Expectations for a New Physician

As I walk into orientation, I am handed a bag full of items.  As I pull things out one by one I find:

A long white coat with my name embroidered on the right side and the hospital logo on the left.  As I try it on I realize that people expect different things now that my coat has grown longer by a foot.  I am expected to know the answers.  I am expected to know enough to help my patients get better or keep them well.  I am expected to advise parents despite the fact that I have no children of my own.  I am expected to stop looking over my shoulder when someone calls out "Doctor."  I am expected to uphold the values of the profession.  I am to be a physician.

A pager with a number already publicized for all hospital staff to access at will.  I am to be reachable at all times now.  I am expected to return any page within five minutes and will never know until I pick up the phone if my patient needs a simple dose of Tylenol or is struggling to breathe.  I am expected to know what to do when that pager beeps and a patient or a nurse needs something from me.  I am to be accessible.

Business cards already printed with my name, M.D.  Below that is listed my office hours and appointment line phone number.  I am expected to convince patients and their parents that they want to request that I be their physician every time they come for a visit.  That they want me, a first year resident, to be their pediatrician.  That I will take care of them.  That I know what I'm doing enough to be a helpful resource for them.  I am to be likeable.

A pass-code security device that allows me to access patient charts from anywhere with an internet connection.  I am expected to be trustworthy and respect patient privacy.  I am expected to understand the laws regarding patient privacy and security of information.  I am expected to be willing to be audited at any time and have my every mouse click scrutinized and analyzed for intent.  I am expected to have integrity.  I am to be trusted.

Hospital-issued, baby blue scrubs immaculately pressed for the first and last time.  I am expected to look professional even when called into a patient's room at 4:00am.  I am expected to willingly spend as many nights at the hospital as teamwork demands.  I am expected to respond with a smile even if my pager beeps every 5 seconds from 1:00am on with requests that need not be handled in the middle of the night.  I am expected to tend to my patients needs even if I have not slept because they need me more than I need sleep.  I am to be selfless.

An ID badge featuring my smiling, well-rested face that will likely look less like how I do as the year goes on.  The hospital logo, "my name, M.D.", and "pediatrics" printed in bold across the front.  I belong to an organization nationally recognized for excellence.  I belong to a profession recognized for selflessness, sacrifice and empathy when done well.  I belong to a field of medicine known for being the "nicest physicians".  I am to belong and be worthy of belonging.

As I look down at my new belongings spread across the table, I cannot help but be filled with immense pride, awe and excitement.  I am proud to be where I am.  I am in awe of where I am blessed to be.  And I am beyond excited to begin this chapter of my journey.  I pledge to fight burnout, negativity, callousness and bitterness.  I am going to strive to be an accessible, likeable, trustworthy, selfless and worthy pediatrician.  And I'm going to try to never lose this sense of awe at a dream becoming reality.