Life beyond medicine

Abstract

No one, least of all the readers of this journal, should be reminded that entering the medical profession is an incredibly absorbing occupation. The reality becomes evident from the moment one enters medical school without having yet emerged from adolescence or, if anything, from the first years of adulthood. This “maturation” process, if we can call it that, is often traumatic. Studying medicine implies giving up a large part of one's family and social life, and dedicating scarce and valuable free time to study or, in the best of cases, to catch up on lost sleep.

Things do not improve during the internship year, which is perhaps the culminating moment of the mistreatment and bullying that for years has accompanied the training of a physician. Then, only if you are fortunate, you get access to specialization, and the pressure to learn and practice is compounded by financial hardship. The other cohort mates are already leading independent lives and have (or are looking for) positions with remuneration that justifies all the years of effort. The clock is ticking, we are approaching 30 and still have no accumulated pension fund payments, but the retirement years seem so far away that other priorities are at the top of the list of concerns.

For women, who today make up the majority in medical schools, particularly for those who have in mind the option of a traditional family life, that of raising children and taking on most of the household chores, the situation is even more complicated. It is not for nothing that they have less access than their male counterparts to leadership positions, those that involve decision-making at the highest levels. Finding a supportive partner who will assume equally the difficult task of raising children is not easy in this macho culture of ours.