I’ve always been fascinated by the story of the phoenix; a bird who sets itself on fire only to be reborn again.
In writing this piece, I’ve thought a lot about the phoenix and what it represents—rebirth, transformation—a new beginning.
Over the last year, I’ve been going through my own transformation—one that has been simultaneously painful, thrilling, nerve-racking, and ultimately, incredibly freeing.
The Decision
I was one of those kids who always knew that she wanted to be a doctor, and I had all the right intentions. I didn’t want to do it for the money or for the status it would give me in society. I wanted to do it because I loved science, and I loved being of service.
I worked my butt off for years just moving along on a straight path thinking that this was what I wanted, but at some point, something started to not feel quite right.
It turns out that eight-year-olds should not be making career decisions.
Yes, I love science, and I love being of service. But I’ve also always had a deep love for language and storytelling specifically, for poetry. I see stories everywhere. I have found myself scribbling down thoughts for a poem in the back of test prep books, in the margins of my notes during hospital rounds, and even as I scarf down lunch during a 15-minute break in a busy day. A number of these “scribbles” have become published poems: kardia, here, laughter po prn.
I initially tried to “marry” the two parts of me by deciding that I would be a physician-writer. This way, I wouldn’t put all of my years of school to “waste” and would still get to write. But that also never felt quite right. I enjoyed working with patients, and I found their diseases interesting, but I found that I wasn’t the biggest fan of what I like to refer to as “the everyday drudgery and toxicity of medicine.” The never-ending documentation, the constant battle to get medications and services covered for patients, and the long hours that make the idea of work/life balance seem like a fairytale.
My unhappiness was at an all-time high last July, and two weeks into my final year of med school, I decided that I no longer wanted to do a residency and would not be a practicing physician.
I joked to people for months afterwards that it was like getting a divorce. Medicine had been my “spouse” for a long time. I had never “dated” anyone else. I didn’t know anything else. The “divorce” gave me the freedom to see what else was out there. And it turns out that there was so much more than I could have ever realized.
Starting Again
If we go back to the phoenix metaphor, I like to think that I set fire to the old phoenix last July, and a new phoenix was born. Wide-eyed, wobbly-legged, and uncertain of herself, but so full of wonder.
What was next? In a recent essay, I talk about coming to the realization that I’m a storyteller. I always have been, and I always will be.
But what does that mean exactly? What kinds of careers should I be looking at? And should I try to find a career that would allow me to use my medical/scientific knowledge or should I completely break away from that?
To find out, the baby bird went exploring. (Can you tell that I like this metaphor?)
I thought about careers in consulting and finance. I thought about careers in pharma. I thought about working at a publication as a writer or editor. I thought about teaching. I thought about nonprofit work. I talked to people with all kinds of professional backgrounds to try to figure out where I belonged.
And then, I got connected to Dr. Cherilyn Cecchini who is an Account Supervisor at LifeSci Comms (LSC) and a board-certified pediatrician who chose to leave clinical medicine. After Cher and I had our first conversation in January 2020, I remember calling my mom and feeling incredibly excited that I had found something that could turn out to be “the one.” I loved that the work that LSC does is truly a blend of the sciences and the arts. I would be able to use my medical training in a new way and be a storyteller.
We stayed in touch during the pandemic, and I had my first interview with LSC in early June, which was with the Founder and CEO, Dr. Matt Middleman. He had also left clinical medicine, and it was so powerful for me to meet two people who had gone through similar journeys and had found success and fulfillment doing something else.
When SVP Stephanie Scott called me to give me the offer to join LSC as an Account Executive in late June, I had to hold back my tears. It was such an important moment for me. I had spent the last year having to constantly defend my decision to my parents while also job hunting and trying to finish my last year of med school. I had to watch all my classmates get into residency while the jobs that I was interested in had instituted a hiring freeze because of the pandemic. It was a tough year to say the least.
I don’t want to sound cliché, but that call from Stephanie truly changed my life. This is not just a job to me. This is an opportunity to start again and what an incredible blessing that is.
What do MDs bring to the table?
I’d like to spend some time discussing the unique perspective and skillset that physicians bring to a company like LifeSci Comms.
- We understand the needs of both physicians and patients.
At LSC, we work with companies to help them connect with their audiences, and two major parts of that audience are physicians and patients. As MDs, we know how other MDs think. We know the kinds of questions and concerns they’re going to have when considering whether they want to use a new diagnostic test or prescribe a new drug.
We also understand the perspectives of patients. We’ve held a patient’s hand as we’ve given them a difficult diagnosis. We’ve sat at the bedside drawing out mechanisms so that our patients can better understand what’s happening. Connecting with patients is something that is critical to the clients that we work with, and physicians have an intuitive understanding of how to do that. We also understand the value of a powerful patient story in any media outreach that we do on behalf of our clients.
Physicians also just have an inherent understanding of what makes people tick in general and how to connect with them whether they’re a patient, a fellow physician, a reporter, or the CEO of a biotech company. Something that I’ve heard over and over again is that the communications world is all about building and maintaining relationships and so is medicine.
- We are master observers.
A big part of medical training is learning how to sharpen our senses. Physicians are trained to see the nuances of rashes, to hear the subtleties of a heart murmur, and to feel the difference between what is likely a benign cyst vs a malignant tumor. We’re also experts at noticing small changes in a patient’s emotional or mental state as well as quickly picking up on the complexities of patient-family dynamics.
Our observational skills are critical to our work at LSC. It means that we have a sharp eye as we write and edit client materials. In addition, just like with patients and their families, we’re able to quickly understand the team dynamics of our clients so that we can work with them in the most effective way possible.
- We’re adaptable.
Another significant part of a physician’s training is the ability to be flexible and change course as needed whether it’s in the operating room or in an outpatient clinic. That’s an important quality that is critical to the work that LSC does. Communication strategies can shift depending on general news flow, a big client announcement, a client’s desire for a new look or feel, etc. It’s important to be agile in shifting and keep a straight head even when things get busy and challenging.
- We know how to operate within a hierarchy, and work in teams.
For better or worse, hierarchy is a big part of medical training. The hierarchy can be toxic in that those at the bottom (medical students, junior residents) can often feel dis empowered. But when the hierarchy is used in the right way, there is a clear structure that allows for the easy formation of mentor-mentee relationships. Also, medicine, particularly hospital medicine, is all based on teamwork. When done right, each person on the team has a role to play where they feel that they’re contributing something significant.
When a physician comes to work at LSC, they’ll see that there is a clear hierarchy as well, but it’s a hierarchy that is really meant to allow for strong mentor-mentee relationships and teamwork. The goal is really to learn from one another and never to give anybody busywork. Everything that we do whether it’s navigating challenging client calls, writing press releases, or putting together a media list is important. Everyone’s work is valued.
In Flight
Part of what is so comforting about a career in medicine is that you always know what’s coming next. There is a clear path to success, and all you have to do is keep your head down and follow it. Leaving that path means that my life has a lot less certainty, but it also has a lot more excitement.
Medicine is a wonderful career, but it just wasn’t the right one for me, and there’s a whole world outside of it that I just didn’t know about. I feel incredibly fortunate to have found LifeSci Comms where I feel like I’m being constantly challenged, where I’m continuously growing, and where every day is truly different.
That old phoenix would be proud of this new one. She’s still learning how to fly with these new wings, and she doesn’t know exactly where the future will take her, but she is very much enjoying the journey.
Graphic created by: Autumn Von Plinsky
