‘Why am I still a GP? After 22 years I’m finally good at it’
Highly commended in the ‘Why I’m still in the job’ category, Dr Mark Jones reflects on why, after two rounds of burnout, he stays working as a GP
I’m old now. You’ve read the title of the competition category, so now you’re expecting me to lay out how my expectations were shattered. You’ve read it before. In fact, it’s been written so many times that ChatGPT just spat out a great big YAWN when I asked it for ideas. I won’t waste your time. You either had the same expectations and already know, or you’re young and have better things to do than listen to Gandalf, the tedious old wizard.
I could tell you about burnout, but that’s equally pointless. These days, you’ve either experienced it yourself or witnessed it. I’ve burned out twice, if that helps you. I’m currently alight again for the third time. Maybe you’re burnout-curious. Interested enough to have read this far – so you’re probably on your way. Let’s call it stage one. If you skim the headlines of Pulse articles and then immediately jump to below the line to search for a comment that recognises your pain, it’s stage two. If you’re logging on to the hilariously, tragically misnamed ‘Resilient GP’ on Facebook, I’m so sorry – it’s very advanced. Leave now. Start flapping your arms and fly to Canada.
Moving on from the shattered dreams, ChatGPT over-confidently (as usual) suggests I list the things that have kept me going. A picture from a grateful child. A smile from a silver-haired old widow. Our soon-to-be sinister robot overlord offers: ‘I’ve walked alongside people through the long arcs of their lives.’ Oh dear. I’ve just been sick on my keyboard. Oh look, you’ve been sick too. I’m so sorry – let me get you a tissue.
No. I don’t know about you, but I need the cash. My family has this irritating habit of wanting food and shelter. If I can get through the day without someone calling me a wanker, it’s a win.
The last section of this is supposed to be the payoff, the redemption. When I ask why am I still in the job, the AI-slop factory offers:
- The relationships I have built. Hmm. I’d have got this if I’d done literally anything else, without the ritualised, relentless kicking from punters, press, and Government.
- The privilege of public service. Oh no, I seem to have been sick again. Here, have a picture of Aneurin Bevan to wipe it up with.
So what’s the explanation? What am I still doing in this mind-meltingly frustrating job? One: after 22 years, finally I’m good at it. And that is a high. I enjoy it most of the time now. I’m usually right. I start explanations with, ‘in my experience‘ and see the reassuring effect. No longer do I find myself talking bollocks in consultations to make up for the fact that I just don’t know.
And two, I get to experience extraordinarily funny and sweet situations. My beer-drinking buddies are non-medics, but accomplished folk. Their jobs sound important, but they all do the same thing: write emails and do Teams meetings all day.
Me? Today I got to meet someone who has changed their name to Vanilla Ice, talk gently to a man who looks like he’s from Gladiators but is clutching a teddy bear, and counsel a young couple who have misunderstood how to get pregnant because they’ve taken internet porn literally as a how-to manual. You don’t get that at Currys.
So, at the age of 51, I am looking forward to the next 10 years. That is something I have never been able to say before. It has taken a lot of sleepless nights, panic, and despair, but at the end of the day, I’m glad I stuck around.
Dr Mark Jones is a GP partner in Suffolk
Have you got a view you want to share with Pulse?
We’re always open to first-hand pieces and opinions from GPs.
Email your piece for consideration to be published on our site.
