Isn't There Someone For You to Go Home To?

On a recent Friday night, I was working late. Cases were backed up, as usual, due to MAFAT. For those of you who may be unfamiliar with this term, it refers to "Mandatory Anesthesia F$%*! Around Time." Also known as "slow turnover." So, there I was, chilling in the doctor's lounge. I was working on preop for the following week's cases. Since it was late anyways, I figured, what the heck? Might as well get it done so I can have a little extra time to do other things on the weekend.

My attending walked into the lounge, grabbed his coat. He was like, "You should get out of here. I mean, there must be someone or something for you to go home to?"

Ummm...not really. Sure, I've got a few friends to hang out with. But all I have waiting at home are some really thirsty plants and a sink chock full of dirty dishes. (An aside: I refuse to get a cat. I will NEVER be a cat lady. I cannot emphasize this fact enough. I am a young, hip SFS. Manolos, not cats.) I would love to have someone waiting for me at home. Absolutely. I'd love to walk in the door and have someone fabulous (and hopefully hot) ask me how my day was, and for me to do likewise. Like my male colleagues, I'd love to have a hot meal waiting for me on the stove, dishes done, bills paid, laundry folded. Unfortunately, not for lack of trying, such a person does not yet exist in my life.

I recently read a blog post by another physician who quoted a study about how single physicians are at a higher risk of suicide--single female docs are especially high risk. We have to work harder to be valued on the job, and have to work especially hard to find someone of comparable educational and mental capacity to value us outside the job. We also have to work hard to value ourselves, our time, and the fact that we can and should have a personal life. In my residency program, no women have ever gotten pregnant or had children. In my residency, not a single woman has gotten married during residency. In my residency, the guys get a week off when their wife has a kid and I have to cover them. I have to fight to get them to cover me for one hour for my monthly hair appointment.

Interestingly, my attending also mentioned that at a recent evaluation, the other faculty felt I was doing an excellent job, but I needed to get out the hospital more because they were worried I was going to "burn out." However, if I spent more time having a life, I would have less time to do an excellent job. And there is the rub. I have to work much harder at being considered excellent at work than my male colleagues. I'm not even sure they know how many hours outside of the hospital I spend preparing for their cases, reading, writing papers, and doing personnel management.

So, what did I do that night? I cried a little in the stairwell, and I left the hospital. I watered my thirsty plants. I loaded my dishwasher. I talked to my sister and my parents. I watched some TV. Then I went to sleep. Because, as always, another day of call awaits...

Check out the link to the blog post at:
http://docwhisperer.wordpress.com/2007/01/10/suicide-and-the-single-female-doc/