Practicing Self-Compassion Makes You a Better Healthcare Provider and Prevents Burn Out
Yesterday, my son’s summer camp counselor pulled me aside. She whispered, “We found poopy underwear lying in the middle of the bathroom floor today. None of the kids will fess up to doing it.”
When I asked my son, he insisted, “That was NOT me! I’m not a baby!” But a quick pants check revealed….no undies. He immediately began to cry. “I thought you’d be mad at me,” he sobbed. “And I was really mad at myself.”
We all have those I’m really mad at myself (and the world) days. Healthcare is tough. Really tough. We went into medicine to help people-to make the world a better place. After finally completing the herculean educational steps necessary to enter the profession, we expect to feel a well-deserved, deep sense of happiness and self-fulfillment. Many days we do. But many days we don’t.
The every day, stuck in the trenches, muddy reality of American healthcare is filled with ups and downs, accomplishments and disappointments, exaltation and frustration. Some of my happiest moments come from traditional white coat doctor-patient interactions: the single mom celebrating her first 90 days of sobriety, the severely depressed teenager finally feeling better with medication, the father discharging from the hospital with a newfound sense of health, hope, and optimism.
Some of my darkest moments also come from that same physician-patient journey: the heartbroken phone call from a patient’s mother after she finds her son lying on the floor, dead, from an overdose, the longtime patient who loses his battle with depression to suicide. Despite our best efforts, we bear silent witness to untimely deaths, and life too often cut short too soon.
Sometimes our daily disappointments as healthcare providers are less potent but more constant: a slow, leaky faucet that just won’t stop dripping, no matter how hard you push down on the lever. Lost medications, early refill requests, prior authorization denials, insurance audits, credentialing delays, lowered reimbursement, pharmacy medication refusals, irate patients, charting, charting, and more charting. You could fill a lengthy novel with more examples of medicine’s slow, draining drips- those daily frustrations that create dents in our reservoir of patience and resilience.
These struggles of the modern medical world are here to stay. It’s the emotional price we pay for translating a calling into an everyday profession operating in a very flawed, imperfect world. The difficulties are inevitable. The resultant anger, frustration, and sadness doesn’t make you a bad provider. It makes you human. It doesn’t mean medicine isn’t a noble and meaningful career. It simply means you’re doing your best in less than ideal circumstances.
My advice? Accept the system’s flaws. Forgive yourself for the frustration. American healthcare is deeply fractured. Accept that many days you will experience incredible joy dampened by drips of disappointment and setbacks. These are normal, transient human responses to an imperfect but nonetheless worthy profession.
Strong positive and negative emotions in healthcare are feelable barometers reminding us that we still care deeply about our patients, even in the face of significant systemic imperfection. Give yourself permission to be frustrated, angry, and even sad at times. It’s ok. It’s expected. It’s normal. And it will pass. Give yourself permission to make mistakes-to have an occasional poop accident. And then forgive yourself.
Medicine is indeed a most challenging and most precious calling. It’s imperfect. It’s difficult. It’s messy. And yet, it’s still so worth it.
-Lauren
Thanks Lauren for a good reminder that what we do is a privilege but also hard on us. I think Covid unmasked some of the burnout and challenges that people in the medical field face.