeting in the afternoon where my presence was crucial. When I talked to the attending coordinating the meeting, I explained the situation and he said he'd have to cancel the meeting.
"Oh god, I feel awful about that!" I said. "Maybe I should just go to the meeting."
The attending looked at me like I was out of my mind. "Fizzy, stop it! You're being ridiculous. We'll just reschedule."
I felt grateful but also really ashamed over the decision I almost made.
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