Welcome to this week's edition of Dear Dr. Horton. Send the anonymous questions that keep you up at night to a real former Dean of Medical Student Affairs, Dr. Jillian Horton, and get the perspective you need with no fear of judgment. Submit your questions anonymously through this form, and if your question is appropriate for the column, expect an answer within a few weeks!
Dear Dr. Horton,
I am a recently retired physician, and your blog seems like a great idea to me. Support and acceptance are needed at all stages of our careers.
Burnout is a reality in our profession, as is ageism. Because of ageism, it is often difficult to balance limitations with outside expectations and many physicians simply choose to retire. My hope is that will change — our profession will see, acknowledge, and embrace the value of our aging colleagues — but that is simply not true now. How can the profession both assist the transition and get maximum value from its most experienced colleagues?
Class of 2016
One Kashmiri morning in the early spring of 1915, my grandfather Aadam Aziz hit his nose against a frost-hardened tussock of earth while attempting to pray. Three drops of blood plopped out of his left nostril, hardened instantly in the brittle air and lay before his eyes on the prayer-mat, transformed into rubies. Lurching back until he knelt with his head once more upright, he found that the tears which had sprung to his eyes had solidified, too; and at that moment, as he brushed diamonds contemptuously from his lashes, he resolved never again to kiss earth for any god or man. This decision, however, made a hole in him, a vacancy in a vital inner chamber, leaving him vulnerable to women and history. Unaware of this at first, despite his recently completed medical training, he stood up, rolled the prayer-mat into a thick cheroot, and holding it under his right arm surveyed the valley through clear, diamond-free eyes. (Salman Rushdie, Midnight’s Children)
I wish I could write like Salman Rushdie. ...continue reading