Sharing Experiences, Lessons Learned from My Own Medical Leave

Some reflections I’ve had:

• We don’t care for ourselves. As my therapist states, “The thermostat was broken a long time ago.” Our threshold as surgeons is not normal, not healthy, and we aren’t good models despite believing we’re taking care of ourselves. For me, this means I’m no longer cold all the time from years of not eating and being dehydrated. No more middle of the night calf cramps and screaming in pain, no intense headaches, and most of all, my neck actually moves again—I can now change lanes without fear and pain.
• The mind and body have memory. Even when I’m not working, I still think and behave like a surgeon. For example, Tuesday mornings I usually leave the house at 6:30 a.m. to drive 1 hour to the satellite clinic. My first Tuesday on leave, I looked up to see it was 6:24 a.m., and my heart started racing. I also scheduled my PT, chiropractor, and massage appointments back to back, as if I were still in clinic.
• Don’t overdo the cure. I went to the gym daily the first week to walk on the treadmill (on incline) and pushed until my heart rate reached 170. I hadn’t worked out for about two years, so I felt I mustn’t waste time. I lost 3 pounds in five days and felt great about myself. By day six, though, after using the elliptical, I felt sick and then my right hand turned blue again.
• Stay off of work email (mostly). I made a big promise to myself not to log in and check work emails—a promise that lasted only one week. (Although it was kind of a good thing I did check my work emails; I would have missed completing forms necessary to qualify for my bonus.)
• Listen to your body. Over the past two years, my body decided that talking to me was useless; now it screams at me, and I’m still a horrible listener. In 2019, I had two weeks of unexplained hives, intense pruritis, and facial/ lip angioedema. All the bloodletting from lab work was normal; my allergist concluded that stress was the cause. I developed a hypertensive crisis during the pandemic, always with severe headaches. And how quickly I forgot my increased frequency of emergency visits for chest pain.
• Taking time off is vital. Time off has allowed my body and mind to slow down, and I can observe my sensations, anxiety, and restlessness. I do feel shame and guilt as though I’ve “abandoned” everyone: patients, colleagues, and med students. But what’s really sad is realizing that rushing around for 19 years, speaking on burnout and well-being, hadn’t made me protect myself better.
• We can’t do everything. I’ve squeezed all my responsibilities as a mother, wife, friend, mentor, and division chief into every second, including nights and weekends, when I’m not in my 10 to 11 hours of daily clinical work. So have you. It comes at a physical, emotional, and mental cost, though. I’ve mastered squeezing life into my career by doing everything possible to prove I’m worthy of being loved, and no less competent than my male colleagues. The system push for ever-increasing productivity made it worse.
• Less stress = greater connections. During the weeks away from work, my husband and I have developed a far deeper connection than we have ever had in our 18 years of marriage. He sees my vulnerability and has reassured me. He sees me smile, and I notice we are laughing again—often. We have more authentic conversations. I now have a sense of hope and empowerment, and I truly believe that whatever happens, we’re committed to my health above all else.

I didn’t write this article to be a victim or martyr. Those who know me can say I did too much and could have avoided this. I couldn’t.