Physicians have one of the highest rates of suicide
of any profession; nearly twice the rate of the general population. 400 physicians commit suicide each year in
the United States. The stress of being a
doctor is constant and unrelenting. The
majority of us are perfectionists with a strong work ethic – your classic Type
A personality. Maybe we set ourselves up
for failure and then cannot accept when it inevitably occurs. Failure is a part of medicine because it is a
part of life.
I was 12 years old in 1987 when the first physician
I knew committed suicide. My father was
the seventh physician to join The Doctors Clinic in 1971. I was raised attending summertime backyard
picnics at other physicians’ homes and remember most of their families and children. It was a close-knit community of medical providers
back then; something that may have prevented more tragic events like this from
occurring.
He was an excellent internal medicine physician,
revered by many in Kitsap County. His
wife was beautiful, kind, and could sew the best Halloween costumes in town. I still have a picture of the Snow White
costume I borrowed one year; it was as beautifully made as my wedding
gown. He had two darling daughters, one my
age and another two years older than me.
They had horses out in front of their house. I remember being in awe of them.
There was more camaraderie between physicians than
there is today. This doctor had a great
sense of humor from stories I have been told.
He had a nurse wheel him down to my dad’s clinic (the bottom floor of
the Wheaton Way building where Peninsula Community Health Services resides now)
in a wheelchair. He was pretending he
passed out and gave his colleagues quite a scare.
I do not know why he committed suicide. It was a gunshot to the head at that same building
on Wheaton Way where they had played jokes on each other. He asked another physician to meet there to
talk minutes before completing this final act.
The physician arrived to find his friend and colleague dead. As what happened to his friend dawned on him,
he went to throw up, and then dialed 911.
It has been nearly 30 years since this heartbreaking
event unfolded, yet it occurs every single day to other physicians in the
United States. These struggling doctors
are mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, colleagues, and
friends. I have known other medical
providers that have committed suicide, even one of my medical school classmates.
At one time, ALL of these people had applied to
medical school and the day they were accepted was likely amongst the best of
their lives. What happened to those
bright eyed and bushy tailed medical students they once were when their journey
began? How did they reach the point they
felt suicide was the only way out of their disillusionment?
The business and administrative responsibilities of
running a practice are vast, let alone the overwhelming stress and fear of making
a mistake and inadvertently someone dies at our hands. We carry this burden with us on a daily
basis. If we cannot cope with the
uncertainty of medicine, it can manifest as depression, anxiety, alcoholism, or
suicide.
Finding balance is the only answer to surviving many
decades in this grueling profession; it is different for each physician. For some of us it is picking up our children
from school every day and discussing their day on the drive home. Making
sure I meet the needs of my children to the best of my ability helps keep me
grounded while I acknowledge and accept unhappy or unsatisfied patients in my
office.
Stepping back and looking at the big picture, I
always ask myself if whatever is happening will matter in five years. If the answer is no, I refuse to take it
personally and try to let it go. In five
years, it is the talks while snuggling my babies every night I will remember
best.
I have thought so often of this family over the last
three decades and wonder where his wife and daughters are today. I am certain they have started families of
their own and I hope they have found balance and peace where their father could
not.
Here is what I have learned about avoiding burnout
and trying to find true balance: life is extraordinarily precious; do the very
best where you can and do not waste a moment on anything outside of your
control. Words I live by.
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