Minefield, Field of Mine.

You would think that after being an MO, you would have more days to be free and thus type in your blog.

THINK AGAIN.

It's not the time that is the issue; rather, the fact that you are too scared to voice your opinion because somehow, with the so-called upgrade in your job title, comes even more fear of being reprimanded. You are even more accountable for what you say.

Hence the anonymity.

I have so many things to say that at times, I am almost bursting. It doesn't help that so many interesting issues are viral particularly in the healthcare sector. But, as always, I prefer to keep mum and let the more outspoken and confident people deal with what they would. Any word or action can and will be held against me at the most unexpected moments.

What a minefield, this field of mine.

*****

I have never pondered quitting so much as I do now.

During my housemanship this was not something I lingered on. I believe I do not have the option to quit, and that I should grit my teeth and bear any form of torture until I am free of this probationary period, when things would become better.

Little did I know things will never become better in this minefield. It just gets seemingly worse.

I am still getting my measly HO salary, but money's not the main issue.
My on-calls are almost always not worth the stress and hours.

You think the brunt of scolding ends at housemanship? Think again. It's not a pleasant experience being scolded, much less when you are being devalued for having less knowledge than a medical student- in front of your juniors and patients.

This is worse for MOs who are not serving within a department with its own boss- the jacks of all trades but masters of none. The KK and district and OPD MOs.

There is too much anxiety and second-guessing. It's getting worse by the day, and quitting seems to be my everyday mantra. It's weird because we are thought to be living relatively peaceful lives.

So guess who just found out that clinical life is not meant for her.
At least, not in this country.
Not in this very toxic environment.

I never thought I was stupid, particularly, but I'm rethinking that thought entirely.
I think too many of my brain cells died and created large dams of negativity held in by strong anxiety walls, surrounded by forests of fear. There is no path for the river of knowledge in my brain anymore.

Everything dead-ends.
Never have I been so unhappy.

Is this the real life?
(DON'T continue singing. Oops, you continued...)

I want to better myself by armoring myself with knowledge and experience but knowledge is a word that sounds too much like no-ledge and it is slipping off of me, repelled by me, and I am scared that I am not getting the blessing nor fruit from all this stress.

I do not know what to tell my parents. Their whole lives led up to this moment of seeing me as a doctor in the family. And now barely 3 years later I say I want to quit?

So, that's what I'm doing right now.
Grinning and bearing, until it gets more bearable, because people say it will.