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I would like to think it was the culmination of a series of clever decisions, but finding myself in a job that I enjoyed was more than likely the result of blind luck. Even as I filled out medical school applications during my senior year in college, I had no intention of actually becoming a physician. I was more focused on not becoming cannon fodder in Vietnam. I am hesitant to use the word love to describe my affection for a job I did for 40 years. But I can’t imagine any work I could have enjoyed more than being a general pediatrician in a small town.
Were there moments when I would have rather been watching one of my children play in a postseason soccer game than see a patient in the office? Sure, but I can’t recall a morning when I dreaded going to work. Having listened to many other people, including my father, complain about their work, I consider myself fortunate to have discovered a job that wasn’t just tolerable and a way to support my family, but one that I actually enjoyed enough to not mind working nights and weekends.
What was it about being a pediatrician that fueled my affection for it? Social scientists have asked the same question, and one of the answers they discovered is that jobs that offer a degree of autonomy and contribute positively to society are more likely to have satisfied workers (“The Incalculable Value of Finding a Job You Love,” by Robert Frank, the New York Times, July 22, 2016). If one assumes that the mission of pediatrics is to help children become and stay healthy, then when I was practicing solo or in a small physician-owned practice, my job easily met these two criteria. But autonomy and a good cause don’t necessarily pay the rent. However, unless I had foolishly chosen to open a practice in an area already saturated with physicians, doing pediatrics meant I would have an adequate income.
Like any craft, practicing pediatrics became easier and more enjoyable as I gained experience. I made fewer time-gobbling errors and had more therapeutic successes. It’s not that more children got better or better quicker under my care. They were going to get better, regardless of what I did. But over time, an increasing number of parents and patients seemed to be appreciative of my role in educating and reassuring them.
So what happened? I retired from office practice 3 years ago. Had I fallen out of love with pediatrics? My physical stamina was and still is good. I just go to bed earlier. But as my practice was swallowed by larger and larger entities, I lost most of the autonomy that had been so appealing. Practicing medicine has always been a business. It has to be unless you are living off an inherited trust fund. But despite praiseworthy mission statements, corporate decisions were being made that were no longer consistent with the kind of individualized care I thought the patients deserved. It was frustrating to hear families who I had been seeing for decades complain that the care delivery system in our office had taken several steps back.
At the risk of whipping the same old tired horse, I must say that it was the impending introduction of a third new and increasingly less-patient and physician-friendly EHR that made it too difficult to accept the accumulation of negatives in exchange for the wonderful feeling at the end of the workday during which at least one person had thanked me or told me I had done a good job.
For those of you that remain on the job, I urge you to fight the good fight to preserve what it is about practicing pediatrics that allows you to get up in the morning and head off to work without grumbling. It won’t be easy, but if you can make it into a job you love, the patients are going to benefit along with you.
Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.”
I would like to think it was the culmination of a series of clever decisions, but finding myself in a job that I enjoyed was more than likely the result of blind luck. Even as I filled out medical school applications during my senior year in college, I had no intention of actually becoming a physician. I was more focused on not becoming cannon fodder in Vietnam. I am hesitant to use the word love to describe my affection for a job I did for 40 years. But I can’t imagine any work I could have enjoyed more than being a general pediatrician in a small town.
Were there moments when I would have rather been watching one of my children play in a postseason soccer game than see a patient in the office? Sure, but I can’t recall a morning when I dreaded going to work. Having listened to many other people, including my father, complain about their work, I consider myself fortunate to have discovered a job that wasn’t just tolerable and a way to support my family, but one that I actually enjoyed enough to not mind working nights and weekends.
What was it about being a pediatrician that fueled my affection for it? Social scientists have asked the same question, and one of the answers they discovered is that jobs that offer a degree of autonomy and contribute positively to society are more likely to have satisfied workers (“The Incalculable Value of Finding a Job You Love,” by Robert Frank, the New York Times, July 22, 2016). If one assumes that the mission of pediatrics is to help children become and stay healthy, then when I was practicing solo or in a small physician-owned practice, my job easily met these two criteria. But autonomy and a good cause don’t necessarily pay the rent. However, unless I had foolishly chosen to open a practice in an area already saturated with physicians, doing pediatrics meant I would have an adequate income.
