By Lydia Crist, DC
A few months ago, I quit my job. It's not technically the first time I've quit a job if you take into account those college summers I slogged away in retail, but this was my first “big girl” job. I worked as an associate for nearly 7 years at a large, multi-disciplinary clinic. We had chiropractors, massage therapists, physical therapists, and medical staff. For many, this sounds like a dream job. And maybe, in the beginning, it was for me. But maybe, it was just a job offer the week after I graduated, and those are incredibly hard to turn down.
Seven years in, I found myself stressed out, over-worked, and feeling like I was a number, a hit on the payroll, instead of a valuable contributor to the organization. I no longer felt that I was in an environment that encouraged professional growth. I had become a technician of adjusting due to the demands of “statistics”. I needed to see more, more, MORE people in order to improve “production numbers”. I was lucky to get half an hour uninterrupted with a new patient. I was lucky to get five minutes with a patient on any subsequent visits. Work days that lasted 11-12 hours had become the norm, and it was not uncommon for me to eat all of my meals at the office. I slept and I worked, and half the time, it felt like I didn't even sleep. I hit the point where I would rather be homeless than continue working at that job just to pay the bills. So I quit. I quit with only loose plans about my future.
I wish that I was the only one with an experience like this. I wish that none of my peers have dealt with this. But unfortunately, it seems that I am in the majority. It seems that, as a profession as a whole, we struggle to provide associates with opportunities that include both professional growth and personal freedoms. We fail at inspiring the next generation.
If your experience as an associate is nothing like mine, I must say that I am quite jealous. I'm truly very happy for you. But for those who feel trapped like I did, I want to offer you some lessons that I have learned since quitting my job in the hopes that it may inspire you to seek the freedom that I now have.
Quitting your job is a little scary. If your situation is anything like mine, your boss won't see it coming. He might say nothing for several long moments. It's okay to just let him be silent. But when it's over, you will be so relieved. Quitting will go down in my personal history as one of the most freeing experiences of my entire life. I gave a generous amount of notice, which allowed me to say goodbye to all of my patients, but I nearly skipped out of that office on my last day.
The whole thing about how you have to have a big office and a large staff and see hundreds of patient visits per week in order to make a decent living... it's bullshit. Find a space with low overhead and provide excellent care. People will pay good money for that. You can see fewer patients and make more money. It's like magic.
Value matters. It matters to your patients and it matters to you. Being a doctor, instead of a technician, means taking the appropriate amount of time with your patients and providing true value for them. When you provide something of value, your patients become loyal to you. Loyal patients refer more patients. High value care is essentially free marketing. And the best part is that you will feel better about yourself. No more feeling like a technician. You can feel like you have something useful and worthwhile to contribute.
No amount of money is worth giving up your life. Your personal time is more important than anything else. There will always be time to work. There may not always be time for the people in your life. Never, ever let work interfere with important relationships. You can't go back and have that dinner with your parents. You can't go back and go on that date with your partner. You can't go back and watch your kid's soccer game. You can't get that stuff back, so don't give it up in the first place. And never work for someone who expects you to give that up.
If I ever have the opportunity to have an associate, I know exactly what I do and don't want to do. When I spoke to my mom about quitting my job, she said, “The one great thing that will come from this is that you know exactly who you don't want to be.” I want to be a mentor, to encourage them to find the things in practice that bring them joy and to help them grow their skill set. I want to show them, by my own example, that they should never skip out on the things that matter outside of the office. And eventually, I want them to have the confidence to move on from me, but to not leave with the distaste that I left my associate position with. I don't want them to remember me as the doctor they never want to be like. I want them to go on and do great things.