Taking our own advice

For a profession that strives to improve the health of others, this job also makes it very hard to maintain our own health.

Like many Americans, I’m overweight. Working 70-80 hours a week doesn’t leave much time for exercise. I try to do what I can, such as using stairs instead of the elevator, but in a two-story office building that doesn’t get you very far. And when I get home there are still tests to read, dictations to do, finances to catch up on ... which leaves little time for anything else other than eating and sleeping.

Eating better? Easier said than done. When I was single, back in residency, that was easy. I only had one person to shop for and feed, but in a family you need to find something that will keep everyone happy, and with three teenagers that ain’t easy. Everyone wants this, that, or the other, and none of it seems to be particularly good for you.

In the modern era convenience generally beats pretty much everything else. Our lives are hurried. At some point it’s just easier to pick something up or order out than to go to the effort of preparing your own meals. Of course, it’s possible to get something healthy for takeout, but the unhealthy menu items sound so much better, and by that time of day I’m tired, hungry, and stressed, and the will power I had in the morning is pretty much gone.

It’s kind of a medical paradox. Those of us taking care of others often don’t do the same for ourselves. Part of this, as noted in a recent Medscape article, is that we live on schedules that are unrelated to the typical 9-to-5 jobs that most other professionals have, not to mention a very different set of stressors.

At least I haven’t started smoking.

As the article points out, I’m not alone. In fact, it’s reassuring to know other physicians are dealing with the same situation. We often assume we’re alone in our struggles, when the actual truth is the opposite.

All of our medical training doesn’t mean we’re not human. It would be nice if the job made us better able to practice what we preach, but human nature is older than medicine, and we’re susceptible to the same faults and temptations as those of our patients.

And always will be.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

For a profession that strives to improve the health of others, this job also makes it very hard to maintain our own health.

Like many Americans, I’m overweight. Working 70-80 hours a week doesn’t leave much time for exercise. I try to do what I can, such as using stairs instead of the elevator, but in a two-story office building that doesn’t get you very far. And when I get home there are still tests to read, dictations to do, finances to catch up on ... which leaves little time for anything else other than eating and sleeping.

Eating better? Easier said than done. When I was single, back in residency, that was easy. I only had one person to shop for and feed, but in a family you need to find something that will keep everyone happy, and with three teenagers that ain’t easy. Everyone wants this, that, or the other, and none of it seems to be particularly good for you.

In the modern era convenience generally beats pretty much everything else. Our lives are hurried. At some point it’s just easier to pick something up or order out than to go to the effort of preparing your own meals. Of course, it’s possible to get something healthy for takeout, but the unhealthy menu items sound so much better, and by that time of day I’m tired, hungry, and stressed, and the will power I had in the morning is pretty much gone.

It’s kind of a medical paradox. Those of us taking care of others often don’t do the same for ourselves. Part of this, as noted in a recent Medscape article, is that we live on schedules that are unrelated to the typical 9-to-5 jobs that most other professionals have, not to mention a very different set of stressors.

At least I haven’t started smoking.

As the article points out, I’m not alone. In fact, it’s reassuring to know other physicians are dealing with the same situation. We often assume we’re alone in our struggles, when the actual truth is the opposite.

All of our medical training doesn’t mean we’re not human. It would be nice if the job made us better able to practice what we preach, but human nature is older than medicine, and we’re susceptible to the same faults and temptations as those of our patients.

And always will be.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

For a profession that strives to improve the health of others, this job also makes it very hard to maintain our own health.

Like many Americans, I’m overweight. Working 70-80 hours a week doesn’t leave much time for exercise. I try to do what I can, such as using stairs instead of the elevator, but in a two-story office building that doesn’t get you very far. And when I get home there are still tests to read, dictations to do, finances to catch up on ... which leaves little time for anything else other than eating and sleeping.

Eating better? Easier said than done. When I was single, back in residency, that was easy. I only had one person to shop for and feed, but in a family you need to find something that will keep everyone happy, and with three teenagers that ain’t easy. Everyone wants this, that, or the other, and none of it seems to be particularly good for you.

In the modern era convenience generally beats pretty much everything else. Our lives are hurried. At some point it’s just easier to pick something up or order out than to go to the effort of preparing your own meals. Of course, it’s possible to get something healthy for takeout, but the unhealthy menu items sound so much better, and by that time of day I’m tired, hungry, and stressed, and the will power I had in the morning is pretty much gone.

It’s kind of a medical paradox. Those of us taking care of others often don’t do the same for ourselves. Part of this, as noted in a recent Medscape article, is that we live on schedules that are unrelated to the typical 9-to-5 jobs that most other professionals have, not to mention a very different set of stressors.

At least I haven’t started smoking.

As the article points out, I’m not alone. In fact, it’s reassuring to know other physicians are dealing with the same situation. We often assume we’re alone in our struggles, when the actual truth is the opposite.

All of our medical training doesn’t mean we’re not human. It would be nice if the job made us better able to practice what we preach, but human nature is older than medicine, and we’re susceptible to the same faults and temptations as those of our patients.

And always will be.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.