I don’t want to be a doctor anymore.

I don’t want to be a doctor anymore.

Yes, I’ve thought that. Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t. Any pre-med/medical student/resident/attending has thought this at one point, myself included. Frankly, I don’t believe those who say they haven’t thought this at least at one point during their training; to say that, they must be willfully ignorant of the path and the profession they have chosen.

How can I admit to thinking that? What about all that talk to admissions, claiming I knew for sure this is what I wanted to devote my life to? Am I a liar? No. Fundamentally, I do want to devote myself to the medical profession. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t instances when I just look around and question whether all of this is worth it. Whether sacrificing weekends for long hours of studying is worth it. Whether spending a decade or more in school after high school is worth it. Whether I truly want to be in a profession that requires me to sometimes miss holidays, anniversaries, and birthdays. Whether I want to put my fiancé through the long, lonely hours of residency. Whether I want to be taking tests for the rest of my life. Whether the debt I continue to “put on my tab” is worth it. The higher standard and scrutiny as a doctor, the day-to-day grind without feeling like you make a difference, the emotional strain of the patients you couldn’t treat or save—for each person the breaking point is different. But man, sometimes I don’t want to be a doctor anymore.

It’s time to be honest about what it’s really like to be training or working in medicine. Remove the romanticism and reveal the reality. It’s not always rainbows and unicorns. There are real struggles, real issues, and real doubt-inducing hurdles. So what do you do when the negativity overwhelms? When those questions rear their ugly head?

You go back to the beginning.

Why am I here? What brought me to this point? When I boil down my motivations, what drives me to medicine and keeps me pushing forward? That’s different for every person. Money? Job security? Respect? For me, those aren’t enough to tip the scales in medicine’s favor. There has to be something else…something more to make it worth it. That’s why the fundamental question in AMCAS and medical school interviews is the same across the board: “Why do you want to be a doctor?”

My answering that question in full is not the purpose of this post—to do so would take longer than anyone would care to read. But there is an answer for me: one of love, faith, self-sacrifice, and compassion. And that answer is one that I come back to often. It reminds me in dark times of the light that I push towards. It reminds me when I say, “I don’t want to do this anymore,” that the reward is worth the struggle to attain it. And that reward is not simply earning the title, “M.D.” It’s making an impact, enacting a difference, achieving what I’ve set out to accomplish.

To each person those statements mean something different, and the purpose of this post is not to explain what they mean for me, but rather to highlight the need to answer that question. Each and every person who wants to be in medicine should ask themselves “why.” What tips the scales for you to make the M.D. path worth traveling? If you don’t have a good answer to that, you need one, or the trials and doubts to come will go unabated.

“I don’t want to be a doctor anymore.” I know my response to this infectious thought. Will you when the time comes?

 

 


 

Jeremiah White

Jeremiah White

Formerly from the Baltimore area, I graduated from Bob Jones University with a degree in pre-med. Having interacted through MedEx with the faculty and students, I knew the doctor USCSOMG wanted to graduate was the doctor I wanted to become. If I’m not hitting the books, you can probably find me spending time with my better half or on the basketball court. It is an honor and a privilege to be a member of the class of 2018, and I’m excited to share my passion for global health, children’s health, and health education with my peers. “To whom much is given, much more shall be required.”

Kristin Lacey