“I could finally lay down my own burden…”

“Perfect children become doctors”. This is clinical pearl I brought home from an amazing day I spent at “Healing the Healer”. And what is the price of that striving for perfection? I learned that plenty of us are also plagued by self-doubt, neglectful of self-care, have poor delegation skills, can be determined and rigid, and often carry an exaggerated sense of responsibility. We are consequently unable to reconcile critical events such as bad outcomes, and are vulnerable to burnout, depression and a lot of stress and sadness.
I found out that a disturbing number of doctors commit suicide, and struggle with bad coping strategies like drinking too much, and using prescription drugs. But doctors generally can’t admit they are depressed, and they won’t miss work. Almost all of the suicides had done shifts within the prior 24 hours. What they will say is “I can’t stop the pain. I can’t see myself as worthwhile.”
It was also transformative to learn more about addiction. Deeply rooted in my own stepfather’s alcoholism (I would guess) has been a longstanding impatience with people who have addictions. I have never had much empathy for people like this. But when one of the audience members, from the Washington Physician’s Health Program (WPHP), told his story, it opened my heart. He described driving past Lake Washington, seeing people in boats and on the beaches. Imprisoned by his addiction, he would look at those people and think “That will never be me. I will never have friends again, or laugh, or be happy. There is no way out.”
The most beautiful thing in the world, they say, is an intervention. Fortunately, this doctor’s staff amd colleagues did just this. They told him they suspected he was impaired and forced him to go and meet with WPHP. He had to drive to Olive Street, and find parking. And here is what WPHP did: They sat him down in one chair, but they also put an empty one beside him. In that chair was his disease. They told him that they loved him, but that his disease was telling him lies, and making him do terrible things. And he got into treatment.
And now? “Every part of my life is OK now. I have friends, I have happiness. My oldest daughter is getting married. I love being a doctor now more than any other point in my life.”
I got a little emotional on my drive home, feeling like I could finally lay down my own burden of trying to be perfect. It also felt good to find a source of compassion I didn’t know I had. It felt so good, I shared my story with my teenage daughter, and talked to her about the importance of not trying to be perfect. It must have worked, because she listened carefully and then had a question. “So, does that mean I can have cereal for dinner and watch CSI at the same time?”
What would be your answer?
Sue Taylor, MD
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