I remember my first few months of life after residency — when, after years of constantly shifting schedules and 28-plus-hour calls I finally had what felt like an “easy” schedule. I started at 8am and was headed home a little after 5pm. I had almost every weekend gloriously free (minus a few for nursery rounds).
I remember turning to my husband one day and saying: “I feel like I’m dreaming, and any minute now the delivery room pager is going to go off and wake me out of my call-room slumber.”
Well, thankfully the DR pager never went off, but my job didn’t feel like a dream job forever.
After just a few months of working in a busy pediatric clinic, I started to see the problems. I began to see more complex patients for whom a 10-15 minute visit wasn’t nearly enough time to even assess the problem, let alone offer any help. I noticed how all of the physicians, including myself, spent our lunch hour and an hour after work catching up on tasks, forms, and notes. I realized how, despite over a decade of education and training, I had little true autonomy or decision-making power within my organization. And, I faced the sad reality of how far (or not) a pediatrician’s salary could go toward life expenses and repaying a mountain of student debt.
After a few years at that job, I was miserable but afraid to admit it. While I loved my colleagues and coworkers and felt the sincere appreciation of my patients, I dreaded driving to work each day and counted down each hour until the end of the day. I sometimes cried on my way home, releasing the pent-up frustration of the day. Weekends and short vacations were never long enough to truly recharge.
I wondered to myself: had I wasted over a decade of my life pursuing the wrong career? Had I made a terrible mistake in choosing to be a physician?
It took hiring a burnout coach and some soul searching to recognize that I had more choices than I realized. I eventually left my first job, moved states, and started fresh in a new part-time position.
My next job working a few evenings and weekends per week in pediatric urgent care was a breath of fresh air at first. My part-time schedule allowed me to join a running group and try my hand at gardening. I felt more balanced in life, but some of the same problems surfaced again: the rushed visits, the bureaucratic red tape, and my relative powerlessness within a large organization.
Once again, I wondered: Is medicine really for me? Do greener pastures even exist?
I decided to search again for something better and applied for two jobs at my local children’s hospital. I figured perhaps academia, with it’s combination of patient care, teaching, and research would bring more fulfillment. I was excited to make it through a first round of interviews, then a second. I was almost certain I’d get the job … and then I didn’t.
I was devastated. Rejection hurts. If academic medicine wasn’t for me, then what was next?
That’s when I stumbled upon direct primary care in a physician Facebook group. I’d never heard of it before, but my curiosity was piqued. I scoured the group for more posts. I joined other groups and asked questions. I bought books and learned more.
My intuition told me that I had finally found what my soul had been longing for. My past work experiences, the fatigue, the tears, the doubt, and the rejection had all been guiding me slowly down this path. They had all shown me what kind of work life I didn’t want so that I could recognize more fully what I did want — and DPC fit that bill beautifully.
Three years and a thriving DPC practice later, I’m grateful for those past experiences that led me to exactly where I am today. If I’d never experienced the pain, frustration, and devastation, I may never have mustered the courage and motivation to create my dream DPC.
If, like me, you’ve had painful experiences that led you to explore DPC, consider how they’ve shaped you into the person you are today. Rather than mourning or regretting the past, use it as a launching pad to set you on the path toward a better, brighter future.
If you need help figuring it all out, we’re here to help!
If you’re a newbie, check out the free DPC Pediatrician Startup Guide and learn about our soon-to-launch Startup Foundations group coaching program.
If you’re working on marketing, expanding your practice, or hiring employees, the DPC Pediatrician Academy has a wealth of resources for you.
If you want more personalized guidance, Dr. Phil Boucher and I are available for one-on-one consultations.
Wherever you are, know that you’re not alone and that you CAN create your dream DPC practice, one step at a time.