I am out of here...
Well, I did it. I told everyone I'd wait until the election to make a decision about my future career plans, but in the end it didn't matter. Every day as I drive in to the hospital that sense of dread starts to fill up my stomach and grows stronger until I pull in to my parking space and trudge up the stairs confident I am about to spend another 12 hours doing mostly unpaid work as the agent of a system that utterly fails everyone involved. I expect headaches in my job. I mean, it's the doctor who is supposed to be the lone hero in the middle of the bureaucratic insurance mess, who is desperately trying to make the system work for the patients, and even once in a while trying to save a life. And it's important work. There are times when families genuinely appreciate the work I do, moments when I feel actual satisfaction. But those moments are becoming less frequent and the personal cost to me is becoming too difficult to bear. When I approach the end of each year and t...