There are moments as an anesthesiologist you can’t erase. No matter how long you go home and sleep, or how many days pass, you won’t forget it. All of these moments involve saying goodbye; while the scenarios change, the message is the same.
“Yes, you are like that,” said my husband one night as I was lamenting criticism I had heard about myself that day. “I am?” I asked, shocked, a little hurt, and angry. “You are, “ he replied. “Everyone who knows you knows this.”
I don’t think our current level of burnout is hopeless, and I sure as heck don’t think we should give up. I am passionate about taking a step back and evaluating how we got here, and what we can change.
If anyone has similar experiences while pulling into your garage, please let me know. I am interested in studying this unknown disease and figuring out ways to combat it. Surely, somewhere, there is someone who pulls in, jumps out of his or her car with total glee, walks in and says “Honey! I’m home!”
For the rest of us, there is hope. It’s called retirement. And graduation. In the meantime, I’ve stashed dark chocolate almonds in the console of my car.
When you want to grow a muscle, you have to damage it first. You have to lift something heavy and over extend it. It’s sore for a few days - and then it grows stronger …This is what happened to my heart this week.
Sometimes we let ‘weeds’ - very small but negative distractions, creep up and take a strong hold and become intertwined in our lives. The weeds that are obvious – different color, textures, ugly, we pull immediately when they are small. The weeds that say: I don’t belong here – those are easy to pull.