Mortality and Maturity
Well, it's been awhile since I authored my own blog. It seems that January was a very slow month for blog worthy topics. I guess I spent most of it trying to recoup from the holidays. That and the fact I was tired from the previous few months' of going out and getting burned out.
I've noticed that my inclination to go out and get wasted is much less this new year. It seems I don't think of it as fun anymore. I guess I've seen and experienced a few things that have recalibrated my vision for life. Two events in particular have brought to fore my own maturity. If you don't want to read a depressing blog, it's time to stop now!!!
Anyways, a friend of mine has been going through an incredibly difficult time in her life. Her father was suffering from Brain Cancer for about a year when he recently died. Despite the fact that she knew it was coming, it was certainly hard on her nonetheless. The situation made more difficult by the fact that her father was a half a world away, but immediately in her heart, mind, and memories.
My own mother was recently diagnosed with a parotid gland tumor. While it seemed fairly benign, my own medical knowledge kicked in and I realized that there still a chance it could be malignant. Being the Asian Drama Queen that she is, my mom made it seem like she was in her last dying days. Nevertheless, I flew back to be with her during this difficult time. The surgery went fine and she luckily was diagnosed with a benign parotid tumor.
Which brings me to my current state.
There are a lot of things you think about during these times. You think about the life that you had, the life you are living, and the life that is to be. Mostly its the first one that gets me. My mother and I have had lots of memories together - bad and good. I think about the times when her own life was just a shadow of one, yet she had the time to smile at me and love me. When I think of how hard my life is or can be, I think of hers, and I don't feel so bad anymore, just lucky. I can't say I've had the easiest life, nor am I going to say I had the hardest. However, the setbacks and laments have been there and the suffering and sometimes despair have been experienced. But as bad as life gets, there can always be worse, no matter what you're going through.
Which brings me to the present. Where am I going and what am I doing? Well, I wish I knew. I've always prided myself on being Type A. Well, at least the silent Type A if there is such a thing. Problem is, I don't know how much longer that personality type will keep me going. A year ago, while in residency, I was in despair. Working 100 hours a week, getting yelled at for trying my best to help, being chronically fatigued, having no time for my generous and loving wife, and no time for me was wearing on me quite quickly. My problem is that I give 110% to everything, and I hate it when I don't. Being a surgery resident forces you to give 150% to that job and somewhere else in your life, something has to take a backseat. Add to that the constant reminders of death, illness, suffering, and despair, you have the makings of a horrible basketcase.
But it was more than that. I went into medicine and surgery because I honestly thought it was all about helping people. Utilizing my knowledge of science and medicine, I thought I could give the world something back for what its given me (I was a pretty sick child - the hospitals knew me well). Little did I know what was in store.
I knew that medicine did not pay as much as other fields I could have entered. I could make more money doing other things, I know that. Add to that the med school loans and doctors don't make as much as the general public believes. In fact, during residency, I often made minimum wage. But I never thought the pay difference would matter to me as long as I had a satisfying patient-physician relationship. To me, the best part of being a surgeon is the extremes. There is nothing as good as to tell a patient that things will be okay. There is nothing as touching as to see the final moments between a patient and their loved ones. I thought that all the pain, fatigue, emotional damage, and psychological starain would be worth it if I could succeed in being the patient's caregiver first and a surgeon second.
Little did I know. As I have traversed through 2 years of intensive surgery training, I've realized that it is not how smart, how caring, or even how efficient you are that determines your standing as a surgeon. It all simply boils down to to things: politics and survival. Now, a lot of realists will pipe up and say that this is what I should have known and expected. True. However, this is medicine and surgery, not business or sports. Darwinian instincts should play less of a role than human understanding and unconditional compassion. But that was and is not the case. There are more people in my field who are there for selfish reasons than there are people who are there to actually help patients. Its sad, but true. It is this same group of people that place less of an importance on caring and humanity and more of an importance on the number of papers you publish, the number of cases you do, the number of hours you work, and the number of asses you kiss. They end up somehow running the surgical establishment. Problem is, they are bringing down the sanctity of the patient-physician relationship and taking me down with them.
I don't know where to go after these two years are finished in the lab. I love operating and I love caring for people. But I don't know if that is worth enduring the pain, the politics, the fatigue, the personal loss, and the spousal suffering that occurs concomitantly.
Which brings me to my life that is to be. I always had a paradigm for how my life would be when I turned 30. Luckily the biggest part of that paradigm is true - I am married to the love of my life and my best friend. The other parts are not so clear. I always imagined myself having a nice house (not a huge mansion, but just a nice one) which was on a large lot to be secluded away from the rigors of everyday living. Of course, I don't get that living in California, and I don't know if I ever will. Even more important, I wanted my home to be a seclusion - an escape to where comfort could be attained at a quiet and reasonable environment. I'm not there yet. What is worse is that I have a bad habit of comparing. I compare myself to others my age. They are all living in big houses and some have nicer cars than I do.
It may sound materialistic (and to some extent it is) but its more a feeling of unfairness. I have sacrificed more than many in my life. While some opted to go and party, I stayed home and studied. While some decided to sleep, I pulled all-nighters to prepare for an exam. There are hundreds of things I've sacrificed that others have not to get to where I am. It may sound INCREDIBLY selfish, but for someone who constantly tries to give for a living, it'd be nice to be a little self-centered in my own ways.
