December is the prime time for this question, or versions thereof. With everyone getting together for Christmas and New Year, I knew I would be catching up with friends and relatives and meeting new people, so small talk would be abundant for a good two or three weeks. I have to admit, I was dreading it. I was afraid of their judgement and remarks. I suppose I was also afraid of how I would react to their reactions. I could hardly justify my situation to myself, so how could I justify it to others?
I have always taken it for granted that I could give people a satisfactory progress report. “I’m in year 13” turned into “I’m in year X at medical school,” which turned into “I’m working at such-and-such hospital.” The only variation to contend with was the inevitable follow up question: “Have you chosen your speciality yet?”
Traditionally, the responses I have given to these queries have depended largely on how I feel about the person asking them. With kindred spirits – the people I feel will really listen and might understand my point of view – I am honest, but mostly I’ve just been busy hiding my true feelings about it all these years, even from the people closest to me.
As Christmas loomed, everything seemed so complicated. What was I supposed to say when people asked me what I was doing now?
“I had a quarter-life crisis and quit my job with no plan B, so I’m now officially unemployed and relying on my savings and my fiancé to get by. I have no current certainty or prospects, and not much of an idea about what to do, except a vague plan to write a novel that I’m unjustifiably optimistic about.”
It sounded terrible. I almost wanted to avoid the festive parties altogether to save myself from this humiliating admission. I also felt bad for my parents – when people asked them how I was getting on, they would be having exactly the same problem.
Then, two things happened to me.
The first was deciding to locum after my little visit to the job centre. That gave me something solidly medical to say, and was a relief. “I’m locuming at the moment” is a brilliant answer for those you don’t really want to talk to, and who are just asking you for the sake of saying something. It’s satisfying for both parties and the perfect precursor for a swift exit line.
The other was this: at the start of December, in between dancing for joy and plunging into the depths of despair, I started job hunting on the Guardian website. I found an ad I was interested in for a managerial role in a charity, but being inexperienced with this sort of thing, I was doubtful. I worried that I didn’t meet the criteria in many of the job specifications, because a lot of them stated the necessity for formal qualifications or specific experience. But, as my fiancé told me, job specs are not hard and fast rules. They represent the ‘ideal’, and most companies would rather hire the closest match than wait for the perfect candidate. My career coach has also been helping me to realise the value of the skills and experiences I already have.
So I shot off my CV, not really believing anything would come of it. Then two weeks later, I got a call. The charity had said my application was certainly unusual, but they had loved it. They offered me a telephone interview, and after that, they offered me a formal interview. I’m going in for it next week. Whether or not I get the job in the end, it’s been such a boost for me just getting to interview.
It’s also nice to sing my own praises. It’s not something I got to do much in medicine – it was more about people assessing me. ARCPs are tick-boxing exercises and applying for clinical jobs requires more form-filling and exam-taking than knowledge of your true strengths, skills and weaknesses. It’s just the nature of the medical profession that everybody is presumed to have all the necessary skills for their level. As a result, the thought of doing a non-medical interview is scary. No longer can I rest on my laurels; I actually have to prove myself. It’s made me sit down and think about what I’m really good at, what suits me and what I really want – perhaps for the first time in my entire life.
As the Yuletide approached, I started to see my situation is a different light. Yes, there are things in my current situation that I don’t like, but there is also plenty of potential. This is a really exciting time for me, and I really need to give myself a break. It sounds cliché to ‘have faith in yourself’ and to ‘stay positive’ but these little things can be incredibly difficult to do. I still struggle sometimes, but I’m working my way towards another cliché where I see my glass as half full.
So now, when people ask ‘what are you doing now?’ I have an answer I’m proud of:
“Well, I’m planning to locum while transitioning into a new career. I’ve got an interview with a charity soon for a management role. In the meantime, I’m volunteering for Medic Footprints to help other doctors in their careers – a role that I got because the directors were impressed by an article about their conference on my personal blog. I’m also researching the British colonization of Asia to give historical accuracy to the novel I am currently writing.”
There. Sounds much better doesn’t it? And the best things are: it’s all true, and I can say it to everyone.
Image from Malla.
Malla is a small business coach and expert at answering this question!
7 thoughts on “So… what do you do?”
Brilliant, as usual. You really should stop making me cry all the time! 😉 😛
Hahaha it’s my new life purpose to dissolve you in tears 😛 😉
Your embracing the opportunity an uncertain future brings, rather than accepting the predictable yet safe path you were on, because ultimately you weren’t happy enough. Being truly vulnerable is confidence, because you are willing to put your all in to something no matter what, including who you may upset or disappoint. You are doing what is right for you, and you have appreciating the “little wins” such as your interview. Just keep doing what really makes you happy, rather than what makes anyone else happy.
I’m really happy for you 🙂
Brilliant post! This is so inspirational. All the best with your interview and writing that novel!
I just stumbled across your blog because I thought you had an interesting name and was thinking is that your really name. I have spent the last 45-60 minutes reading your blog and I salute you for your courage in leaving behind your career in medicine for the unknown. It takes a lot of courage and determination to do that. I really have an art of writing and I am slightly gutted that I have read all your blog posts. I was hooked on each post. I look forward to reading some of your further work and wish you all the best in your future endeavours. The world is your oyster! P.S I have just recently started learning the Arabic language. It is actually quite fun learning an alphabet that is not in English. You may enjoy it too!
*you really have an art
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