LEARN FROM MY JOURNEY
Retiring From Emergency Medicine Practice
Stick a fork in me, I’m done. This story applies to you too.
A five-sentence resignation letter is what I emailed in. An 11-word response is what I received in return.
And, just like that, I was done. Done at a place I’d been for 20 years. Maybe done with a field I’ve been part of for 30 years, 33 if you count residency training.
I felt slightly deflated for several hours after the back-and-forth described above. Feeling much like an easily-replaceable tiny cog in a big machine. A machine that no longer had a need for me. Writing this now, the feeling returns in a milder form. It will fade again, quickly; I know.
The lead up to my decision to resign, June 29th, 2020, was several months in the making and not what I would have expected.
Change of plans
Since 2014 I’d been able to work part-time. I lived about two-and-a-half hours from my hospital and would commute in once a month to work a string of 5 or 6 shifts.
It was great. When I’d show up, people who I’d known for years would be happy to see me. I’d be happy to see them. I’d get my work fix and leave. Then about a month later, just as I was “jonesing” for another work fix, there it would be, ready for me.
2020 I changed it up a bit and made some other plans.
This was my plan.
January and February, work as usual, as described above. Late February, travel to Bali for a one-week vacation with my son. March, head for New Zealand for a 10-week stay, working — doing physical labor on a farm — and traveling. May, return home and work a bit in the Emergency Department. Then travel to Europe for two months. Return home at the end of July to work, again in the Emergency Department. August 1st — see what’s up, and do that, whatever “that” may be. All sort of a trial balloon for what’s next in life.
Instead, around March 20th 2020 the US State Department issued their unprecedented travel advisory; and I was faced with a dilemma. If I stayed in NZ I might be stranded there, unable to work my scheduled May Emergency Department shifts. While stranded, my visa would run out and I’d be in NZ illegally.
I made the decision to cut my long trip short and fly home.
Life in Limbo
Once home, two things happened. NZ decided that “strandees” in their country could stay as long as needed. And, about three weeks before my scheduled May shifts, my department emailed that all my shifts were canceled due to low patient volumes. Shortly after that, my European travel plans imploded.
Stranded at home and unfocused, I drifted. It felt good to drift. I thought, adventured locally (safely and alone often), visited with family, and wrote. I wrote a heck of a lot. Stuff I’d had in the hopper for years just flooded out of me. A lot of it got published, read, and, best of all, responded to.
I rarely thought about my department or Emergency Medicine except to consider whether or not to re-certify in the field. My year to do so, 2020.
Aimless drifting felt right.
As time wore on, I began to apply for other work, none of it in Emergency Medicine. I’d taught briefly at a Caribbean Medical School and loved the experience of interacting with pre-clinical students. So, I applied to some teaching posts. Ditto for the business world and for some other positions. I explored, and continue to do so, even the new one-year Peace Corps program. Returning to school is being considered as well. Who knows what I might discover in an intellectual environment.
A limbo-like state is what this feels like. I strongly suspect that many of you are in that same state. I would humbly suggest that there are benefits to be reaped by luxuriating in that for a while. Enjoy the transition. Allow yourself to see what develops. It’ll be OK. Trust in that.
I’m patiently waiting to see what’s up next for me; but I’m comfortable in limbo. With nothing pulling me or pushing me back toward Emergency Medicine, I cut off that escape route. A “burn the boats” approach (Show up on a foreign shore and destroy your escape route). People with fallback positions tend to fall back and I didn’t want that fate.
It feels solid.
Great stuff seems to be in the offing. We’ll see what develops. I’m not pushing for anything, still feeling comfortable in my present state.
The writing continues. Chapter two of this personal essay may be coming soon.
Best on your journey in this new and different world. Happy trails to you too.