Ah well.. this blog has turned into a rant session.. no more of that for now. Soon my blogs will be taken back down the road of indecency. Well at least that's something to look forward to.
I've noticed that my inclination to go out and get wasted is much less this new year. It seems I don't think of it as fun anymore. I guess I've seen and experienced a few things that have recalibrated my vision for life. Two events in particular have brought to fore my own maturity. If you don't want to read a depressing blog, it's time to stop now!!!
Anyways, a friend of mine has been going through an incredibly difficult time in her life. Her father was suffering from Brain Cancer for about a year when he recently died. Despite the fact that she knew it was coming, it was certainly hard on her nonetheless. The situation made more difficult by the fact that her father was a half a world away, but immediately in her heart, mind, and memories.
My own mother was recently diagnosed with a parotid gland tumor. While it seemed fairly benign, my own medical knowledge kicked in and I realized that there still a chance it could be malignant. Being the Asian Drama Queen that she is, my mom made it seem like she was in her last dying days. Nevertheless, I flew back to be with her during this difficult time. The surgery went fine and she luckily was diagnosed with a benign parotid tumor.
Which brings me to my current state.
There are a lot of things you think about during these times. You think about the life that you had, the life you are living, and the life that is to be. Mostly its the first one that gets me. My mother and I have had lots of memories together - bad and good. I think about the times when her own life was just a shadow of one, yet she had the time to smile at me and love me. When I think of how hard my life is or can be, I think of hers, and I don't feel so bad anymore, just lucky. I can't say I've had the easiest life, nor am I going to say I had the hardest. However, the setbacks and laments have been there and the suffering and sometimes despair have been experienced. But as bad as life gets, there can always be worse, no matter what you're going through.
Which brings me to the present. Where am I going and what am I doing? Well, I wish I knew. I've always prided myself on being Type A. Well, at least the silent Type A if there is such a thing. Problem is, I don't know how much longer that personality type will keep me going. A year ago, while in residency, I was in despair. Working 100 hours a week, getting yelled at for trying my best to help, being chronically fatigued, having no time for my generous and loving wife, and no time for me was wearing on me quite quickly. My problem is that I give 110% to everything, and I hate it when I don't. Being a surgery resident forces you to give 150% to that job and somewhere else in your life, something has to take a backseat. Add to that the constant reminders of death, illness, suffering, and despair, you have the makings of a horrible basketcase.
But it was more than that. I went into medicine and surgery because I honestly thought it was all about helping people. Utilizing my knowledge of science and medicine, I thought I could give the world something back for what its given me (I was a pretty sick child - the hospitals knew me well). Little did I know what was in store.
I knew that medicine did not pay as much as other fields I could have entered. I could make more money doing other things, I know that. Add to that the med school loans and doctors don't make as much as the general public believes. In fact, during residency, I often made minimum wage. But I never thought the pay difference would matter to me as long as I had a satisfying patient-physician relationship. To me, the best part of being a surgeon is the extremes. There is nothing as good as to tell a patient that things will be okay. There is nothing as touching as to see the final moments between a patient and their loved ones. I thought that all the pain, fatigue, emotional damage, and psychological starain would be worth it if I could succeed in being the patient's caregiver first and a surgeon second.
Little did I know. As I have traversed through 2 years of intensive surgery training, I've realized that it is not how smart, how caring, or even how efficient you are that determines your standing as a surgeon. It all simply boils down to to things: politics and survival. Now, a lot of realists will pipe up and say that this is what I should have known and expected. True. However, this is medicine and surgery, not business or sports. Darwinian instincts should play less of a role than human understanding and unconditional compassion. But that was and is not the case. There are more people in my field who are there for selfish reasons than there are people who are there to actually help patients. Its sad, but true. It is this same group of people that place less of an importance on caring and humanity and more of an importance on the number of papers you publish, the number of cases you do, the number of hours you work, and the number of asses you kiss. They end up somehow running the surgical establishment. Problem is, they are bringing down the sanctity of the patient-physician relationship and taking me down with them.
I don't know where to go after these two years are finished in the lab. I love operating and I love caring for people. But I don't know if that is worth enduring the pain, the politics, the fatigue, the personal loss, and the spousal suffering that occurs concomitantly.
Which brings me to my life that is to be. I always had a paradigm for how my life would be when I turned 30. Luckily the biggest part of that paradigm is true - I am married to the love of my life and my best friend. The other parts are not so clear. I always imagined myself having a nice house (not a huge mansion, but just a nice one) which was on a large lot to be secluded away from the rigors of everyday living. Of course, I don't get that living in California, and I don't know if I ever will. Even more important, I wanted my home to be a seclusion - an escape to where comfort could be attained at a quiet and reasonable environment. I'm not there yet. What is worse is that I have a bad habit of comparing. I compare myself to others my age. They are all living in big houses and some have nicer cars than I do.
It may sound materialistic (and to some extent it is) but its more a feeling of unfairness. I have sacrificed more than many in my life. While some opted to go and party, I stayed home and studied. While some decided to sleep, I pulled all-nighters to prepare for an exam. There are hundreds of things I've sacrificed that others have not to get to where I am. It may sound INCREDIBLY selfish, but for someone who constantly tries to give for a living, it'd be nice to be a little self-centered in my own ways.
Ah well.. this blog has turned into a rant session.. no more of that for now. Soon my blogs will be taken back down the road of indecency. Well at least that's something to look forward to.
posted by Richard at 1:23 PM
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