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I’m sitting on the porch looking out at our little harbor, listening to the murmurings of the family of renters who have just moved into the cottage next door. We are on the cusp of the tourist season that draws millions of visitors – more than 36 million in 2017 – to a state that has less than a million and a half year-round residents during the other 9 months. Why do the “people from away” come?
The water is too cold for swimming most of the summer in Maine. But we have forested mountains, rocky shores, and we’re small. When I chat with the visitors sharing our stony little beach, they often ask if I live here and tell me how lucky I am because they envy the quiet, the friendly people, the lack of traffic, and the sense of community that they feel here in Vacationland.
My being here in Maine wasn’t a stroke of luck. It was a conscious decision that my wife and I made when I finished my training. The lucky part was meeting my wife who was born here. Through her I learned what Maine was about. I had grown up in a small town of 5,000 (although it was the suburb of a city of millions) and went to a small college in rural New Hampshire with an enrollment of a little more than 3,000. I turned down residencies in pediatric radiology and dermatology because I knew that to have a sustainable patient base we would have needed to live in a major metropolitan center.
I was accustomed to the benefits of living small. In the 1970s, the local economy in mid-coast Maine was shaky, the biggest employer had not yet secured the large military contracts it needed to thrive. But we decided it was a risk worth taking, and we have never regretted for a second living and practicing in a town of less than 20,000.
With this history as a backdrop, you can understand why I am a bit puzzled and disappointed by the results of a 2019 survey final-year medical residents recently published by the medical search and consulting firm Merritt Hawkins. Although the sample size is small (391 respondents out of 20,000 email surveys), the responses probably are a reasonable reflection of the opinions of the entire population of final-year residents. More than 80% of the respondents said that they would most like to practice in a community with a population of more than 100,000, and 65% would prefer a population base of more than 250,000. This would automatically rule out Maine, where our largest city has less than 80,000 people.
I can easily understand why physicians finishing their residency would avoid practice opportunities in remote, thinly populated regions in which they might find themselves as the only, or one of only two physicians serving a medically needy, economically depressed population spread out over a wide geographic area. That kind of challenge has some appeal for the saintly few, or the dreamy-eyed idealists. But in my experience, those work environments require so much energy that most physicians last only a few years because being on call is so taxing.
However, I know of several right here in Maine. What is driving young physicians to seek larger communities? It may be that because teaching hospitals are usually in more densely populated communities, many residents lack sufficient exposure to role models who are practicing in smaller settings. Compounding this dearth of role models is the unfortunate and often inaccurate image in which local doctors are cast as bumbling and clueless. I was fortunate because where I did my first 2 years of training, the local pediatricians played an active role and were very visible role models of how one can enjoy practice in a smaller community.
I guess I can’t ignore the obvious that a larger population base may be able guarantee an income that could sound appealing to the more than 50% of residents who will complete their training with a sizable debt.
However, I fear that too many residents nearing the end of their training believe that the “quality of life” that they claim to be seeking can’t be found in a small community practice. They would do well to speak to a few of us who have enjoyed and prospered by living small.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
I’m sitting on the porch looking out at our little harbor, listening to the murmurings of the family of renters who have just moved into the cottage next door. We are on the cusp of the tourist season that draws millions of visitors – more than 36 million in 2017 – to a state that has less than a million and a half year-round residents during the other 9 months. Why do the “people from away” come?
The water is too cold for swimming most of the summer in Maine. But we have forested mountains, rocky shores, and we’re small. When I chat with the visitors sharing our stony little beach, they often ask if I live here and tell me how lucky I am because they envy the quiet, the friendly people, the lack of traffic, and the sense of community that they feel here in Vacationland.
My being here in Maine wasn’t a stroke of luck. It was a conscious decision that my wife and I made when I finished my training. The lucky part was meeting my wife who was born here. Through her I learned what Maine was about. I had grown up in a small town of 5,000 (although it was the suburb of a city of millions) and went to a small college in rural New Hampshire with an enrollment of a little more than 3,000. I turned down residencies in pediatric radiology and dermatology because I knew that to have a sustainable patient base we would have needed to live in a major metropolitan center.
I was accustomed to the benefits of living small. In the 1970s, the local economy in mid-coast Maine was shaky, the biggest employer had not yet secured the large military contracts it needed to thrive. But we decided it was a risk worth taking, and we have never regretted for a second living and practicing in a town of less than 20,000.
