Job, Passion, or Obsession?

I used to tell my friend, "I am nothing if not passionate."

How did I led myself to this? Where's the passion? Where's the obsession? 

Why am I not approaching medicine, my work and supposingly career passion, as I do with visual art? Why do I not have the same obsessive approach over every minor details the way I do when I work on a piece of photograph, for example? 

I remember when I was young, I loved graphic design and desktop publishing, and I would obsess over every piece of design layout until I was completely satisfied. At that time, every shade of grey would be scrutinized, every curve measured, and every piece aligned until it gave the most striking visual impact. I would design a page, digest it, wait for inspiration, and redesign it some more. I could skip meals, I would stay in, I would forget my outside world until I have a design I was proud of. Every little bit of imperfection would have driven me crazy. 

Today, when it comes to photography, I find myself displaying the same careful mannerism. Even when it comes to writing, I feel, I have the same obsessive approach of wanting my sentences to strike just the right tone, the right nerve, the right feel. It's the same when I cook, as I obsess over each dish's flagrance, taste, texture, and visual appeal. And then, when I have it all perfect, I would sit back and admire my work. Proud and satisfied, I tell myself that it was a job well done. 

I don't know how, but when it comes to my work, I feel I lack the same level of obsession that makes me such a perfectionist in other areas of life. I try to do a good job, because I feel that I have to be a responsible physician, because I am entrusted to do it well, and because I am generally good a performing when I know I am being assessed.

Like today, for example, when I got off work early. I went to a local drug store and spent an hour on the shelves studying every kind of over-the-counter pediatric pain and cold remedies they sell, just so that I know what I'm talking about to my patients. But I did that because I felt I should, not because I had the dying urge to do so. 

The inner flame, the drive that makes me want to go that extra mile beyond merely being a responsible learner, seems to be missing. When I am done my work, I am more than happy to move on to my hobbies. My interests and my work thus lay separate in my mind. No matter how I tried to merge them before, my work is not my passion. Not entirely, not yet, at least. 

It's not that I don't enjoy being a doctor. In fact, what I have discovered this year is how much I really do enjoy the role of being a doctor. But I guess that's what drove me into this field. It's able being the kind of person I want to be, to be able to when help is needed, to have an approach to things I see around me. I guess I am obsessed at being that certain someone, but my obsession isn't quite coming through in my day-to-day operations. 

These days, I would often find myself surprised, but equally impressed, when I hear about others being so devoted to the work that they do. Such as when they cannot sleep, the would lie in bed thinking about their work the next day. Not out of annoyance of their work, but because they are excited about what lies ahead. Maybe they're doing a presentation, maybe they have an important client meeting, or maybe they feel that they're onto something big and really want to see it through. It is hypocritical, here I am, often feeling sorry for myself when I get stuck being busy on call and have to stay late, when there are others my age putting themselves on the line and work late in their offices without being asked to. Somehow, through our so-called difficult training process, we have (we, for I do not think I am alone on this) became so entitled that we feel we are always being over-worked, always being unfair to, and would jump at every opportunity to slip away from work. I guess it is part a survival technique that we felt we had to develop through clerkship and residency. But I am starting to feel that this survival technique is swaying me away from the true essence of being a doctor, and ultimately, from loving my job. 

You cannot love being there, when your survival instincts fire up every time you show up for work. 

Throughout medical school and residency, many older, wiser doctors have kindly reminded me and my colleagues, that "this is just a job". For years I did not want to believe them, but today I am starting to. But I'm sad to. I do not want to believe them. I still want to believe there is something greater out there than simply living everyday by just "doing your job".