“You should call me. I’ve been doing a very long time,” he said.
He is one of the giants of our field. I have known him for 2 decades. Ever since I was a trainee, he has inspired me to be the best version of myself. I admired him on all levels: his intellect, his skill, his personality. I was elated when he reached out. Over the past few weeks, I had been active on social platforms on behalf of my new startup. We were raising funds and gaining momentum. This is supposed to be my second career. I am excited about it.
I was surprised, however, to learn that he was active in the startup community. He is world famous, but somehow, no one knew about his two companies, and a few exits he had successfully managed. Intrigued, I asked him why his entrepreneurship is shrouded in secrecy. “They won’t be happy for you,”, he answered.
He was right. Ever since I came out with my burnout, I have had nothing but misery at work. The hospital service that I lead revolted against me, my mentors lost interest in me, and I was being gaslighted and ambushed at every opportunity. Naturally, I blamed myself. After all, what were the odds that these seemingly rational and scientific minded people were all losing their minds?
I won’t deny, it has made me suffer greatly. I’ve been living in darkness and doubt ever since. Have I made the wrong decision? Will my legacy be tarnished by cowardice? Will I ever succeed at this new chapter away from medicine?
Yesterday I walked into my house feeling sorry for myself, after another dark day at the hospital, spent fighting political battles that I did not need. My toddler ran to greet me with a big hug. For the first time ever, this innocent loving hug brought me no joy. Such was the depth of the darkness in my soul. Immediately, I understood two valuable truths.
One- the people trying to ruin my life are ones who have not been hugged in quite a long time. The only way they can find joy is by casting their dark shadow over others.
Two- a job which makes you immune to a child’s hug is not one worth keeping.
I sat, with my child in my lap, and a tear in my eye. I remembered a story that my dad told me decades ago, about a Lion who grew old and became a mockery to the dogs. I never understood the moral until now. I am old and wounded, but I am still the Lion. They, are still the dogs.
B. Nerdicus
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