With this history as a backdrop, you can understand why I am a bit puzzled and disappointed by the results of a 2019 survey final-year medical residents recently published by the medical search and consulting firm Merritt Hawkins. Although the sample size is small (391 respondents out of 20,000 email surveys), the responses probably are a reasonable reflection of the opinions of the entire population of final-year residents. More than 80% of the respondents said that they would most like to practice in a community with a population of more than 100,000, and 65% would prefer a population base of more than 250,000. This would automatically rule out Maine, where our largest city has less than 80,000 people.
I can easily understand why physicians finishing their residency would avoid practice opportunities in remote, thinly populated regions in which they might find themselves as the only, or one of only two physicians serving a medically needy, economically depressed population spread out over a wide geographic area. That kind of challenge has some appeal for the saintly few, or the dreamy-eyed idealists. But in my experience, those work environments require so much energy that most physicians last only a few years because being on call is so taxing.
However, I know of several right here in Maine. What is driving young physicians to seek larger communities? It may be that because teaching hospitals are usually in more densely populated communities, many residents lack sufficient exposure to role models who are practicing in smaller settings. Compounding this dearth of role models is the unfortunate and often inaccurate image in which local doctors are cast as bumbling and clueless. I was fortunate because where I did my first 2 years of training, the local pediatricians played an active role and were very visible role models of how one can enjoy practice in a smaller community.
I guess I can’t ignore the obvious that a larger population base may be able guarantee an income that could sound appealing to the more than 50% of residents who will complete their training with a sizable debt.
However, I fear that too many residents nearing the end of their training believe that the “quality of life” that they claim to be seeking can’t be found in a small community practice. They would do well to speak to a few of us who have enjoyed and prospered by living small.
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.” Email him at [email protected].
I’m sitting on the porch looking out at our little harbor, listening to the murmurings of the family of renters who have just moved into the cottage next door. We are on the cusp of the tourist season that draws millions of visitors – more than 36 million in 2017 – to a state that has less than a million and a half year-round residents during the other 9 months. Why do the “people from away” come?
The water is too cold for swimming most of the summer in Maine. But we have forested mountains, rocky shores, and we’re small. When I chat with the visitors sharing our stony little beach, they often ask if I live here and tell me how lucky I am because they envy the quiet, the friendly people, the lack of traffic, and the sense of community that they feel here in Vacationland.
My being here in Maine wasn’t a stroke of luck. It was a conscious decision that my wife and I made when I finished my training. The lucky part was meeting my wife who was born here. Through her I learned what Maine was about. I had grown up in a small town of 5,000 (although it was the suburb of a city of millions) and went to a small college in rural New Hampshire with an enrollment of a little more than 3,000. I turned down residencies in pediatric radiology and dermatology because I knew that to have a sustainable patient base we would have needed to live in a major metropolitan center.
I was accustomed to the benefits of living small. In the 1970s, the local economy in mid-coast Maine was shaky, the biggest employer had not yet secured the large military contracts it needed to thrive. But we decided it was a risk worth taking, and we have never regretted for a second living and practicing in a town of less than 20,000.
With this history as a backdrop, you can understand why I am a bit puzzled and disappointed by the results of a 2019 survey final-year medical residents recently published by the medical search and consulting firm Merritt Hawkins. Although the sample size is small (391 respondents out of 20,000 email surveys), the responses probably are a reasonable reflection of the opinions of the entire population of final-year residents. More than 80% of the respondents said that they would most like to practice in a community with a population of more than 100,000, and 65% would prefer a population base of more than 250,000. This would automatically rule out Maine, where our largest city has less than 80,000 people.
I can easily understand why physicians finishing their residency would avoid practice opportunities in remote, thinly populated regions in which they might find themselves as the only, or one of only two physicians serving a medically needy, economically depressed population spread out over a wide geographic area. That kind of challenge has some appeal for the saintly few, or the dreamy-eyed idealists. But in my experience, those work environments require so much energy that most physicians last only a few years because being on call is so taxing.
However, I know of several right here in Maine. What is driving young physicians to seek larger communities? It may be that because teaching hospitals are usually in more densely populated communities, many residents lack sufficient exposure to role models who are practicing in smaller settings. Compounding this dearth of role models is the unfortunate and often inaccurate image in which local doctors are cast as bumbling and clueless. I was fortunate because where I did my first 2 years of training, the local pediatricians played an active role and were very visible role models of how one can enjoy practice in a smaller community.
I guess I can’t ignore the obvious that a larger population base may be able guarantee an income that could sound appealing to the more than 50% of residents who will complete their training with a sizable debt.
However, I fear that too many residents nearing the end of their training believe that the “quality of life” that they claim to be seeking can’t be found in a small community practice. They would do well to speak to a few of us who have enjoyed and prospered by living small.
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.” Email him at [email protected].