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In the mid-90s, as a resident, I gave tissue plasminogen activator (tPA) one night to the first patient my institution registered in the study that got it approved by the Food and Drug Administration. Our director of stroke gave me a bottle of champagne the next day to thank me. That was where my career in acute inpatient neurology began.
Like many docs of my age, my hospital work has been dwindling with time, and was down to just 1-2 weekends a month in a small three-doc rotation. Not much, but it still made for some busy weekends.
The first wave of mass quarantining happened to fall just as our quarterly schedule was ending. In fact, I’d been working on writing it up for the next quarter when things began.
But then, in the course of a few days, one of us decided to retire early, and the other doc and I couldn’t agree on how to handle the rotation with only two people (somewhat naively, I told him the whole COVID thing would be over in 2-3 months; obviously I was WAY wrong).
So I finished up my last scheduled hospital call, figuring I’d be back in a few months.
So far that hasn’t happened. I’m now 17 months out since the last time I rounded on hospital patients.
And I don’t miss it at all.
This surprises me. I mean, we all start out, in medical school and residency, immersed in the hospital. It’s where the action is. Rounding, checking tests results, talking to patients, families, and nurses is ingrained into us. When I started in 1998 I hustled between four hospitals and enjoyed it (the work, not the driving).
Now I realize that my inpatient days are probably behind me, and I’m not bothered by it. That’s not to say I may not go back. Circumstances change, so, as before, I try to keep up on both inpatient and outpatient neurologic care and developments.
But for now, I’m happier without it. My weekends are my own. I don’t dread the Friday afternoon switchover where new consults suddenly start showing up on my cell phone. I don’t have to worry about running in at 2:00 a.m. to decide tPA or not tPA. My wife and I don’t have to take separate cars to go out to dinner, just in case I have to leave.
I’m sure I’ve lost some revenue because of it, but in the overall downturn of the pandemic it’s hard to know how much.
But I do know that I’ve gained time at home. With my wife, my kids, my dogs, and even just myself. My start and stop times on weekdays, and now plans for weekends, are now more predictable.
At some point those things are worth the money lost, and I’m happy to take them.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
In the mid-90s, as a resident, I gave tissue plasminogen activator (tPA) one night to the first patient my institution registered in the study that got it approved by the Food and Drug Administration. Our director of stroke gave me a bottle of champagne the next day to thank me. That was where my career in acute inpatient neurology began.
Like many docs of my age, my hospital work has been dwindling with time, and was down to just 1-2 weekends a month in a small three-doc rotation. Not much, but it still made for some busy weekends.
The first wave of mass quarantining happened to fall just as our quarterly schedule was ending. In fact, I’d been working on writing it up for the next quarter when things began.
But then, in the course of a few days, one of us decided to retire early, and the other doc and I couldn’t agree on how to handle the rotation with only two people (somewhat naively, I told him the whole COVID thing would be over in 2-3 months; obviously I was WAY wrong).
So I finished up my last scheduled hospital call, figuring I’d be back in a few months.
So far that hasn’t happened. I’m now 17 months out since the last time I rounded on hospital patients.
And I don’t miss it at all.
This surprises me. I mean, we all start out, in medical school and residency, immersed in the hospital. It’s where the action is. Rounding, checking tests results, talking to patients, families, and nurses is ingrained into us. When I started in 1998 I hustled between four hospitals and enjoyed it (the work, not the driving).
Now I realize that my inpatient days are probably behind me, and I’m not bothered by it. That’s not to say I may not go back. Circumstances change, so, as before, I try to keep up on both inpatient and outpatient neurologic care and developments.
But for now, I’m happier without it. My weekends are my own. I don’t dread the Friday afternoon switchover where new consults suddenly start showing up on my cell phone. I don’t have to worry about running in at 2:00 a.m. to decide tPA or not tPA. My wife and I don’t have to take separate cars to go out to dinner, just in case I have to leave.
I’m sure I’ve lost some revenue because of it, but in the overall downturn of the pandemic it’s hard to know how much.
But I do know that I’ve gained time at home. With my wife, my kids, my dogs, and even just myself. My start and stop times on weekdays, and now plans for weekends, are now more predictable.
At some point those things are worth the money lost, and I’m happy to take them.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
In the mid-90s, as a resident, I gave tissue plasminogen activator (tPA) one night to the first patient my institution registered in the study that got it approved by the Food and Drug Administration. Our director of stroke gave me a bottle of champagne the next day to thank me. That was where my career in acute inpatient neurology began.
Like many docs of my age, my hospital work has been dwindling with time, and was down to just 1-2 weekends a month in a small three-doc rotation. Not much, but it still made for some busy weekends.
The first wave of mass quarantining happened to fall just as our quarterly schedule was ending. In fact, I’d been working on writing it up for the next quarter when things began.
But then, in the course of a few days, one of us decided to retire early, and the other doc and I couldn’t agree on how to handle the rotation with only two people (somewhat naively, I told him the whole COVID thing would be over in 2-3 months; obviously I was WAY wrong).
So I finished up my last scheduled hospital call, figuring I’d be back in a few months.
So far that hasn’t happened. I’m now 17 months out since the last time I rounded on hospital patients.
And I don’t miss it at all.
This surprises me. I mean, we all start out, in medical school and residency, immersed in the hospital. It’s where the action is. Rounding, checking tests results, talking to patients, families, and nurses is ingrained into us. When I started in 1998 I hustled between four hospitals and enjoyed it (the work, not the driving).
Now I realize that my inpatient days are probably behind me, and I’m not bothered by it. That’s not to say I may not go back. Circumstances change, so, as before, I try to keep up on both inpatient and outpatient neurologic care and developments.
But for now, I’m happier without it. My weekends are my own. I don’t dread the Friday afternoon switchover where new consults suddenly start showing up on my cell phone. I don’t have to worry about running in at 2:00 a.m. to decide tPA or not tPA. My wife and I don’t have to take separate cars to go out to dinner, just in case I have to leave.
I’m sure I’ve lost some revenue because of it, but in the overall downturn of the pandemic it’s hard to know how much.
But I do know that I’ve gained time at home. With my wife, my kids, my dogs, and even just myself. My start and stop times on weekdays, and now plans for weekends, are now more predictable.
At some point those things are worth the money lost, and I’m happy to take them.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.