I love being an emergency doctor. I loved my residency, my co-residents, and my attendings. I love my training: watching, learning, treating. I love the emergency department, the vastness, and the variability of emergency medicine. But I am tired. I am tired of feeling like a workhorse, a production line made to just churn patients in and out. I am tired of being told that my worth as a doctor is based on my time to doc, time to discharge, time to needle, time to antibiotics. I am tired of being told I am not fast enough, not efficient enough. I am tired of the metrics. I am tired of being told I don’t listen enough; I don’t sit long enough; I am not compassionate enough; I don’t smile or accommodate enough; my patients are not satisfied enough. I am tired of my popularity rating. I am tired of being told I don’t see enough patients; I don’t supervise enough mid-levels. I am tired of being told that I admit too many patients and that I consult too many services. I am tired of being asked why I have so many bounce backs and why I didn’t admit in the first place. I am tired of receiving emails that my charts are overdue, that my charts are insufficient and underbilled, yet scribes are a wasted resource. I am tired of worrying I did too much. I am tired of worrying I did too little. I am tired of worrying I missed the diagnosis. I am tired of worrying I was too late. I am tired of being yelled at and abused by patients that I try to keep safe by not overprescribing opiates, by patients and families that don’t understand why I don’t have a clear diagnosis for their chronic symptoms despite multiple ED visits and countless specialists. I am tired of being told that science is not real and that my protection makes me a mindless pawn in a worldwide conspiracy. I am tired of watching my college friends buy fancy cars and multimillion-dollar vacation homes while I pick up extra shifts to pay off my student loans. I am tired of the days. I am tired of the nights. I am tired of the flips. I am tired of not knowing what day it is, let alone what time of day it is. I am tired of missing fun weekend getaways. I am tired of the missed holidays. I am tired of missing my babies, my husband, my family, and friends. I am tired of being told to be happier, to exercise more, to meditate more, that my burnout can be better if I tried harder. I am tired and exhausted by the thoughts of not being enough. I am just plain old tired. Yet, I continue to love the department, my colleagues, the medicine, this path, this specialty and this life I chose. I continue to love it despite being tired. I’m starting to think that I’m a masochist. Catherine Agustiady-Becker is an emergency physician. Source
