Editor’s Note: This is an uplifting account about an orthopaedic surgeon who found her passion and experiences joy through her work.
“When I was young and my parents went to the doctor, I would ask them what the doctor said to them. They often replied, ‘I don’t know.’ This is, in part, what motivated me to become a physician. I knew I could do better than that.”
Today in my government-sponsored work setting, patients often say to me, “I’ve never had anyone explain things to me like you have.” It’s incredibly gratifying since that is precisely my intention. Having patients who are grateful for the care I give them touches me deeply. These men and women served their country in the military. I am giving them what they deserve after their sacrifice. It is an honor to care for them.
Many times, in the office, I run over the allotted appointment time with these patients. Despite the next person’s appointment beginning late, once I explain that the patient before them needed something extra, they almost universally forgive me and enter our conversation in a positive manner.
Some of my patients have post-traumatic stress disorder following their military service and lead complicated lives. I try to approach them with the same empathy and love I give to the others and strive to provide excellent care. When they begin to understand that I genuinely care about them, many say they want to stay my patient forever. This brings me joy. Clearly, I am not doing this work for the money as providers in my setting are notoriously undercompensated. But the joy in positively impacting the life of another human being keeps me going. I honestly feel that this work is what I was always intended to do.
The system of providing care to veterans moves very slowly. By the time one of them reaches me, a specialist, they often have an advanced disorder causing considerable pain and disability. I do my best to get them through the system expeditiously so they can have their surgery or procedure as soon as possible. This, of course, can be challenging and involves mountains of paperwork.
I vividly remember one elderly patient who didn’t look like me and said, “I know you are going to hurt me because I am white, right?” I was shocked but calmly explained that I was trying to help him with his pain. I described his non-surgical problem and offered an injection. I gave him the choice to accept the care I was offering or not. He agreed to the procedure, and I assume he did well as he did not return.
It is not uncommon to be viewed skeptically by a patient once they see I am a female. In general, once I demonstrate that I am knowledgeable and caring, they change their tune. These are the small victories that keep me going after over two decades of doing this work.
97% of my patient population is well behaved in the examination room. The other three percent may “act up.” By this I mean they may become enraged, paranoid or potentially threatening. Under those circumstances, I must think of what to say to deescalate the situation and try to stay safe. For this reason, I have various objects around the exam room that can be used in self-defense if it becomes necessary. Help can be slow in coming so being proactive and intentional is essential. This approach has been discussed in one of the women’s orthopaedic groups I belong to and should be considered by all providers.
A well-respected mentor of mine espoused “equanimity under duress.” This phrase refers to remaining calm and composed in the face of adversity and challenging situations. It can be applied to a problem encountered during surgery or in a challenging professional or business situation. During these “storms”, I try to remember that I am well-trained, board certified and know what I am doing. I also draw on my strong faith to rise above the challenges I encounter.
During my competitive athletic life, my team’s motto was “Ad astra per aspera,” through hardships to the stars. In other words, through difficulty to excellence. This and the saying above continue to inspire me.
What have my professional experiences taught me? To be resilient, brave, bold, not fearful, to let my light shine, to stand up for myself, to fight if necessary and to trust in God to raise me to greater heights.
One other point that should be made. My husband and I waited ten years to have children due to the demands of my professional life. By then it was not easy to conceive. Thankfully, we now have two healthy girls. The older one is considering becoming an orthopaedic surgeon so she “can be like mommy.” The other is thinking about becoming a veterinarian. I hope they will find the joy I have in their future professions.
My advice to those who follow me:
- Try not to be afraid
- Speak up for yourself
- Be bold
- Stay safe
- Find your professional passion
- Don’t be afraid to give or receive a hug when it is appropriate.
- Have an outlet beyond orthopaedic surgery so you don’t go crazy.
