I love the honesty of Mothers in Medicine. I feel compassion for women stretched so thin between two callings. But I’ve got to ask you this: is there more to your life than motherhood and medicine?
I know, I know. For a lot of years, it’s about sleep and survival. But at some point, you’ve got to do you, right? You’re more than a stethoscope, a uterus, and a pair of lactating breasts.
Maybe I’m not saying this right. I definitely don’t mean to act smug. But I know I always wanted to write. I just didn’t want to starve to death, and I liked helping people, so…boom. Medicine. I studied my little heart out. I loved it. Until I lost the residency match, and I had to decide, am I going to keep chasing that ever-elusive subspecialty dream as hard as I can? Or can I do emergency medicine, see my husband sometimes, start a family, and pick up my pen and write again?
I chose the second one. Either road would have been fine, but I’ve built a happy life with my childhood sweetheart and two kids, I’m writing, and I want to tell you not to forget yourself, that secret self that doesn’t necessarily earn money or praise or nurture others, it just is.
Medical-wise, I’ve got privileges at four different hospitals now, and one chief of emerg told me, “No. You can’t do it. You can’t work at four different hospitals. It will kill you.” He also limits his staff’s total number of shifts because he doesn’t want them to burn out. Autocratic? Sure. But he’s the only one I know who treats other physicians like human beings instead of widgets who have to see patients faster and more cheaply every day and night and night and day.
We’ve been talking about how not to lose yourself, not become suicidal, not treat each other like garbage. Thinking about yourself as an individual and not just a service—I’d say that’s the first step. Plus, I thought it would be fun to talk about our secret selves.
Melissa (aka ACLS)
Emergency doctor/writer, mother of an 8 y.o. boy and 3 y.o. girl, in Canada