Editor’s Note: This account describes a courageous struggle with an affliction that can take the life of young people, especially women.
“I had a serious eating disorder which began in college when I was a Division One athlete. There was significant stress, and I had few coping skills.” At the outset, I was not made a starting player and had no experience with failing or disappointment. I earned and later lost a starting position which exacerbated my evolving problem.
My struggle continued into medical school. I attempted self-treatment and went into therapy. Being part of the military, my internship and residency were not connected and there was no assurance that one would guarantee the other. In fact, I was made a general medical officer on board a ship for two years. The stress of not knowing if I would be granted an orthopaedic residency, therefore, was prolonged.
Eventually, I did get into a military orthopaedic residency program and started as a PGY-2. The program had a female attending who invited me out for dinner. I was taken aback when she said, “You have a problem, and I know. I want to help you.” At that time, I weighted 105 pounds. A recently graduated senior resident also reached out. The two of them took me “under their wings”, protected and guided me. I apparently was at risk for dismissal from the residency for health reasons. Based on their advice, I went to the program director and told him that I was already in treatment and had a plan to move forward. I think he was supportive but just didn’t know how to help.
The plan we arrived at was that on my “academic days”, I was to see a psychiatrist and a psychologist with an eating disorder specialty. Under this regimen, I gained weight and generally improved. I consider myself lucky to have been part of a military training program as they had a commitment to protect my health and not to simply dismiss me as other civilian programs may have.
During my chief residency year, “it came to a head.” I had plateaued in my treatment and my performance. I received my first “poor” evaluation on a rotation at the end of my PGY4 year. I had a sports medicine attending who disagreed with the assessment, but he was unable to change it. I was placed on academic probation. My two therapists told me that I needed in-patient treatment. It was a “gut punch.”
Instead, I found an intensive out-patient therapy program in the same city as my residency. I took 6 months off from my training and was placed on “limited military duty.” I agreed with this plan since I knew I could not put 100% of myself into training and getting healthy. I finally realized that the eating disorder could kill me and conquering it was vital to my existence. In retrospect, the poor evaluation was a blessing.
The most beneficial part of my combined treatments was group therapy. I was placed into a group of women whom I “would never have truly identified with or sought out as friends.” Despite this, I learned that we each shared the same issues: allowing the eating disorder to define who we were and an intense sense of shame. Through this group experience, we found that we were “not alone”, shared common shame, needed a new definition of self and desperately needed some new coping methods.
After the six months of therapy, I had gained weight and felt healthier. I realized that my ability to think had improved once I was better nourished. I had to argue my way back into my residency with ACGME (Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education). Their goal was to keep me healthy. I still wanted to be an orthopaedic surgeon but knew by then that my health mattered more.
While making up the residency time I had missed, just five months after returning to my chief year, I went to another city for trauma training which our military hospital could not provide. While there, I was asked to do a consult on a patient who was a 75-pound male with an eating disorder. The case brought me into contact with the hospital psychologist who had an eating disorder specialty. The experience was monumental and helped me decide that I was ready to speak out about this life-threatening disorder.
After returning to my residency program, I was able to talk to the men I was training with about my condition; yet some of the staff and residents did not know of my situation. Ironically, at graduation, the department chairman said, “I don’t know where you were for six months but good luck in ______________ (the location of the military base where I would serve after residency). It seems that even he was kept out of the information loop or chose to look the other way.
How did all this happen, the eating disorder and its consequences? Although my parents wanted me to be successful in my endeavors at school, in playing the piano and participating in soccer, they did not pressure me. My father says I “drove myself and I would pour myself into whatever I did.” He understood that perfectionism, being driven and putting goals and outcomes ahead of my own health were part of my essence.
I have later decided that “God dealt me this card to make me better in my future work. I had been given a mission to help others.” I am now seeking to reach out to those with eating disorders on the local level. I am working through athletic trainers, my old soccer team members and even the sport psychologist on my collegiate team. Eventually, I may speak out on a larger scale but presently am busy building a practice, raising two young children along with my husband and staying healthy.
I am now thriving in all areas compared to where I was when I began my medical career. It feels really good to know I could do it, that I was more than capable and that despite what I was told by others, I could succeed as an orthopaedic surgeon despite my eating disorder. In fact, compared to overcoming my condition, orthopaedics is easy!
My advice to others is:
- There is always a light at the end of the tunnel.
- Don’t internalize what people tell you. You are not defined by your accolades or their assessment of your personal issues.
- Learn from your mistakes, study them so they won’t be repeated.
- Your mistakes don’t define you; they can make you better.
- Passion for living and for pursuing a career you love can energize you to overcome incredible obstacles.