One Door Closes, Another Opens
The night before my first day as a practicing pediatrician, I felt the weight of everything I had worked for. This was it—my dream of returning to my hometown to care for children was finally coming true. But reality, as it often does, had its own plans.
I had taken a job through a professional connection, knowing it might not be the best fit, but believing it was a solid first step. At the founder’s retirement party, a partner’s spouse approached me and asked how I landed the position. I told her my story, and she nodded knowingly before saying, “Well, you certainly are fortunate to have landed this job. This is the most prestigious practice in the city.”
Then came the gut punch: “My husband tells me you like to take care of poor people. Is that right? Well, there will be plenty of time to do that as a volunteer on your afternoon off.”
I stood there, stunned. Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life? Was I in this position because of favoritism? Would I ever fit in?
When Success Doesn’t Feel Like Success
I tried to settle in, to make it work. But my body had other ideas. The headaches started, followed by back pain. Then the right side of my face and tongue went numb. My mind raced—was this a brain tumor? Multiple sclerosis? My doctor ordered an MRI, which came back clear. Instead, he gently suggested anxiety and recommended I see a psychiatrist.
That diagnosis felt like failure. Here I was, in my first real job, and I couldn’t even handle it. But I was desperate to feel better, so I took the psychiatrist’s advice—therapy and medication. The symptoms slowly improved, but I still felt like an outsider in my own career. I even questioned whether I should leave medicine altogether.
Finding My True Path
Then, I remembered the partner’s wife’s comment about volunteering. I started spending my free afternoons at a family shelter clinic, and that’s where everything changed. The people there didn’t just care about their patients—they cared about each other. It became my refuge, my home.
Eventually, I made the decision that had been brewing all along—I left the private practice before my first year was up. It was terrifying. I had no plan, no safety net. But the connections I made at the shelter led me to an unexpected opportunity—a pediatrician retiring from the Children’s Hospital. Despite being ignored when I initially applied, I decided to take a chance and meet with her.
She saw something in me. She connected me with the right people, advocated for my strengths, and soon enough, I was offered the position she was leaving. That role—combining medical education with community pediatrics—became my professional home for the next 35 years.
What I Learned
Looking back, that experience shaped the way I see career transitions, challenges, and personal growth. Here’s what I now share with the physicians I coach:
Your first job is just that—your first job. It doesn’t have to be perfect, and it doesn’t define your entire career.
If you’re suffering, get help. Seeking support is not a sign of weakness—it’s a crucial step toward resilience.
Even the wrong job can teach you something. Knowing where you don’t belong is just as valuable as finding where you do.
Be kind to yourself,
Dr. Joe
If you’re feeling stuck, burned out, or questioning your next step, you’re not alone. Coaching can help you see the possibilities you might be missing. Let’s connect—email me at joe@joeshermanmd.com or schedule a free video consultation.