Feelings of Doubt, Is Medicine Truly for Me?

I would be lying if I said that I didn’t ever feel self-doubt about choosing medicine as my career path. Sometimes it feels like an all too regular visitor. I suppose that’s par for the course when you’re dedicating over a decade of your life to mostly work and little play. You have to sometimes wonder: “am I doing the right thing?”  

Let’s talk numbers: four years of undergrad, a year and a half Masters, four years of medical school, anywhere from 2-5 years of residency depending on the specialty and possibly a fellowship after this. The grand total? A minimum of eleven and a half years to pursue my  dream, but possibly longer. Astounding, right? 

Making sacrifices is an accepted part of the journey to medicine. The countless hours of studying and the near constant examinations don’t exactly afford you flexibility. I’ve seen sacrifice at every step of the road. Managing a long distance relationship (for the last four years) has been challenging to say the least. I’m seeing friends purchase houses and post pictures of shiny engagement rings and smiling babies. I’m watching my own personal calendar get pushed further behind. Add this to the many life events that I have missed out on: the birth of my niece, her first birthday, my eldest sister’s baby shower, my cousin’s wedding, and the list goes on. As much as I am undoubtedly passionate about everything I am studying, I can’t help but feel the all too relatable fear of missing out that everyone seems to feel at some point. And in these moments, I can’t help but wonder… is life passing me by?

That pesky feeling of doubt reared its ugly head again during my first immersive experience in hospital as a medical student. At the end of our first year, we completed a one month observership: two weeks in medicine and two weeks in surgery. I started in Internal Medicine and was so overwhelmed my first week in. I craved the comforts of home. This is not what I was expecting at all. Did I have this romanticized picture of what my first ‘rotation’ would look like? Maybe. Was this quickly squashed? Definitely. Many of the patients I saw had a multitude of conditions and very poor prognoses. I felt helpless and useless to them. The docs were visibly overworked. The hospital itself felt dim and soul sucking. This feeling felt familiar. I felt these same emotions as a patient. To add to all of this, I experienced a few moments of unexpected sexism from the lead attending on my team (more to come in a future post). I couldn’t help but let all of this colour the lens through which I experienced this first week. I hate this. I don’t think I can do this. How can I be pursuing medicine but hate hospital care? Will I have to fight twice as hard for the same opportunities as my male colleagues? My seemingly endless internal dialogue threatened to derail everything that I thought I was working towards. It launched me into a dangerous frenzy of whys and what ifs. 

Not knowing how to handle this, I called the person who knows me best, my mum. I attempted to convey my concerns and doubt in between high-pitched, soap-opera style sobs and sniffles. In true mum fashion, she knew exactly what to say to soothe my meltdown. She reminded me of how much she gave up for her kids to follow their passion. How much she would have loved the opportunity to pursue medicine. You see, between being the primary caretaker of us four girls and having a husband that routinely works 12-14 hour days, my mum took one for the team and stayed home to raise her kids. The take home message of our conversation? Nobody’s life is full of roses. There are moments of darkness and disappointment. But there are also moments that are so fulfilling and beautiful. Hold on to those. What separates the strong and resilient from those who run away at the mere sight of a challenge is perspective and gratitude. Show up, work hard, be humble, shine and continue to break through those glass ceilings. Change of perspective achieved. Meltdown complete. 

Mum also reminded me that I too have been a patient. “Use that experience to connect with your patients now.” And so I did. I stopped looking at my patients with fear and instead saw them as colleagues. I have a lot to learn from them. At the end of the day, our knowledge is useless without the patients who allow us to bring our training to life. From this point on, I made a concerted effort to introduce myself to everyone. I asked them about their day, spent time chatting and getting to know them. I took histories, I listened to their stories. I spoke to them as I wish people had spoke to me during my time as a patient. Needless to say, my second week was much better. The patients we rounded on gave me a knowing smile, a “lovely to see you again, thanks for checking in”. 

I draw a lot of inspiration from my own family and friends in medicine. To say that the bar has been set high is an understatement. I have always felt impressed by the lives they have built for themselves. But perhaps nothing impresses me more than seeing them rally together when someone’s health is in question or at stake. I have witnessed their ability to melt the worry of loved ones by communicating in and translating the jargon-filled language of medicine. Every time I have been in hospital in the last year, I have felt numb. Every interaction went over my head, despite being a medical student and fully understanding all of the jargon. I relied heavily on my family to communicate with the doctors, because for some reason, I could not shake the numbness I was experiencing. My own experience has proven to me that patients often rely and trust physicians whole-heartedly. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is such a privilege and immense responsibility. Something that is not to be taken lightly. And it is for that reason that everyone continues to tell me, “there is nothing else like medicine. It’s tough but so very worth it”. And after just a year and a half of medical school, I know this sentiment is true.      

As I sit here reflecting, I have to wonder whether my doubt about this career path makes me any less committed? I would like to think not. I think this is reality. Nothing pans out exactly as you planned, right? It’s not all roses, rainbows and it’s definitely not like Grey’s Anatomy. There are always going to be ups and downs, it’s what keeps the journey interesting. And honestly, to hell with having it all figured out. It’s okay to struggle, to be vulnerable and honest. Because when you really look at it, there is no success without a bit of struggle. And if you can push through those difficult moments and learn from them, well, that screams success in my mind. So yes, I do feel doubt every now and then. But I also can’t imagine myself doing anything else. I have never experienced the kind of heart break but also fulfilment and beauty that medicine can provide. 

Doubt has this unique ability to make you think that you’re the only person who’s feeling it. And if there’s one thing this post can tell you, it’s that doubt has visited almost every person I know. It’s as common as catching the cold. The first step is to know that we all sometimes look at our choices and wonder if it’s truly right for us. But the true antidote to doubt is self-confidence. And if that means that you need to scream self-affirmations (“I AM THE CAPTAIN OF MY OWN SHIP”)or make a pros and cons list, go ahead.

The road ahead to any kind of graduate school is tough and the last thing you need is to not be on your own team. Trust yourself. You got this.