SPEAR ESSAY
“EVERYTHING”
Smitha Bullock, MD, MBA
W
hat have I sacrificed to be-
come a physician? Is that
what we should examine?
Perhaps rather, in order to
answer at least, I should
start at the end.
My day may start in the ordinary way with
coffee, nourishment and a commute, but a
clear and specific burden quickly awakens along with my conscious-
ness. Before it would be acknowledged however, a moment of
reflection, a prayer, can right my alignment just so. The first call to
anything more than an average day may arise from any number of
sources but it is a certain clarion call, if not from without than at
the very least from within, the inner Hippocrates. The motions of
the day may play out in any of a number of different settings, but
the themes are always the same. There are eyes that watch with great
expectancy, hearts that are tender though sometimes tough-skinned,
and bodies that are and will always be both mysteries and wonders.
In all of that, I carry a secret with me along the way, that I am as
much a participant, observer and recipient as everyone else. Yet, I
am the one called to the charge. So there I sit, peering into souls,
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stirring their spirits, and revering their bodies. And so it goes, on
and on, eyes, hearts, bodies, eyes, hearts, bodies. With each one,
no do-over: only what has been will count. Finally, the day has run
its course. Sometimes, it is not until then that I catch myself taking
a true breath. It would be a lie to think it was just because of the
mechanics or economics of it all. Indeed, more rightly, it is what it
has always been, the undeniable sacrifice.
There are many things as a physician that are difficult to relay to
others, the unique parts that are both a privilege and a burden. The
privilege is that anyone would allow a stranger to speak, touch or
do to them what I must as I must. It is the awe by which we may be
scarred indelibly if looked upon too long. The burden is the scars
of things that cannot be unseen, unfelt or untouched in our hearts.
Mistakes made, lives lost, hearts broken, tears spilled, grief wailed,
breaths faded, and beats run out are evidences of it. But what can
be said of these when compared to that of a single moment of any
miracle, big or small, witnessed regularly around us?
To answer the question at hand, it is simply, everything. We may
be called to sacrifice from all parts of lives at various points during
our lifetimes for this field that we love. Of our inner lives, we lay
down our egos, our pride, our fears and our ignorance. Of the outer