Like any craft, practicing pediatrics became easier and more enjoyable as I gained experience. I made fewer time-gobbling errors and had more therapeutic successes. It’s not that more children got better or better quicker under my care. They were going to get better, regardless of what I did. But over time, an increasing number of parents and patients seemed to be appreciative of my role in educating and reassuring them.
So what happened? I retired from office practice 3 years ago. Had I fallen out of love with pediatrics? My physical stamina was and still is good. I just go to bed earlier. But as my practice was swallowed by larger and larger entities, I lost most of the autonomy that had been so appealing. Practicing medicine has always been a business. It has to be unless you are living off an inherited trust fund. But despite praiseworthy mission statements, corporate decisions were being made that were no longer consistent with the kind of individualized care I thought the patients deserved. It was frustrating to hear families who I had been seeing for decades complain that the care delivery system in our office had taken several steps back.
At the risk of whipping the same old tired horse, I must say that it was the impending introduction of a third new and increasingly less-patient and physician-friendly EHR that made it too difficult to accept the accumulation of negatives in exchange for the wonderful feeling at the end of the workday during which at least one person had thanked me or told me I had done a good job.
For those of you that remain on the job, I urge you to fight the good fight to preserve what it is about practicing pediatrics that allows you to get up in the morning and head off to work without grumbling. It won’t be easy, but if you can make it into a job you love, the patients are going to benefit along with you.
Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.”
I would like to think it was the culmination of a series of clever decisions, but finding myself in a job that I enjoyed was more than likely the result of blind luck. Even as I filled out medical school applications during my senior year in college, I had no intention of actually becoming a physician. I was more focused on not becoming cannon fodder in Vietnam. I am hesitant to use the word love to describe my affection for a job I did for 40 years. But I can’t imagine any work I could have enjoyed more than being a general pediatrician in a small town.
Were there moments when I would have rather been watching one of my children play in a postseason soccer game than see a patient in the office? Sure, but I can’t recall a morning when I dreaded going to work. Having listened to many other people, including my father, complain about their work, I consider myself fortunate to have discovered a job that wasn’t just tolerable and a way to support my family, but one that I actually enjoyed enough to not mind working nights and weekends.
What was it about being a pediatrician that fueled my affection for it? Social scientists have asked the same question, and one of the answers they discovered is that jobs that offer a degree of autonomy and contribute positively to society are more likely to have satisfied workers (“The Incalculable Value of Finding a Job You Love,” by Robert Frank, the New York Times, July 22, 2016). If one assumes that the mission of pediatrics is to help children become and stay healthy, then when I was practicing solo or in a small physician-owned practice, my job easily met these two criteria. But autonomy and a good cause don’t necessarily pay the rent. However, unless I had foolishly chosen to open a practice in an area already saturated with physicians, doing pediatrics meant I would have an adequate income.
Like any craft, practicing pediatrics became easier and more enjoyable as I gained experience. I made fewer time-gobbling errors and had more therapeutic successes. It’s not that more children got better or better quicker under my care. They were going to get better, regardless of what I did. But over time, an increasing number of parents and patients seemed to be appreciative of my role in educating and reassuring them.
So what happened? I retired from office practice 3 years ago. Had I fallen out of love with pediatrics? My physical stamina was and still is good. I just go to bed earlier. But as my practice was swallowed by larger and larger entities, I lost most of the autonomy that had been so appealing. Practicing medicine has always been a business. It has to be unless you are living off an inherited trust fund. But despite praiseworthy mission statements, corporate decisions were being made that were no longer consistent with the kind of individualized care I thought the patients deserved. It was frustrating to hear families who I had been seeing for decades complain that the care delivery system in our office had taken several steps back.
At the risk of whipping the same old tired horse, I must say that it was the impending introduction of a third new and increasingly less-patient and physician-friendly EHR that made it too difficult to accept the accumulation of negatives in exchange for the wonderful feeling at the end of the workday during which at least one person had thanked me or told me I had done a good job.
For those of you that remain on the job, I urge you to fight the good fight to preserve what it is about practicing pediatrics that allows you to get up in the morning and head off to work without grumbling. It won’t be easy, but if you can make it into a job you love, the patients are going to benefit along with you.
Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.”